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 Feb 2013 Canaan Massie
Tori
It’s been a while

Your hair has creeped back and exposed the top of your head and your eyes change color a lot but maybe they always did that its been a while.

The conversation lapsed in on itself again 
and David had fallen asleep,
To dream about smoke stacks reportedly,
And had left us alone with
all the conversations and laughter and arguments of the last eight years that we never had
Reverberating off the windows and leather seats and dissipating into radio static
I asked how to switch to AM and
You were surprised although
I was just being nostalgic for days when we'd wait in your car on cold mornings and I was too young to understand anything
I awkwardly admitted that i just felt like
hearing some one talk
And you fiddled with the **** thing for too long before you picked one
and after a minute
it became horribly apparent to us both that the topic of the morning was "dead beat dads"
 Feb 2013 Canaan Massie
Jessie
I cannot fathom
why that pretty song lasted so much longer
when I was so exhausted
I could hear my bones groan.
Yet that sad poem ended so much quicker
when it was about you.
One sang me to sleep.
One lead me to nightmares.
I cherish your voice
Like the last drop of coffee
On a restless morning.

I wish it was us raining
Falling and melting together
As the sky's tears do.

I long to be the song
Circling tiredly through your head
When you lay down at night to sleep.

I'd give up three meals
If every time I ate
I dined on the warmth of your lips.

I wish to be steaming water
Rolling over your skin
Making you sigh with satisfaction.

I want to be the towel
That kills the cold air
Right when you leave the shower.

We will be the clock
That ticks to forever
For time is no challenging measure.
A way to **** your soul?
Allow it to believe it is half of a whole.
Souls don't always belong to another;
not a father, a mother, a friend or a brother.

Some belong to silence.
Some belong to alliance.
Some **** greedily from the breast of violence.
Souls like money, souls like trades.
Souls like sunny, souls like rain.

Souls pull on everything that may heal you,
All while pushing away everything that may.
They keep your wants and needs away,
All while keeping your fears at bay.

Souls like ***, no matter the meaning;
Contiguity feeds the soul that is leaning.
Leaning into a vacuous space;
Pursuing nothing in an infinite chase.

No one is there, not a soul.
Nothing is there to fill the hole.
Dig and dig as deep as you crave;
But there was never a soul to save.
 Jan 2013 Canaan Massie
Jessie
Pour me out.
Take me back to a day
of oblivious existence
Where our only issue
was being together
drinking it all in,
and never feeling
full.
Today,
I reached my tipping point.
And I might just finally topple over.
Shatter into a million pieces.
Scatter to the ends of the room
slip into secret cracks and crevices
you didn't even know existed
and will never find.
Clean the mess up halfway,
wipe up the water
sweep up the noticeable shards
assuring your guilty soul,
"That will suffice."
I hope you step
on the forgotten jagged pieces
you left behind.
And hear a crack
as your dry skin
meets glass once again,
but in a different way.
And when you look down
assessing your feet for damage
I hope blood seeps out.
Stains the floor red
forever tinted
with the same kind of pain
I get from knowing this
glass breaking,
earth shattering,
heart crushing
end to our story
is permanent.
I am. I do. I always have.
To self pity to to try laugh.
I guess we all do. We have to.
Drown the past and wait for the new.
Or Drown the past and drown ourselves too.
Disregard your ravenous claw from your unwinding grip
Keep telling yourself you'll be okay
Binding your life by a string, in hopes one day they'll come for you
They'll make your hope come alive once again
You stay hidden from the world
From its envious grip and judging eyes
Holed up in your sanctuary of grief,
Don't look to the past for hope or faults
Create your own burden
Time is fleeting in this once decayed form
"Pull them straps up kid, show em what your made of"
The world stares
As the dust floats off in the wind
I cry
*"I was only a figment of your imaginations.."
ARE YOU?


‘Are you here, are you here?’ he shouted, into the empty night
with worried frown he peered around in  the pale moon’s light
And with crackling leaves and branches on the hard frost ground
‘Neath his feet, he listened , to the night owls mournful sound

‘Are you there, are you there?’ he whispered; ‘Please say you are - and yet
‘Are you teasing, hiding, still playing hard to get?’
And his breath grew  raw and ragged  as the  winter’s wind did moan
And he stood there yearning, hoping - but still he was alone.

And far away in her chamber ,his pampered lover lay
She thought of him there waiting and then of yesterday
Of promises she gave to him and plans that they had made
Of thrilling days that they had spent in that forest glade.

But she was born to luxury and with his love she’d toyed
no scruples and uncaring, his hope she’d now destroyed
‘You’re not here, he whispered  and never will you be
And now you’ll never know my love what you have done to me.’

And so he left their meeting place  and walked until the dawn
The river deep it beckoned him his reasoning was torn
He looked around and shouted loud  ‘I knew she’d not meet  me
So  now I won’t be there for her and never more will be..

Hardly a ripple showed there on the river’s deep dark sheen
Not a trace to show just where his last  life’s breaths had been
That is except the footprints ,there etched upon the snow
That started in the forest’s glade with no-where else to go.



© Pamela M Brooke 2009
I fell for someone's eyes to gaze into
Not for your eyes

I fell for a face to look at
Not for yours

I fell for the kind words
Not the mouth that made them

I fell for the perfume of the flowers
Not for your scent

I fell for the gifts and presents
Not the bringer of such things

I fell for the tender kisses
Not the lips that actioned them

I fell for the nights spent getting high
Not for the company I kept them with

I fell for the romantic dinners
Not the hands that prepared them

I fell for the midnight lust
Not the way you made love to me

I fell for 'I love you'
Not for the way you said it

I fell for the absence of 'someone'

I fell for a hand, lips and body of a guy

I fell for the missing link

But it was, and never will be.

I didn't fall for you

It wasn't you

I fell into nothing.

That nothing - was you.
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