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You smile,
But your lips have a quiver,
You laugh,
But there's a graininess to it,
As if you're about to choke.

The blue ocean laps across your feet,
But you see only the black of the night,
Your toes curl around the cool sand,
But the sand feels hot to you,
Burning, scalding with deafening heat.

You've wished upon a million stars,
But see them only as dim dots in the sky,
You give so much love to the world,
But don't know yourself what love is,
As if you've learned only selflessness.

Calm your senses,
Feel the wind upon your face,
Without feeling the heavy, dusty layer
Of nothing, permeating your senses,
With the sharp chill of a falling icicle.

Feel something,
Feel anything.
I'm tired of wasting my poetry on you
I can't remember how to write happy.
You ravage my mind. constantly.
Quietly lurking until you attack me
from the inside out
so I sit in the shower, naked
and try to wash the last of you off my skin
as if I can wash your memory away.
No, your ghost digs in,
burrowing deep in my soul
settling in for a long winter
and what am I to do
but bask in the glow of your memory
clinging to the strands of goodness
and let my self be wasted in our past
because it is so much better than a future alone.
 Dec 2015 Caroline Grace
Kylia
I cannot find you anywhere
Not behind heavy-lidded eyes
Nor underneath those covers 
We used to share, do you remember? 
I cannot find you, though I search
Trust me, I search high and low and near and far but you--
You remain a mystery, an abandoned house sitting
Among fields of wildflowers
Boarded up, roof caved in 
Creeping moss along cracks, ivy climbing up your 
Cold, concrete cast.
They say eyes are the windows to the soul
But you've pulled the blinds shut
Padlocked, hammered like
Every single Friday night 

I cannot find you anywhere 
Not among the stars in the skies
Nor in the dreams I used to discover
With only you and the cold air of December.
As it stormed, the leaves on the birch 
Fell like snowflakes, like the doves on our tattoos--
We were one, but now we are two two twoanditstings
It stings that I can't climb this tower
To rescue you. We can begin again! 
But you slipped like shadows out of this door (our door)
A missing person broadcast
And suddenly I am a boat without an oar
I am human but you are the eye of a storm and my heart!
It reels me in for the strike.
I don't fight
The morning comes without a glow, a glare, or a song to be sung.
A villainous stare creeps over above.
The ground is paved with soulless tears,
A guilty grin stands high above.

Sounds are disappearing,
In the towering shadows.  
Smiles are lost,
In deaths mile.

The sinner's will linger
Without Heaven's lover.
The children will bicker,
Without mother's fire.
New York's Weather For Today...
Copyright © 2015 Paul Forbes All Rights Reserved
She makes me smile,
Even when she’s miles away.
I can’t get her sweet voice out of my head.

It echoes through my heart,
and makes it beat.

Oh what she does to me,
Even when she’s miles away.
Copyright © 2015 Paul Forbes All Rights Reserved
It looms
And yet I refuse
To lose
This fight
To it.

It advances
And I stand firm
In resolve
To showdown
This bully.

It begins
Its acrid attack
And my lungs seize
But my will pleads
For my strength
To be enough

To endure
Yet another
Panic attack

And thus
Come out
The victor.

It may come
And come again,
But I will be here
'Til the end
To show it
I may not be immune
But I am not afraid.
 Aug 2015 Caroline Grace
Sarahi
Rare
 Aug 2015 Caroline Grace
Sarahi
A nice curve upon these lips
upside down then often flips

sinking deep with no one near
words buzz my head about fear

cryptic thoughts with simple minds
describes humans of three kinds

hum of nature's life outside
pink mush in my skull, just dyed

no pain skating though my form
feeling wooden, where's the swarm

thinking found answers, I'm lost
rare's high-priced but at what cost
too many metaphors so it's okay if you don't understand. This is just an outlet for me. Overthinking always gets the best of me, but today, not thinking or caring at all really upset me. Overthinking can be good. Humans of three kinds...
I admit that
Sometimes
I dream of peace
A purple sky
With a bottle of wine
A hazy window
Covered in a maroon cloth
On one side
Raindrops audible
But out of sight
Wooden walls and calm fires
A walk down a creaky hall
To read
I retire

The galaxy is awake
Through the sounds of the thunder

And I'm alive
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