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  Jan 2016 CJ Forest
Brider Olen
I was the world's
biggest contradiction

and
I danced back and forth
between the lines
so much
that when I finally decided
it was time to be myself

I couldn't remember
who that was anymore
.
CJ Forest Jan 2016
There'll be a man at the window,
Looking out at the moon and the stars,
And the millions of memories that come to mind.
When the big problems are little
And the little wrinkles are big,
What will he think?
When we stop caring about essays and the future,
And start caring about wills and the past.
When he sees my face, will he remember butterflies,
Or the bitter taste of sadness?
When the bruises and tear stains have gone
And we have forgotten who we were,
All the little stories, gone in the wind.
Will you be proud of who you are?
Did I ever bottle the stars for you?
Will he think of all the secrets I told,
Or the ones I never revealed?
There's so many questions,
But lots of time.
The thought of the man at the window,
Who looks at photos he couldn't stand when he was young
And now smiles,
Who loves every flaw he used to hate,
And has lived the life he was scared to live,
He doesn't scare me,
Nor the void after.
Because the woman at the other window,
Will be proud that he's stood there at all.
  Jan 2016 CJ Forest
Issa
The sky saw the sea
The sea saw the sky
They looked at each other
Together.

The sky observed the sea
The sea observed the sky
They thought each other
Interesting.

The sky indulged in the sea's grace
The sea basked in the sky's elegance
Their thoughts scattered
Like the birds in the air and the fish in the water.

The sky longed for the sea
The sea longed for the sky
They wept
For each other.

The sky swallowed the sea
The sea swallowed the sky
Finally, they were
Together.
The first four lines was from what I wrote when I was very young and I decided to recreate them.
CJ Forest Jan 2016
It's not very often that you find
Someone who's eyes
Look like the universe, but just to you
And you spend your time
Being amazed by the warmth that flows
Around you and everything they touch
And suddenly
Everything is beautiful
Everything is okay
And you see them and it clicks
You can finally breathe again, like you haven't in years
And the bad stuff goes away
Just for a while
Just for them
And everything is beautiful at last
CJ Forest Jan 2016
If you were gone,
I'd feel the pieces fall apart again,
Feel the flames between the shards.
We'd all feel it,
As your cold body is buried in cold dirt,
Warm tears falling as we think
Of your warm smile that we'll never see again.
Over time the flames will fade,
But we'll never be whole again.
The cracks would show
When the weather gets cold
And you're not there to blow out the candles,
Or we see a flower crown or a plaid shirt,
Or hear a beautiful accent like yours.
We'd all fall apart together,
A pile of smashed glass
Because the thing that held us together
Fell apart itself.
And we'd never hear those six letters
Without a bitter taste in our mouths, lumps in our throats,
And endless tears in our eyes,
If you were gone.
Please say you'll never leave me.
  Jan 2016 CJ Forest
sol
For the longest time,
I thought that people
with brown eyes were't
as interesting as those
without. But, you see,
the reason those eyes are
so dark is because
they've seen too many
things, and they know too
much. Brown eyes are
the see all and know all.
They never miss a thing.
You can't keep a secret
from their depths.
Do not be fooled by the
murkiness of the waters.
For the lake they contain
is deeper than it seems.
it's late and i'm thinking
CJ Forest Jan 2016
I don't think about the number eighteen much,
but the one numbered eighteen fills my mind.
Eighteen years, fourteen letters, five days.
I never got numbers, but your numbers have got me
trapped in a whirlwind of old stories and little facts.
I think about how many kisses, lovers, fights, quiet conversations you've had.
I'm trapped in a flurry of numbers.
I'm happy there,
but you're more interested in the colours of someone else,
her eyes, her lips, her skin.
I'm trapped in a flurry of numbers,
and you're running free in a spectrum of colours.

— The End —