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 Aug 2019 Breanna Ables
Simoné
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
I saw her shadow in eyes of golden flame;
Nothing to lose, something to gain.

She exhaled whispered promises, tendrils of sin.
Her cold lips smiled; insidious is her grin

She spun and spun with airy grace
But nothing fled the ivory mask, her face.

The snow fell softly under the pale moon;
I saw her within my mind far too soon.
 Dec 2016 Breanna Ables
riwa
Don’t fall for me,
simply because
I will turn your kisses into similes
kissing you is like watching a sunset; slow, and beautiful.

Don’t tell me you love me,
simply because
your words will form metaphors in my mouth
you are a thunderstorm my heart is not ready for.

Don’t fall for me,
simply because
I am selfish,
every breath you take, every word you speak
I will find a way to turn that into a composition of letters and sounds
for my own purpose.


Don’t try to be with me,
simply because
I will try to trap you with my words
every space in my broken sentences will be filled with thoughts of you.

Stay with me,
I’ll turn your existence into a poem
stay with me,
I’ll engrave your name into my verses
stay with me,
stay with me,
stay with me,

so I don’t have to turn my heartache into a poem of sorrow once again.

I have not felt at ease with the world in a while,
but that has changed,
simply because
you are my world now
everything I do,
I do for you.


So this is a warning;
don’t fall for me,
simply because
I am a thief who is good with words,
*I will steal your love
and turn it into stories of malignancy and almosts.
12.10.17
Oh god
Keep it together.
Can't breathe. Need to sit down.
Your friend is dead.
Can't breathe need to sit down can't breathe
Keep it together
He was hit by a train
Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe
Keep it together
need to sit down can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe
*Keep it together
We are the strangers we were meant to be.
We are lost, we are cold, but never free.
How do we escape this dark unfriendly town,
streets they are so empty, streets they are so brown.
As we make our way through life,
we try to bury all the strife.
We turn around the bend, losing every good old friend
now we know we can't pretend that this moment is now the end.
I felt all of this pain
Tired of all these bothers
So to douse the flame
I asked help from others
But I just heard the sound
Of me being turned down

I didn't understand
Why did they not believe
That I needed a hand
I wasn't trying to deceive
So why do they frown
And turn me down?

My life may be great
Friends and family here
Yet myself I hate
And the future I fear
Lost and need to be found
Yet you turn me down

I trusted all of them
To help me up when I fell
But now I'm just a problem
An issue to expel
So it doesn't matter I drown
You would rather turn me down

The only people you trust
Must be chosen like fine art
Never feeling like they must
Their help always from heart
So they will never let me down
They make me feel safe and sound
Jacque
It hurts when people you trust don't acknowledge your problems because it just adds on to theirs. Instead of feeling more pain, I'd rather find those who I care about and will reciprocate the same.
He still lives with demons
that once held him tenderly
when no one would
be able to find the words
to say that fill the glass
as it is tipped back
and slowly emptied
of the liquor that stirs
memories from the headwind
that blew the lovers' hair back
on the drive through autumn
windy, windy mountain paths
as another Queen song plays
on the radio and the raindrops
on the windshield tap along
with fingertips against the steering wheel
to Freddy Mercury and shared heartbeats.

The truth is he is lying
there like an open wound
as he begins to measure self-worth
with texting tempo and memories
of last summer being too hot
to cuddle with one another
though it was more than enough
to hold feet under the thin sheets
that remember the glass
once again filling with words
as another drink is emptied
and his head burst through clouds
leaving him to hydroplane
through windy, windy mountain paths
as the raindrops on the windshield
applaud with the demons
that beckon tenderly for his return.

— The End —