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He left her in the lurch,
Standing at the door of the church,
Like a senior Miss Havisham,
She'd been ****** in by his spam,
She trailed off home,
Faced her life alone,
Unveiled her black wedding frock,
Thought, "'I'm  really better off,
I'll manage great, mates,
With him I shall not participate,
As in Chazza Dickens' literary creations,
A tale of dud expectations,
With senior passion--no relations!
Feedback welcome.
.
All the new flowers have gone.
I see flocks of birds flying away,
The waters of blue mountains
Fall, rush and scold, are running
Cold— wind, whispers and goes,
Lonely as a tree without leaves.
 Feb 2017 Amanda Francis
J
power
 Feb 2017 Amanda Francis
J
nobody
in the whole ******* world
has the power over you
that you do
**** that guy who broke into
your holy body,
vandalized your insides
used his hand
to crack stained glass windows
he smashed what you were born with
but know
he did not break you
there is beauty
in rebuilding
gentrify what he left condemned
you are still standing
you are still here
the power is in you
and boy,
does resilience
glisten
when you wear it
**boldly
saw the man who sexually assaulted me as a kid today and stopped breathing for a while until I realized he does not rule my life and wont ruin my day
.
I need a Drug.

A decongestant.
To unblock good thoughts,
so they flow through and wash away
the flotsam and jetsam
and bitter history, in the flat field.

A decongestant.
To relieve the suffocation,
entrenched in nasal pollution
denying access to fractured lungs
and caustic breathing, in the flat field.

A decongestant.
To ease the flow of feeling,
for it to cleanse and energise,
to be free to share with fey
and open hearts, in the flat field.


© Pagan Paul (22/02/17)
.
The Flat Field = reality/normality.
PPx
I stopped waiting by the phone
I stopped pressing my glass to the wall
straining for vicarious sound
I stopped waiting for distraction
to prevent me getting bored

I am alone
I am alone
but feel loneliness
only when I feel I ought to
The rest of the time
it is music
or the silence in between

I stopped pacing the floor
as if movement meant
I was doing something

I stopped looking for love
as if desire were the same
as feeling something for someone

As if holding out for change
was as good as holding a person
as if sleeping alone
caused dreams without reason
as if snatches of warmth
gave purpose to the seasons

I stopped collecting forget-me-nots
I stopped bleeding out my liberal heart
every time there was suffering
or hate in the spaces where
love should have been

I stopped waiting for someone
to doctor the still
where sorrow pervaded
the canned laughter of living

I stopped looking for someone
it was only then
I could start forgiving
C
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