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Chloe Aug 2018
the first was in a dream
a ride in the clouds
then a slow circling waltz
and when we met in the centre I
kissed you.

the second was gradual
when the pink summer haze gave way
to a cold winter
and yet the warmth lingered
between our tangled fingers.

the third was a firework
when I saw you across the cafeteria
and the way you smiled
was as sweet as
the coffee that I left with.

i wonder what the fourth will be
and I know that it will come
but yet I can't help but wonder
if one day this warmth will

I haven't written in a while but this wanted to be penned. I don't usually write about romance but this is about all the girls I've ever loved or crushed on. Maybe that's enough to excuse me just this once
Chloe Mar 2018
what a strange sight to see,
sunlight streaming through windows;
the gentle touch of fiery radiance,
falling on silver pillars and plastic handles
draping over broken plastic seats
with the same ceremony and caress
inside a bus as it would in a chapel  

on this quiet journey homeward,
I have found peace
apologies for not being active lately, I started a full time job after school ended that's been really tiring. the inspiration for this poem came to me on the bus ride home, watching the world go by.
Chloe Feb 2018
I love myself
in a world that longs for perfection.
And perfection is defined by
slender figures on shining billboards,
perfect scores on standard tests,
and a heart of gold in a heartless world.

I love myself
in this race we run against each other,
trying to be the first and the best.
Where only a few ever come close,
and many never do.
After all, we were born imperfect.

I love myself
so I won't let myself fall behind.
To subject myself to scorn and judgement,
and disappointment and anxiety,
when my efforts are too little and too small.
"Do whatever it takes to achieve your goals."

I love myself,
I promise, bent over porcelain sinks
with my hair tied back and ******* down my throat.
Because of a number on a scale,
the nausea that builds and the memories of
cloth draped over foggy mirrors.

I love myself,
I promise, as the hours tick by late into the night,
and I study until exhaustion takes my attention.
Because of a number on a paper,
the knowledge of failure and that
I will never amount to much in this world.

I love myself,
I promise, as the penknife hovers over unbroken skin,
and when the rush of traffic seems welcoming.
Because I am tired,
I am tired of imperfection, of
being unable to give myself what I want.

But eventually,
I swallow back my bile,
I pull away the cloth,
I hide the penknife in a drawer,
I step away from the traffic.

Because I love myself too much.
Societal pressures can be overwhelming, and even though we know they're wrong, we're tempted to turn to easier methods to cope.

All I can say is, whatever youre going through, you're not alone. Don't be afraid to reach out to anyone if you need a listening ear. Compassion is one of our better traits as humans.

That being said, it definitely isn't easy. Stay brave, stay strong.
  Feb 2018 Chloe
Mary Gay Kearns
We are walking with our long strides
Keeping time to the day
Finding hands beating music
As our feet skip away
And my knees take the floorway
Turn to you and say
It is now forever
That my loves here to stay
Then we join in the hoping
Fill the hallway with light
We are travelling in moonlight
For an everlasting night.

Love Mary x
For my Roger , love Mary .Trips to the Harlequin.
Chloe Feb 2018
there is a road on the ocean
and it goes on further than I can see
a thin strip of pale wood
that cuts the waters in half

i stand upon this endless road
in the middle of an endless ocean

from the moment i saw it's beginnings
stretching out from the sandy shore
i stepped upon its pale worn planks -
there was no hesitation.

                                                              i watched the land grow smaller
                                                                               and stood surrounded
                                                                                by the great grey blue;

                                                                                            blue above and
                                                                                                    blue below
                                                                and a handful of blinking stars.

                                                                                   overhead and under
                                                                          the cloudy waves shifted;
                                                     a gentle kiss of foam upon my ankles.

i sit upon the path of no end
and i will wonder;

i've walked miles upon this road
but i can't go up
or under.

who is to say that there is an end
or a purpose in its presence?
how much longer will my legs carry me-
will I ever find my answer?

my heart sinks into a sea of stars
my mind is lost in the clouds,
but my feet, my feet will always tread
on this wooden road built of the earth.

there is a road
on the surface of the ocean
and that's as far as i can go.
you set out on a path, excited to see where you will go. you're so sure that this is the road you're meant to follow, and that as long as you walk it's path you'll find your desired end. and yet eventually, along the way you realise that there's so much more than mindlessly chasing the promise of a dream.

but you've travelled so far, is it worth it to turn back?
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