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I wanna hurt
I wanna bleed,like they always do
Lay me down where the trees bend
low
Lay me down where the greenery stings
So I can feel
So I can remember
That to love me
Is to suffer me
 Aug 30 Susie Clevenger
Nunu
Maybe her dress is a little wrinkled,
and her hair is always out of place…

Maybe she doesn't need to seek perfection,
to live her life with grace.

Maybe she gets a bit tired,
and her thoughts lose their speed…

Maybe she gives herself time,
to prioritize her basic needs.

Maybe her heart beats to a rhythm,
that only her wit can hear…

Maybe her strength lies in her softness,
and her courage in her tears.

Maybe some days,
she’s swallowed the sun in her smile…

And maybe other days,
she allows herself to fall apart for a while.

Maybe she knows,
of all the love life can give.

And maybe she knows,
that a life without love
is not one that has been lived.
****... think i healed myself with this one
 Aug 30 Susie Clevenger
Nunu
a moth mistook my lamp
for the moon,
and broke itself
believing
the light was love.
ive always found moths melancholic. perhaps they embody the essence of delusion that we cling onto.
The creeping hand of death curtails

Your control

Looking for it's opportunity

To strike

The fragile line between light

And dark
Hatred with violence
And the fear within.
Freedom from distress,
Tranquility lingering.

Only fairness,
A state of harmony.
Presence of justice -
A true symphony.

Peace is not a treaty.
It's the truth.
What a happy life
I realized I have got
When I stopped thinking
Here in the dry constellations,
Orion winters in the blue west, the
Drinking Gourd spills silver on the void, and
the Seven Sisters crowd together,
quilting the covers of night.
I miss the beach.

I miss the salt, I miss the sweet
curled wave that rolled the wind
into a gesturing wand
of air and water,
joining two lurching souls
ungainly in their solitary progress,
into one smooth moving thing
hip to hip, stride for stride
handfast, untarnished

because you chose to throw
your arm around my neck
and let us spin

in the eddy, as the tide
ran out, till we were dizzy

and all the slipping stars
cleared the boards and moved
their heavy banquet
to our eyes.

©joyannjones December 2016
The stars were not to blame
Nor the ocean between us
Or even that dreadful place
We used to call home

It was only you and me
Always a little too wrong
And maybe just a little
Too late
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