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balancing now first time, although the coins don’t quite

fit the tray, using the pointed pen, keeping neatly.



have done this a while, got the rhythm,

the style of dressage and deportment

for one of our station.



i don’t have a badge, so

look with confidence, courage

so they know.               i quickly

fold tidily, imagine i am japanese

and check my hips in the showroom mirror.



i work on sundays, except

when i go on thursday.



so being monday, now

i change the bed.



carry on with the domestics.



sbm.
Three small chunks of my soul
Ripped right out of my chest
          Every weekend

       The same **** thing
The hugs, tears and kisses goodbye
               With them
The screaming, mistrust and hateful words
               With him

The pain seems neverending
And never getting any better
       All the bridges burned
   Without
          a single
                look
                      back­

But regret can build and build
When you realize some bridges
             Can't be rebuilt

And yet
         I can't regret him
Or the pain he dealt to me
    Cause he helped to create
Those three small pieces of my soul

          And they may be small
      But put together
   They create my life as a whole

    Every Weekend
The same **** thing
        And it hurts
   Finally having that feeling
Like you're actually whole
         Then all three pieces
             Get
            RIPPED
       Right out of my soul


And until next weekend
**I cannot feel whole
For Krystalyn, Klairety and KJ, my three beautiful children that I love dearly and miss even more when they're away from me.
Update: I haven't seen my children on two months, please copy and paste this link www.gofundme.com/r5wnpsd5  read my story and help if you can, thank you.
 Mar 2015 sapphic girl
Parul
still theres a tiny drop left in me
red and golden
wet with anticipation
To give to you
take my blood, as you have have taken my soul.
Oh, be happy for me.

i wont sacrifice my thousand breaths for your one, ill give them all for nothing.
if only you would look at me, look at me, and say you know.
Say you know me.

I shall not want health in your sickness nor shall I rejoice in your pain.
I will only bleed when you need me.
Better you than me.

I would die inch by inch to add a little more to your smile.
And relish the ache if it brings back the fire in your eyes.
Oh my love.

*Better you, than me
For you loser.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 Mar 2015 sapphic girl
Just Melz
There's more that meets the eyes
And this will never change
It's too complicated to explain why
The answer will never be the same
Just remember to hold us when we cry
And beware those moments we act insane
Sometimes a firm, warm place to land
Is the only thing to soothe our weary brain
Were difficult at best, impossible at worst
But true love is always on our mind first
Some women want the finer things in life
Some just want children and to be a good wife
Others need to be held and reassured constantly
Some just want to trust and receive honesty
No matter the woman, you'll never understand us all
But keep in mind... There's no greater feeling than the fall
there is beauty in a storm
(i promise to keep you warm).
darling, there is beauty in death
what are you so scared of ?
The English teacher told me,
"that proper poetry just had to rhyme."
"I had to tell her vehemently,
that I thought she was going out of her mind."
Poetry,  is a special heart felt thing.
It does not need to rhyme.
Unless it is a sonnet.
About a cute pink bonnet.
Or something similar.
I told her," that poetry came about from a free flow of ideas and rhythms"
That nobody knows from where it springs, as a trickling stream of words become an ocean of ideas.
Where eating leads to innovation and titles.
How many things can you find to write about chips and beans?
Watching television an inspiration in itself.
Just one word in conversation, may create a spark that could grow into a dinosaur or more.
So, Mrs Meacher,
English teacher,
Poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
Rhyming helps from time to time,
(C) LIVVI
1 I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
2 Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
3 I see her tripping where the bright streams play,
4 Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.
5 Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.
6 Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er:
7 Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
8 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

9 I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,
10 Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;
11 I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,
12 Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: --
13 Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, --
14 Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:
15 Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,
16 Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.

17 I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed
18 Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;
19 Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,
20 Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.
21 Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore
22 While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:
23 Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,
24 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
 Feb 2015 sapphic girl
Just Melz
There's nothing
      More beautiful
   Than discovering
           You might actually
        Be in love

There's nothing
       More heartbreaking
    Than noticing
           You're finally loved
       Yet unable to return it

There's nothing
       More painful
    Than realizing
           You'll never be able
        To truly love again

There's nothing
         More discouraging
     Than remembering
              You've been hurt
          Too many times

*
And your heart can never
be healed enough to love
as fully as you once did.
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