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You can't hold the short arm of the clock
and call it yesterday.
This is what I've learned this year. I think we've all grown up in ways we don't want to admit.

And in the end we're always more lost than ever found. But isn't that what life is all about? Finding your way back to yourself.

Happy new year everyone.
I hope joy gets your address right this time.
Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships

But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls

Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey
We all paint our lives.
The mountains of challenges,
The rivers of tears,
The waterfalls of joy.

We mix the colours of sorrow and laughter
And add the colours of experience and the years that passed.
The souls we will always remember
And the moments we will never forget.
Accomplished fingers stroking the strings
Vibrating the air, adjusting the stiffness
Ribs of willow securely placed between my knees
Enbowed and concaved
The amplification like ,embroidered words  
The flawless cello harmonious
As I grieve the instrument ,  I weep
Sometimes I wish you would
Hit me and kick me,
Make me beg for mercy,
And torture me forever.

Sometimes I wish you would
Beat me until I'm numb,
Make me cry out,
Cut me until I can't bleed anymore...

Sometimes I wish you would
Use my body,
Give me everything I deserve,
And tear me apart...

Sometimes I wish you would
Just throw me through a wall,
Break every bone,
Make my tears stream into my wounds...

Because that would be
So much easier than
Sitting here and
Watching you be with her.
January 7, 2017.
Your lips were kissed by angels
And your sweet, sweet smile stole the breath from my lungs

Your hand was so soft, yet so unforgiving when it wrapped itself around my neck
You choked the love out of me, strangled the words from my mouth

And I stood there while you did so

The mortuary stopped accepting bodies when it saw what you did to my heart
The coroner no longer wished to see how love could destroy anything

From the smallest, softest, most delicate petal of a flower

To a foolish heart with no more room to do anything but bleed
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