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Sara Jones Jun 2015
Lost souls never make it home
They simply wonder for eternity
I've gotten a few suggestions that I should put wander instead of wonder.
But I mean that the soul will always wonder what home is like, because they are so lost they will never return.
Sara Jones Jun 2015
There's this boy
Who I never knew his name
I used to be a ***** to him but,
He'd just laugh it all away

There's this boy
And he came with my friend to my home one day
He made me laugh,
Made me want him to stay

There's this boy
And we did intimate things
He said he felt a connection
My heart was in his strings

There's this boy
And one day
He said he needed me
That's when I said I'd stay

There's this boy
And he's pretty cute, you see
He's got a fighters heart
And eyes as soft as seas.

There's this boy
I never knew his name
But now I do
And I hope he stays.
For my boyfriend, Tristian.
Sara Jones Jun 2015
Years from now I'll go back to this time
Where I went to a funeral and touched the hands of a dead man
And I'll remember the voice of the man who passed
And I'll remember how the cold of his hand stained my mind with thoughts of distress
I'll remember how he used to be
And I'll remember my final memory
Of a wax-looking figure colder than ice.

Maybe I shouldn't have reached out with my heart in my hand
In hope that my warmth would bring him back
Maybe then I wouldn't have hurt so much
When I touched a dead man's hand
Sara Jones Jun 2015
We thought he'd never see sunrise,
Now sunrise is all he sees.
Up in heaven with our other passed loved ones,
He's smiling cheek to cheek.

With the angels singing hymns,
And he glancing down,
I'm sure he wants to say:
*"It's alright, I'm okay now."
My Uncle David Kinchen, 62, died at 1:30am the morning of Saturday, May 30th, 2015 from Lymphoma (cancer of the lymph nodes). He had GVHD (body attacks stem cells from a stem cell transplant) in his liver. His liver gave out and he passed away peacefully.
Sara Jones May 2015
When will I see, you
Only ever talk to me
When you are lonely?
My first haiku in a long time
Sara Jones May 2015
I can't begin to tell you how many times before closing my eyes
That I have asked the darkness
"WHY HAS MY HEART NOT STOPPED BEATING?"
The truth is that I have become a beacon for some, and a mother to most
Though I want nothing more than to slit my own throat

I can't say I want to die
But I can't say I want to live either

As I lay in a room with no windows
I have to contemplate the meanings of my own writings
Why do I throw my emotions here, to live in a heap?
A girl who cried wolf would be better to compete

In a world so lost
I can never be found
I guess my only option left
Is to be put
In the ground.
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