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Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.
For Ty & Des ❤️
Touch me,
it doesn't matter where
and it doesnt matter how
I need to know I'm still alive
so someone touch me now
Shake my hand and say hello
or pat me on the back
kiss me on the cheek
that I may feel this sense I lack
slap my face and pull my hair
make me bleed I just don't care
dig your nails into my skin
so I can feed this need within
I've been numb for such a time
that even pain would be sublime
so touch me, touch me now
I don't care where, I don't care how
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
( Sonnet )*

Under the primrose stars, the lovers
Lie abed, on green, threadbare croft
Of sleeping daisy, clover and moss,
Trails with hushed air, an embroidery
So fine as to stitch blushing heart fall
And wrap the waters full of quietude
In graces, winding, soft, granulating
Time, wings flutter and hum, winsome
Sparks, fire white, flying as little suns
Burst confetti, in sweet encampment,
Of grass and sapling wood, innocents,
Charmed are wholly twining, in moon
Rise a lantern to the winking heavens,
Out of their skins they are climbing.
Re: a poem of mine, finally being chosen as 'The Daily Poem' ( it only took over five years )

First, I'd like to thank all the fine writers and readers on HP for your lovely comments and support.

Secondly,
As an earnest and hopeful poet, who has been here, posting poems nearly since the beginning of 'Hello Poetry'
I'd like to thank the HP - daily poet - algorithm for finally choosing one of the hundreds of poems I've listed here.
Perhaps the ghost in the machine has a heart after all?
.
 May 2017 Christine
JL Smith
You're like a
Bad habit,
A fever I can't break

Like a
Natural disaster,
Devastating earthquake

You're
Yesterday's promise
Today's heartache

And I expect you
To give,
But all you do is take

© JL Smith
i fell asleep in dawn's arms,
the horizon on its way.
i gathered my shattered pieces
and hid them under my black dress
while he asked
whose funeral i was attending.
mine, i said.
i kissed the violet pillows goodbye
and saw the worry in its smile.
i turned around and met with
a thousand cameras held at knee-level,
taking a million pictures of me
and thinking i wouldn't notice.
i ripped through his desert of laughter
to reach her ocean of tears.
she was all city lights and donut socks
and carefree yet caring and i
felt
felt
felt
her arms around my waist for the last time.
we posed for the camera and ripped
his guitar strings from his vertebrae,
but the dissonance of our amusement
and his offense
scared her.
the waves were flooding the shore of her irises
with the burning sun in sight.
i felt her teeth sink into my shoulder blades
as she cried out about the static noise
coming from the tv
and begged the sky to turn it off.
she screamed desperation into my hippocampus
as i sang every galaxy into her wrist,
but when i looked into her eyes
i saw nothing
but satisfied demons and molten lava.
i woke up on the edge of the moon
and cried
because i couldn't save her.
based on a vivid nightmare.
05.20.17
 May 2017 Christine
Alyssa Lynn
Sometimes the best things
Come from nowhere at all,
Rushing in like a summer wind,
Then gone a moment more.

Opportunities strike then fade into the darkness,
Life ever flowing,
Ebbing and changing, never staying the same.

After all, it wouldn't be interesting
If everything stayed the same.
A good chance came up. Glad I took it.
5.20.2017
Know yourself,
not just the bad,
know your limits,
forget the trauma
you once
had.
Feel your hands touch
your face,
be grateful for your
individual look.
Quit eyeing everyone
around you,
sit down with a
reading book.
Jealousy is a force,
nerves are
automatic.
Anger is unacceptable
and hostility is
dramatic.
Mean spirited behavior is
wrong,
so turn it into a play, book, movie,
or song,
and we can all join along,
and feel your pain.
Sometimes witnessing
is how you win
the game.

— The End —