Fragile soul
Fragile

Soft crystal sobs
Soft crystal love

Pure romance
Soft sweet lips
Yet, the savior of the lips
Was bitter

She gave him roses
And as a return she got the thorns
She gave him meat and as a return she got the bones

Standing in a field cover up in white flowers
Gently holding the only red rose

What else can be red?
If she is surrounded by white roses

Looking at all the thorns
She holds them tight
Till the thorns cut her open

The blood is dripping
While she runs around the white field
Abd covers the white roses in red blood

Till she gets pale
For the last time she smiles
And whispers

"Finally the roses are red..."
Then collapses and for the last time she takes a look at the red rose that he gave her

1 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Before I put my words and wishes in a poem, I put them in a prayer first.
Luyanda once told me that I don’t always have to rhyme every time I write these words down.
She also regularly told me that I need to smile twice as much as I frown.
I have been a loner, way before my peers began smoking marijuana.
Sitting in the local park or standing on some dodgy neighbourhood corner.
But I can’t judge them, sometimes I want to get lost in those same clouds too.
They all get so high to the point where they cannot even see the ground.
I’m from the city where jacaranda trees light up the streets with their purple blooms, but I’ve told you before.
Spoken words filled with so much truth, I had to reiterate the quotes I wrote back in my youth.
You need to know the value of life before it gets taken away from you.
Will you be a victim of the past or pay homage to your mother’s womb?
View the kaleidoscope of life through the perspective of a spoken-word poet.
Freedom and love are like finding forever and I hope that everyone in my life knows it.
Let’s all meet in the pages of a story where the ink always holds us together.
Every poem of mine is written from the heart so every single word you hear is guaranteed to be a pulse.
I have been a loner, way before my peers began smoking marijuana.
Before I put my words and wishes in a poem, I put them in a prayer first.
Luyanda once told me that I don’t always have to rhyme every time I write these words down.
She also regularly told me that I need to smile twice as much as I frown.
I’m Lonnie Lynn with the poetry and maybe that explains why we have a lot in common.

It is evening, Senlin says, and in the evening
The throbbing of drums has languidly died away.
Forest and sea are still. We breathe in silence
And strive to say the things flesh cannot say.
The soulless wind falls slowly about the earth
And finds no rest.
The lover stares at the setting star,--the wakeful lover
Who finds no peace on his lover's breast.
The snare of desire that bound us in is broken;
Softly, in sorrow, we draw apart, and see,
Far off, the beauty we thought our flesh had captured,--
The star we longed to be but could not be.
Come back! We will laugh once more at the words we said!
We say them slowly again, but the words are dead.
Come back beloved! . . . The blue void falls between,
We cry to each other: alone; unknown; unseen.
We are the grains of sand that run and rustle
In the dry wind,
We are the grains of sand who thought ourselves
Immortal.
You touch my hand, time bears you away,--
An alien star for whom I have no word.
What are the meaningless things you say?
I answer you, but am not heard.
It is evening, Senlin says;
And a dream in ruin falls.
Once more we turn in pain, bewildered,
Among our finite walls:
The walls we built ourselves with patient hands;
For the god who sealed a question in our flesh.

I just want to know
That it's right by that
Feeling in my stomach
And I want it to be magical
Not stereotypically per se
But magical for me
And for her or for him
Because love is love
No matters what's in the pants
I want a love story
Not right now
But soon
I have always dreamed
Of having a high school sweetheart
And it could've been possible
If he wasn't abusive
If I noticed what she was trying to say
Or if he wasn't two-timing
I wonder if she knows
I digress
I want romantic
Like every girl deep down
I just want real love
But I want flings now

Now we've faded away
Into yesterday's
Fairytales.
But I know the reality
You'll be just fine without me.
While I spend my days getting
Wasted.

If you were an artist
How would you sketch me?
With dark colours
But carefree pencil marks?
If you were a writer
How would you describe me?
Would you use sweet words
But meaningful ones?
What do I look like to you?

