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I'm scared of still hearing your voice
after I went deaf.

Still seeing your smile
With my eyes closed.

I'm scared of falling asleep,
for I can only see you in my nightmares.

I'm scared of having your taste in my mouth,
When was the last time you kissed me?

But over all, I think I'm scared you have become my muse...
because I've dedicated you all these verses
*When you can't even give me a single word.
The sun feels cold without you
Even the warmest days feel like winter
My heart pumps ice through streams down my arms and legs and up to my head
But you put it there

The sun feels cold without you
Wrapped up in feelings that were never mine
I used to dream in constellations near the warmth of our stars
But you dropped me off somewhere in-between Neptune and Pluto

The sun feels cold without you
When I was with you I dreamt in colors and thought in hues
Now I don't even speak in blue
There's only black and grey
You even took the dazzling whites

The sun feels cold without you
Today it's 75 degrees without a chance of clouds
But today, like yesterday, I'm swimming in my blankets
The pain that caused my bane,
Resides mainly in my brain,
but in order to remain sane
I must maintain my hearts
burning flame never let it wane,
for it contains the vein that sustains...
my life and some kind of hope.
Lately
I've tried desperately to delete me.
I guess it's not really up to me
to successfully destroy what i did not create.

Truly
I do not take this life lightly.
O.k. maybe I do slightly.
Because sometimes I feel like a mistake.

Forgive me
This is not the best side of me.
Only the side that really hates me.
On my soul it feeds and is never slaked.

Believe me
If I could control this I would be.
Because I'm not into hating me.
But now it's much too late.

For everything I hear and everything I see,
tells no one here loves me but pain and grief.
For all the love I've given and all the love I've had.
A darker remnant I am now of
just a man eternally sad.
I am trying to be a poet
but I felt like your poem.
Am I an artist or
am I the remnants of your paint
splattered on my favorite jeans?
Or the beautiful words you gave me
including "I'm sorry"?
I am trying to be a poet
but the words get spit back in the bottle
and stick with strangers who I have told too much to.
Am I a writer
Or am I just gagging on the words you threw at me
when you smashed the plates
and slammed the door?
I am trying to be a poet.
But I am tired.
Isn't
That
Poetry?
Lost in these dreams and reveries,
Hopes for you,
And wishes for me.

Dreams like snow,
Falling down,
Feet on the ground,
Head in the clouds.

Reveries like fire-light,
Warming my heart,
And thoughts like fireflies,
Floating through the dark.

Dreams and reveries,
Always abounding.

Head in the clouds
Because my feet
Are on the ground.

Breathing in
The biting cold,
Waking up new dreams.

Snowflakes in brown-black hair,
Dreams in bright-brown eyes.

Pink noses,
And blushing cheeks,
Bitter-cold hands,
And cold-cracked fingers.

Feet in the snow,
Head in the snow-clouds.

Still I am here,
Lost in these dreams and reveries.
"Why are the poet's eyes always sad?"
A little girl asked me once.
She saw me furrow my brow,
And continued with her question.
"You see,
No matter how big you smile,
Or how hard you laugh,
There's always something there.
It's like you've found
The Great Sadness,
And you have to bear it all alone."

I nodded my head,
Fingers on my chin.

Why is it that the poet's eyes are
Always sad?

I'll answer your question
Like I did hers.

To be a poet,
You have to feel every emotion.

You have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And survive,
And you have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And die.

Poets have to know what it's like
To hear a baby cry for the first time,
And what it's like
To hear a mother sob,
Because her baby came quiet
And left without a fight.

We feel every
Great Happiness
And we find every
Great Sadness.

Why are poet's eyes always sad?

It's because the poet
Is always sad.

Once you find
The Great Sadness,
You can never rid yourself of it.

But if you look closely
In a poet's eyes,
You can always see
Happiness
And you can always see
Joy.

Because a poet
Has to feel every emotion,
He feels them all at once
And they can't be hidden.

In every poets' eyes,
You see happiness,
And you see sadness.
You see joy,
And you see pain.
You see love,
And you see loss.

Why are the poet's eyes always sad?

I think it is better to ask,
Why are the poet's eyes always smiling?
I shall not fear the
Dark, for the brightest of lights
Shines within my heart
The greatest artists
Are born in heartache; not in
Times of happiness.
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