Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2013 Artistry
James Gerard
August 4th, 1992
That night
My heart began beating
To the rhythm of
Two words
Samantha Shea
My baby girl
She was 9 pound 6 ounces
Of pure love and joy

Her mother’s eyes
My ears
But her smile
Was all her own
She seemed almost wise
Just staring blankly back
At me
Like she knew me
Better than I knew myself
I have never loved anyone
So much

I tried to give her all I could
Make her feel like a real princess
Make her feel safe
And loved
She grew up with things
Her mother and I
Only dreamed of as children
But she was never selfish
Never unkind

I never knew
How much she hated herself
Until I noticed that her arms
Made her look like war veteran
And her eyes
Like those of a ghost
A lost soul wandering around
Lost and Suffering

Could it be that hard
To be a teenage girl
Could it be that hard
To have everything
Handed to you
Everyone love you

That night I saw her as
Nothing but selfish and unkind
I mean how could she do this to us
To herself
I looked her in the eyes and asked
Why
With a single tear running down her face
Resembling a winter’s first snowflake
Or a desert’s first raindrop
She let out the words
“I wasn’t meant for this world”
No you were meant for me
You are my world

I wanted to wipe her tears
And heal her scars
Her years of fear and self-loathing
Was no match for my love
My compassion
My understanding

I spent the next two weeks
Helpless, lost, and confused
By the time we had found her
The bath water was as cold as my heart
The floor stained with drops of
Complete sadness
No note
I cried until I was
Red in my face and
Blue in my heart

A parent should never
Have to bury their child
So we had her cremated
We figured that
She spent 16 years
Stuck in her own box
She shouldn’t have to be
Buried in one

I’ve never loved anyone
So much
written for a dear friend of mine
 Jul 2013 Artistry
me
Remember when on that wet day
when I left and you stayed
under the umbrella with pokes and tears
and I asked 'Why? Why do I like you so much?'
and you just laughed at my
eloquence
but now I know it's really since
we feel the rain while
others just get wet
 Jul 2013 Artistry
L E Dow
I want summer like I want you, constantly. I’m tired of cold that snatches my breath and hope. I want the trees to regain their decency and cover their bare limbs. Wearing the greenest fullest blouses. I want the grass to grow. Thunder to roll and rain to fall. I want fat drops to bounce of the pavement, to wash my face and hair.

I want the sun to bath my skin in beauty, making it glow with warmth. I want dresses and shorts and skirts. I want brown legs and flip-flops. I want turquoise pools and florescent swimsuits.

I’m sick of cold fingers and toes. I’m tired of heaters and blankets. I want to roll down the windows. I want sweat on my back and only sheets on my bed. I’d love warm nights, drinking sweet tea, and making love beneath the stars. I wish for glowing street lights and lake nights. I want to sit in the windows of cars at sonic.

I want barbeque sunflower seeds and the fourth of July.

I want field parties with only beer and red bull, and only bonfires to see by. I want fireflies and chigger bites. Lemonade out of mason jars.
I miss cotton, and sandals. I miss volleyball, ***** feet, and ponytails. But what I miss most about summer is freedom. Those summer night driving under an endless sky of stars.
Copyright 2010 by Lauren E. Dow
 Jul 2013 Artistry
Anthony Sexton
And as I sit the wind blows
Gently through my hair
When I come to the realization
That we're the perfect pair.

"A match made in Heaven"
Would be too cliché to say
So would "Everlasting love"
So I'll try another way-

Your smiles are bright and golden
At the sound of my voice
I have to say my dear
There really was no choice.

You had me from the beginning
If that's not too cliché to say
But today is something different
A new chapter on the page.

Our lives have intertwined
Into something that can't be undone
And as I say those three little words
I feel they weigh a ton.

Carry them with you
Wherever you may go
And with this you will remember
That you will never be alone.

Yes, these feelings may seem cheesy
And they may seem a little cliché
But I know of no other person
That I'd rather be with today.
 Jul 2013 Artistry
Sara Teasdale
When I talk with other men
I always think of you—
Your words are keener than their words,
And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
Blows the dreams away.

— The End —