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 May 2015 Maria Francine
mia
sometimes,
people give up.
not in just in life,
in their peers,
in their family.
however,
i am one of those people
who give up on
*themselves.
i feel like this is **** but idrc lol
You made me hollow.

You took away the me that I could have been and tried to replace her with the me you thought I should be.

But I’m not her.

You may have stolen my insides and stuffed me with death and rot, but you did not destroy me.

It hurt, it still hurts sometimes, to feel the phantom of a future unrealized, but I persevere.

I was robbed, emptied, and left to live like that. Uneven. Never whole. Broken.

But I found out,

I could change that.

So I filled myself with flowers and clouds and packed in the spaces with laughter and rain.

I filled myself with endless dreams and glimmers of hope everlasting.

I grew. My flowers became a garden. My clouds became the very sky above my head. My laughter echoes life eternal and my rain became an ocean deeper than any man will ever see.

I am alive. I am alive and beautiful and wonderful and everything.

I.

Am.

Everything.
Moved to All Poetry.com
When I started this poem I was so full of anger it's amazing how we can find peace in poetry...
d a Y       a n d .     n I g h T  

it  storms.       it shakes.

my e y e s are burning from trying not to cry
my throat in knots from s c r e a m i n g inside
my knees to the floor, my hands are raised

asking the Lord to heal what memories I've saved  
I might have lost it all,
but I will never lose my faith.

weak, I am desperate for Life.
I look within, and begin to see the Light.
Amen
Tears fall, rain on
a dry day during
an Indian Summer.
Sun soaked and moon
drenched. Eye see.

Sighs slip, a warm
breeze bends the
willow and her wildflower
friends. I speak.

Hands touch, water
split by unwavering rocks
a fork forms. I feel.

Feet move, warm sand
marred by tidepools. I walk.

This body is a strange thing.
 Apr 2015 Maria Francine
kas
It rained
on the day
I left a note
on your windshield.
There's a girl alone in her bedroom
Playing with the air
In the shadows of the moon
Although no one's there.

Playing with her imagination
Afraid they might burst
Her bubble of protection
Keeping her from trust.

She doesn't share treasures
Nor secrets as well
Nothing brings her greater pleasure
Than playing with herself.

Her universe is huge, more than the whole earth
But tell me darling, will it be like this until death?


Because girl, what might become of you,
Without dreams to follow?

What might help you stay at peace,
When you're drowning in sorrow?

**What might bring you back to love
When they burst your bubble?
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