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 Jun 2014 Christina DeBart
nate k
d y i n g
seems like
the greatest
perhaps, the
eventual epitome
of the finest
taste of ecstacy,
if you'd be
allocated
this slice
of heaven
with
m e
05.Jan.13. 23:39.
(c) nate k. 2013
i sleep
i get perfectly enough sleep
i'm not lacking
but i'm tired
i have no energy
i just want to sleep
for a little while longer
until my bones
no longer conform
and i cant
wake anymore
 Oct 2013 Christina DeBart
E
Tell me lord, is it
  such a sin to
despise the skin
I'm living
in?
My hearts been broken,  
It never hurt this much.
Every breath, every step,
Every moment causes pain.
The world feels fuzzy,
Under this unending haze.
Asleep, awake, it changes nothing,
I wonder if I am still sane.

Someone, somewhere, show mercy,
I am on my knees begging please.
No way, nowhere, never foresaw,
That our ending would start.
I fear that I did this somehow,
The thought is too much to bare.
I miss smiling, I miss happiness,
I miss you, I miss my heart.
Danny Boy, I just want to forget.
 Oct 2013 Christina DeBart
jar
a few months ago,
you asked me: "What is love?"
As you can see,
it had taken me a long time to understand the question myself,
but I think I've finally come up with an answer.
Unfortunately,
the English language
has only one word to describe something that has limitless interpretations.
In Greek,
there are three words for the three basic types of love.
Eros;
lust.
This type of love
is when you find yourself doodling their name
on the inside of your history textbook,
dotting the I's with hearts
as if you are 13 again and you were just asked on your first date.
You chose that textbook
because it will be the only place no one would ever think to look.
You think about everything you would be far too shy to say or act in person,
making out in the back of a movie theatre
not caring who would walk past,
sneaking off away from your friends just to have two measly moments of what you both call "peace."
Most often,
this type of love is encased in "I love you"
only to obtain a certain goal.
Virginty,
a picture,
or even just one more night
of having them in your arms.
Eros is not authentic,
it is emphemeral.
Phileo;
Brotherly Love.
The friend you would drop anything for in a heartbeat to make sure of their wellbeing,
but also the neighbor you see from time to time watering their garden.
They ask you
to tend to their garden while they are away,
and you do it
even though you've never spoken more than a paragraph to the man
because it is what you believe is right.
This type of love is the devotion of time and energy without any promise of compensation in return,
purely out of the good of heart.
Phileo lasts as long as the people do.
The final type of love
is Agape;
unconditional love.
In religion,
we are guided
or pushed
towards showing this type of love towards the diety.
Yet, very rarely
it is shown towards a human being.
Unconditional love
is the ability to say so much with only uttering a single word.
I have experienced this love,
it is great pain
and great sadness
but the feelings of pain will never leave my lips
in case they are transferred to the person i wish to have the least pain.
This kind of love
is when it is not only enough that you think about them every waking moment but every slumber-filled one as well. You have hung up your needs at the front door along with the key to your heart and devoted yourself entirely to them,
even if they don't reciprocate.
They have been adopted by your body and taken the form of a vital *****.
If you do not
pay absolute attention
to them at all times
you will run into many problems.
You need to keep them running smoothly in order to stay alive and healthy,
because without them you are nothing.
You are a sorry sack of bones with a beating heart with no purpose.
Unconditional love is taking all the lessons you have ever learned
all the rights and wrongs you have finally learned the difference between and throwing them out the window.
It is the thin line between sanity and insanity,
heaven and hell,
and safety and danger.
You walk the rope
from building to building
without the promise of a net.
Unconditional love
is authentic,
but not emphemeral.
((Love *****, don't do it.))
She walks through the hallway,
holding her wrists.
Hoping and Praying,
no one will see her like this.
He looks at her,
scared of what he will find.
He never thought,
she had those things in mind.
Or just how much she held inside.
She was always smiling,
what could she hide?
As she looks up at him,
he asks her; "...are there anymore?"
Looking at him with tears in her eyes.
She whispers a small reply,
"Ever wonder what bracelets are for?"
Taking it all in he asks her "Why?"
With tear streaked cheeks she whispers,
"I don't want to die."
For this is what her lover learned;
she cuts herself...
Never too deep, and never enough to die.
But just enough to feel the pain,
to release what she has bottled up inside.
i wrote “i love you”

in the fog on the bathroom mirror

after washing you off my skin

and stood there staring

as the words disappeared slowly

running like tears down your cheeks

running like we were running

out of love

out of time

ending up dripping down the drain

of the sink

under the bathroom mirror

you slid off me

as easily as fog slides off a mirror
Poetry, spilled ink, creative writing, free verse,
I'm in love
and I'm scared
I'm in love
and I don't know what to do
I'm in love
and the confusion is killing me
I'm in love
I'm in love
I'm in love
****
I'm in love
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