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 Mar 2017 Alexandra M Burlacu
Pax
I am not me like what you want me to be
        I am here like you always wanted me to be
How could I ever be me, the me I want to be

I’m tired of you, tired of crying in the dark.
pretending at the park
                - watching people talk with voices that barks
I feared it will spark an awful reaction stark
So I build an ark -
Sailed away into far,
                      far - dream land
where prejudice & judgment is not in our hands
but in the all caring higher being's commands.

Then again reality is never like that,
So I hide, I stumble, and I fall
     into the gray solace of my patience
The higher being cares, yet you need choices
to stay strong - fight and survived
                        until blessings comes along
                                and heal the dying soulful song.

© 2013
Old notes: "a positive poem I guess - i am not sure it's worth posting. Since the month of June, i became sickly... and i have lost my pen of expression and the courage to write a piece. I always lose confidence, lose my self-knowing that i can... lose everything all together to the overly sensitive soul, then fall into darkness, alone - then come back into the gray solace - never wanting to give up what i hope will come true, someday, somewhere in time."

now looking back at this note and re-reading this poem again, then posting it here, i realized that my driving force in writing is my emotional self, on which right now i feel dull, seems like im losing my will to write, and to cope up with realities barricades...

thanks for reading... hoping you and I can find something in this piece, something good, something nice, something positive to move forward to...
i.

i await
the sudden
awakening
of colour, in
the straw air
the clouds of
yellow flowers
wrap the
forsythia in gold.

ii.

the land is
ivy and moss,
thick-blades
of grass bend
in rain so
light that the
grass hardly
weighs down,

the rain is a
bare breeze

a time-surrendering
blossoming of air.

iii.

you said,
i love you
and it meant
more than i can
say and
i cried for joy.

iv.

boy, with your
brown eyes
dark with the
wild brooding shore,

your touch is
fire on my skin

and i brood too,
wilder than air.

v.

a bird sings,
sings of wilderness
and beauty
and that a heart
must be free.

the white
sheets of the
sky are still
in their mists.
I look in the mirror
and see a wonderful girl
with big brown eyes and short brown hair
I smile, what a contagious smile
I can't help but smile even broader
I muster my body
I think of all the perfect thin models
and embrace myself out of joy for not looking like them
I love all my weird habits
as well as my beautiful
character traits
and I love the fact that I'm
completely unperfect.
I appreciate everything
my life offers for me,
I am grateful for every instant
I am able to enjoy my surroundings.
I have to admit
I have fallen
deeply in love
with myself.
Sometimes the stars in your lovers become darkness
It is okay to leave before the darkness swallows your moon
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