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Where the city spills into the sea  
Where amber lights reach o'er the invisible waters
God is saving blue ocean and sunshine for tomorrow
A miracle for the sinner , to touch the heartbroken ,
for wayfarers in the throes of falling , for his forgotten
In turbulent upheaval striking the sea wall
For the receivers , the wallowing and the swallowed* ...
Copyright February 22 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Feb 2017 Renée Brookes
D
Impostors
 Feb 2017 Renée Brookes
D
cross my heart and hope to die
without a trace and no goodbye
I'll leave you gaping with a hole in your chest
I stole the one thing you gave freely and yet
woefully in denial you scrape up whats left
which wont be much as I took all you had
you search and search but
you're always two steps back
you stop and remember how I use to laugh
how I use to kiss you and stare into your eyes
if only, you say, you had known they were lies
cross your heart and hope to die
you vow to find me or perish trying
The Con Artist of the Heart's Pov
(Inspired by the new TV Show Impostors)
Everyday around quarter past three,
You burst into the bathroom searching for me,
I get hidden from your mother while you are away,
Hidden, unused for most of the day,
I feel your anger as your hand grips me tight,
I'm the one & only thing that helps you sleep at night,
I live to put scars upon your wrist,
I leave my mark I'm proud of this,
I watch as the beautiful red blood pattern drips,
And runs off the ends of your fingertips,
What possesses humans to act like this,
To scream, cry & cut their wrists,
But for now my job is clear,
The reason that I was brought here,
To relieve the pain,
To sit by the window and watch the rain,
Up until around quarter past three,
When you burst into the bathroom searching for me...
If you get it, i'm sorry. You can talk to me. Stay strong friend.
 Feb 2017 Renée Brookes
Styles
intricate mind
singular duality
immersed in the
immense in the deep depths
of our virtual reality
spiral falls into our vitality
with indescribable clarity  
between the vessels
of our souls
 Feb 2017 Renée Brookes
Styles
You lost me,
search for something,
you will never find,
in another person;
ME.
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