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Feelings?
feelings fade
everything fades
scars fade
graffiti fades
everything seems to fade
but everything seems to also stay the same.
Feelings still seem to be there at least a trace
Sometimes the heart still beats fast
Or
You try to replace the feeling of love with hate but still love
everything may go away but there are still traces
Graffiti seems to go away
You may not see it but it left a mark and is really truly still there
Everything seems to fade
but is truly still there.
  



L.S.
I just started writing poems so if you guys have any advice please tell me .. I'm not the best and I also **** at grammar and stuff and i'm just kinda putting words together that sound good and come from my heart.

Reconte Zuliet-Romeo

ZULIET:
Wherever I look
I see only YOU
This is my story
This is my life
This is my living
This is my LOVE
YOU, was always my desire

ROMEO:
Wherever I look
I see only YOU
This is my story
This is my life
This is my living
This is my LOVE
YOU, was always my desire

RACONTEUR:
Who has lashed
Destruction on LOVE?
Why there is LOVE's apocalypse
Even before world's day of judgment?

ROMEO:
Since I LOVE YOU
The whole world has turned
Enemy of our LOVE
Is that enough for
You to LOVE me eternally?

RACONTEUR:
This Zuliet-Romeo in LOVE
Desires only each other
Wherever they look
They see only each other
This is their story
This is their life
This is their living
This is their LOVE
"LOVE", that they always desire

RACONTEUSE:
Which LOVERS' blood is flowing
In the streams & rivers?
Which LOVERS' blood has dried
In the middle of the village-square?

RACONTEUR
Who has killed their love?
Who has murdered these LOVERS?
The earth is bursting volcanic fire
The sky is pouring melancholic tears
On top of that, who has taken trust
Out of LOVE, LOVING, BEING LOVED?

ZULIET-ROMEO:
Wherever we look
We see only each other
This is our story
This is our life
This is our living
This is our LOVE
"LOVE", that's what we always desire



1507

The Pile of Years is not so high
As when you came before
But it is rising every Day
From recollection’s Floor
And while by standing on my Heart
I still can reach the top
Efface the mountain with your face
And catch me ere I drop
i couldn't wait for the day
you sat, sick, wondering why i wasn't answering.
wondering why i couldn't just care
as much as you care.
cause it makes you sick to think that the person you would do
anything for doesn't feel as deep.
doesn't feel as hard.
because your anxiety has its hooks
dug so far in you that you cant breathe sometimes.
i care more than the others. always.
I’d call it ironic
If I knew what that meant
Likely every listener
Finds it ironic
That I say these things
I have the blues
In my privileged ears
And I’m hungry
By my choice
To be other than that
I must cross the river
In the opposite direction
Of the old train
Quickly over the bridge
Into shadow
And I look into darkness
And see myself
And my love
At the central root
   of our interwoven
      tapestry is a strong
          capacity to love
              originating at birth

                                 From the first touch
                                 we feel
                                 From the first kiss
                                 we receive

Elementary at our
   core value with
      respect to purity
         in understanding
            the context of love

                                  From the first hug
                                  that's embraced
                                  From the first smile
                                  that's graced

FUN-DA-MEN-TAL
   L        O        V        E
      full of grace, grounded
         in principal & entrenched
             in common foundation.
O
Poetry is my public apology, for loving
     And hurting you too much. I bleed
In adjectives. My scars appear
Randomly at the last pages
Of your old notebooks.
     I am revision. I am bare.
I do not know darkness which can
Shadow me, but this: that you
Can see, somehow, this cosmos,
     This timeless chaos,
The divine, the celestial, guiding you
     To count on, and count
     And count and count
          The stars again.*

© 2016 J.S.P.
Draft.
Or
Maybe you weren't skinny enough.
Maybe you talked too much.
Maybe you wore too much perfume.

Maybe you were never home on time, were a lousy cook, never made the bed, and liked ***** a little too much.

Maybe you weren't eloquent or quick enough, maybe you didn't have the willpower to stand up for yourself.

Or-did you ever consider-?

Maybe you were too perfect.
People who blame themselves for their failed relationships, for whatever the reason, sadden me. They need to know that in most cases, it's not their fault. I'm sure like most of my other poems that this one will go unliked and uncommented on, which is fine. It just needs to be out there, because maybe, just maybe, in a world of problems, this can be a ray of light to just one person.
Because
I probably won't answer.

Electronic mail
Is good enough
For today
I guess

Don't call me
Not today
Anyway

I probably won't answer
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