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I'm tired
      I didn't get enough sleep

I'm so tired
     I can hardly eat

I'm so tired
     I don't know what to do

I'm so sick and tired,
     of not being with you

My life is not concrete
     unless I get my sleep

I'm so tired
     I feel like I've been bob-wired

This *****...
my heart is stuck
  I feel like a duck

no one understands
  but I still have my plans

I may seem broken
  but there's all ways another token

it may take months or even days
  but in the end it all ways pays
Why are people so mean?
Why must you look at me that way?
Why am I me and you, you?
Why are we friends?
Why must we date?
Why am I here?
Why are you here?
Why ask why?

There's a reason for everything, but I may never know.
(
       (
                   (
                     \/
                     /\
                      /   \
                   •
          •  
•  

/////

death is come

( you too --- little poet child )                                  


First ------ raw pain

( have you felt it   ? )
  

And a sense of lovelessness unexplained

( I'm sure you know  that  one ! )


A feeling of uselessness / depression / no energy

( fading away )

////////

Dying

We are all ( simply ) dying !!



So

Despite all our rantings and numb loving

and self abusing

The fact remains



We are dying



We are being slowly and systematically poisoned

///

We are of the population set to be reduced

So that others may be sustained

••

MURDERED

( if you will )

()
/\
/ \
,,,,,,,,,,

We should say goodbye to one another

Or

Truly
Surely

Sincerely

Finally meet and say HELLO
Magical
                  Dazzling, shining
             Glowing, moving, flying
             Lost, happy, free, amazing
                magnificent, delightful
                         Mysterious
My notebook
Full of words
Letters
Commas and periods

My notebook
Full of smudges
Eraser bits
Crinkles and creases

My Notebook
Full of messages
Hidden Meanings
Energy and life

My notebook
Is the place,
The book
In which
I write
We all have that one old, torn notebook that holds all of our secrets and poems.
 May 2015 Chelsea Patton
lX0st
I'm drowning in your moans
Every word that melts from your lips
Floods the room about us
Suffocating me into believing
That I would be satisfied
Spending my last moments
Staring into your eyes
Breathless
Cement never moves.
The blackened lines
eat sunlight--
from the cookie jar.

Sweet chariots--
of industrial shades
moving, moving.

Never peering at cement.
The world is a painting,
the ones who move
make their marks.

Stress-burned beings
that run across life
and burn out in agony.

To leave cement
in the skid-marked dust--
of midnight,
crying tears of joy.
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