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But
You say you love me
But
Ive been lied to before
You say you want to be with me
But
You take off out the door
You say your issues are not my problem
But
You do nothing to try and solve them
You say your scared of losing me
But
You keep pushing me away
You say you miss me
But
You leave and stay gone for days
You say your not cheating
But
Another womans bed is where you lay
You say you dont lie
But
Thats what all liars say
You say you love me
But
Ive been lied to before
I know i love you
But
Love goes two ways
I know i miss you
But
Shouldnt have to everyday
I know i want you
But
Its time i move on
I hate doing this
But
It will be easier once im gone
Break Me Into Pieces
Let My Colors Bleed
Put Me Back Together
Whichever Way You Please

I’m Not A Simple Puzzle
It Will Not Be With Ease
But, If My Heart Is Found
It’s Your Name It Will Read
A professor I am studying with has told me to keep a diary, so that I can find myself. She told me this will help me with my art, which I believe has validity. I struggle with expressing myself through my art because I keep my feelings locked up, and I need to figure out what is actually in my heart. But, I have always been able to find myself through writing poetry. I need an excuse to write again, and I hope I will see more of you. Much love always.

-Sydney
i look down at the scale and say

“how much is my life worth today?”
part 2 is longer and coming soon
I'm not a puppet on a string.
Meant to be dangled as someones play thing.
OR dance to another’s music.
Tonight, I plan my escape
to cut my strings and run away.
just playing with word puppet
Life is like a maze
Lots of turns,
Blockages
But there is always a way

Sometimes, one has to go back
And follow another track
Ensure to pick all the gems on the way
Including those along the blocked path
Just break a sentence
In two
You'll sound poetic.
10.2018
 Jan 19 Elizabeth Zenk
Jen
An abstract butterfly’s wings
Are made of unpractical things
Rings, springs, flings, and pings
It tries to fly but fails to flutter
There isn't enough fuel
In its tank, so all it does is sputter
She sharpened blades,
turning her head as she engraved
thou blistered name
into her delicate flesh
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