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 Apr 2016 a friend
gray rain
you had to leave
no emotion shown
I begged you please
but you had to go
 Apr 2016 a friend
gray rain
fender amps spread music around town
the music in your room is turned up loud
pop rock, indie or punk
suddenly your mood has sunk
a bottle of Jack Daniels and then your drunk
crying unknown to what you've done
listening to the words that are sung
understanding the feelings of Lynn Gunn
This is the song in the background
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rfrFT_3GP4A
 Apr 2016 a friend
gray rain
Hands are shaking
breathing is deep
the anger is taking over me
writing feelings on a blank sheet
insanity creeping in I cannot speak
this language seems foreign to me
the one I use everyday of the week
my body trembels
feels strong but weak
no control
in how I act
cold shivers run down my spine
as emotions are running high
no control over anything
when the anger is taking over me
 Mar 2015 a friend
Monika
In the light, he no longer calls you "baby." He no longer thinks it's cute that you can't stop your hands from shaking. He no longer tells you it's okay to stay in bed; he starts pulling the sheets off of you, yelling "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET BETTER." In the light, you can see the outlines of his cheeks and the way his eyes look down at you and you can tell he never really loved you. In the light, he's packing his bags and driving his car away. Things aren't as simple when the sun is shining through your window - everything is so much clearer. In the dark, you could pretend you were okay because he couldn't quite make out the frown on your face or your shaky hands or what those prescription bottles read. Now he can look at you clearly and he doesn't like what he sees.
 Feb 2015 a friend
Edward Coles
Once I held you in my arms,
I loved you in my sleep,
above the traffic
and the circumstance,
above the slaughter of the sheep.

You made me sing at my guitar,
a grown man falling to defeat.
Now I cannot find The Answer
in the company I keep.

The game is rigged, we know it is,
in a hustler's *******,
the bank cartels
and corn-fed chicken
descend upon the weak.

I held you in my arms
on a precipice brave and steep,
above the breadlines
and the cannibals,
above the slaughter of the sheep.

You have me writing poetry
about landscapes left unseen,
you kissed the addict on the mouth
and now he's looking to get clean.

But the day is long, you know it is,
forgive me for sounding bleak,
a sucker for
those sad, sad songs,
and that chemical retreat.

I am not working on perfection
in a lifetime stretched and brief,
but I am working on a promise
that for once,
I intend to keep.

See, I've got a knack for giving up,
for feigning inner peace,
I've had my fill of oil spills
and the slaughter of the sheep.

You've felt it too, that burdened love,
the dead-end of familiar streets,
you lay down with him,
habitual ease;
lilac skin now a slab of meat.

The dignitaries come,
the friends you have to meet,
a compromise of ancient ties,
amongst the ******
and the thief.

Words are falling fast for you,
though I lack the skill to piece
all the fragments you paint for me
in this temple of disease.

The race is run, you know it is,
a pace we couldn't keep,
our lungs are full
of cigarettes,
our tongues of old deceit.

The Lie is out amongst the crowds,
but I have no time for war and peace;
I am slipping into
my lover's robe,
into your twisted sheets.

Once I held you in my arms,
I loved you in my sleep,
this wolf's disguise,
those bells that chime
at the slaughter of the sheep.
A spoken word piece. I think it works better when you read as you listen:

https://soundcloud.com/edwardcoles/the-slaughter-of-the-sheep
 Feb 2015 a friend
Bec
I am 16
And I have found love in a
boy who is 5 years older than me.
He tells me he loves me and I
lose myself in him.
He breaks my heart, twice.
We still keep in touch.

I am 20
I have found love in a girl
with curly blonde hair and eyes
like the sea. She holds my hand
and sings to me, kisses my forehead.
We haven't spoken in a year.

I am 21
I think I have found love.
He doesn't acknowledge what we
are in public and he thinks insulting
me is funny. He kisses me like he loves me
though, so I tell myself it's enough.
He moved miles away; I think he was
just as lonely as I was.

I am 22*
She's the one. Her hair is never
the same color and sometimes
she laughs too loud. She has scars
that she regrets, but she's doing
everything she can to keep going.
She is me, and I am in love.
 May 2014 a friend
Jazmine Moore
If
 May 2014 a friend
Jazmine Moore
If
I could keep writing you poems you'll never read

Or I could put my pen down and bandage my own heart

Either way, I would still lose because I wouldn't have you
 May 2014 a friend
Jazmine Moore
I wonder when people will stop falling in love through Instagram and twitter dms.
Having a false sense of acceptance through likes and retweets has become a norm for our world and I'm wondering when it'll stop.
I wonder when boys will stop being so afraid to love and girls will believe that men actually aren't all the same...
And I wonder when gays will have the rights they deserve and I wonder when women will stop being looked at as the white mans inferior
And I wonder when more women will actually believe that we don't have to be the white mans inferior
And I wonder when men will learn its okay to be a little vulnerable
And I wonder when **** victims everywhere will get the justice they seem to neglect to serve
And I wonder when double standards will seize to exist
And I wonder when people will get off social networks and go for more walks
And I wonder when dates become more common and one night stands will become extinct
I wonder when men will stop disrespecting our women and women will respect themselves more.
I wonder when I'll stop dreaming about all of these things.
But most of all, I wonder when we will decide we are the ones who control our own happiness

— The End —