Will you write me
A poem?
Something for me to read
When you're gone
And the days get lonely
And the nights become long?
Will you write me
A poem?
For when I cannot Love myself?
Will you write me
A poem
To show that you care?
So that we can last until the end
Of time
As words
On paper.

I am sitting here
Almost two full years later
(One week until to be exact)
And I still can't get you out of my head
It's late night phone calls that flood my memory
Like 12:46 AM
And You saying things like
"Please go to sleep, it's so late,
And I don't want you hurting in the morning"
And
"If I say something really sweet--
Well I think it's sweet, at least--
Will you go to sleep"
Then
"I want to be your first kiss"
But B, that's just who you are
You're the divide and conquer kind
It's little lines like
"I owe a penny"
And a competitive
"Well, I owe 100 pennies"
That make me want to cry
It's references to songs
And wanting to end my self inflicted scarring
When in reality
You are a part of that collection
It's that 11 PM call
Where you "met" my mother
If we could even call it that
It's two days later
And the first "I love you"
And me almost crying as those words
Tumbled from your mouth
I believed it all
I believed in you
But then it became
"You're a great girl
But I don't think this will work"
I waited for two weeks
Before making a mistake and coming back
I didn't think it was a mistake
When you asked for a date
Of cuddling on your uncle's couch
Because you just got your license
And wanted me to be first in your car
It was supposed to be teriyaki and your favorite movie,
Hercules
And you wouldn't have cared if I sang along
With every single song
Because you loved the idea
Of a private screening
Not in a ****** way
But of course,
You were a sixteen year old boy
You wanted ***
I can't believe I actually thought about it
And the simple words that
Made me believe it could happen
"Of course I'm upset, Silly,
I didn't get to see my girl"
A few days later the silence came
Because you decided
You couldn't date me because I attended
The school of your past
But you decided to date her
A character of the past attending your school of the past
You even convinced her to runaway with you
When CPS pulled some ******* moves
With your abusive father and standby mother
I could've been that girl
I could've loved you forever
I remember December
When you told me you'd found God
And tried to help convert me
You were the only one I'd let call me
"Sammie"
I've always thought it weird that
You were allowed to flirt with me
But it couldn't be me flirting with you
Even with your migraine
And my offer to give
"All the pennies in the world to make it all better"
I learned that's because you'd leave
Three days later
I waited **** near a year
Before reaching out to you again
With a letter drafted
A total of
Twenty-eight times
Because of an English teacher
Encouraging thanks
You replied and I filled with hope
Only for you to ask me to stop talking to you
And your friends
Even though Matt is my friend, too
But before leaving again
I was aware of the biggest backstabbing
In all of history
You were back with the friend I was defending
That brought us together
That made fun of your invisible genitals
I cried mercilessly
And ran to the bathroom
Throwing my body against the wall
Almost breaking my fists
Then I cooled off
Walked to the floor where
Bailey and I were dining
She on a turkey sandwich
With cheese, mustard, and olives
Myself on a buffet of tears
When I saw a tall figure I somehow knew was you
Signing out
She thought I was delusional
But when she turned
All she could say was,
"Samm...that is him"
And I huffed up my chest
Stuck up my head
Dried my eyes
And bit my lip
I held it together for a
Full five seconds
After you walked out the door
And I ran faster than I'd ever run before
Faster than you'd ever run before
Even with football before your shoulder
And bashed a dent in that concrete wall
You tried to contact me
January of this year
We talked for a bit because I'm stupid
When it comes to the past
But then I called you a *******
And you left
I didn't talk to you until May afterward
Before Cole broke my heart
But B,
*******
Please stop haunting me
Please leave me alone

You can bleach your hair
Or cut it off with a butcher knife
All of this done by candle light,
In the middle of the night

Get him just drunk enough
On perfume liquors in the backyard
And whisper little things about
The parts of you made of glass

Trace his name across
Your open veins in vibrant reds
Mailing him dim lit photos
Of  scar tissue evidence

Crash your car into the drive-in movie screen
Think about how things could have been
If you never let it slip
That you dreamt of his top lip