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It was your birthday yesterday
You would have turned 19
I would have gone to your party
and we would have been drunk
girls would be kissing you
and you would be king
but we put you in the ground
two and a half years ago
-
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Redshift
ugh
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Redshift
ugh
hey so
whoever is in control
of the universe
it'd be nice
if i could stop falling in love with people

kthanx.
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Tim Knight
Desert wasteland duvet cover expanse,
light filled from the open curtain above.

Desert wasteland bedroom floor dunes,
filled with clothes from the night before.

Desert wasteland wardrobe cave,
emptied in an attempt to look good.

Desert wasteland kitchen cupboard,
void of food and healthy sustenance.

Desert wasteland cup of tea,
reminding me of home, not of my degree.

Desert wasteland life,
make a to-do list and get on with it.
facebook.com/timknightpoetry >> Like for free poetry
Hatred
Bred from
False lies
Hate in your soul
Causing
You to unhappily die
You see
Hate is not pure
And your hate
I know for sure
Your desires buried
By this loathing
I'm glad your gutless
Because it keeps you away
But still I know
It'd be better for us both
If your hatred wasn't so determined to stay.
Noooo idea
between the marrow
of your bones,

in the depth of
your shoulder blades,

beneath the ligaments
of your heavy hands,

maybe even underneath
the corneas of your seas,

you have to be in there somewhere.

the you that i used to know.
She is independent , not free
She is happy , not enjoying
She is alone , not idle
She is standing , not still
She is shattered , not broken
She is calm , not in peace
She is complete , not content
She is silent , not in silence
She is touching , not feeling
She is crying , not wet
She is drowning , not moving
She is living , not alive
She is smoking , not in smoke
She is breathing , not surviving
She is in love , not loving
She is talking , not speaking
She is looking , not watching
She is accepting , not applying
She is in motion , not 'the self'
She is she , not her
She is Amai.
She is Amai , not am I ?
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Mark C
Up in the attic
Under the bed
Inside the closet
In the boxes in our head

All the things that we were doing
To try to hide ourselves away

Old yellow pictures
Yesterday's news
Seeking catharsis
In a twelve-bar blues

All the things that we were doing
To try to hide ourselves away
To hide ourselves away

Mummy will be angry
And Daddy will be drunk
"Be careful where you're going boy
Or you'll end up like your Uncle
As the black sheep of the family"
But Daddy - the black sheep ran away

Over the hill to freedom
He lived to fight another day

All the things that live to haunt us
All the needles in our heart
The shadows on the bedroom wall
The things that make us start
Out of our nightmares
Cold and frightened
In the dark

Go to church on Sunday
Say prayers for the dead
Confess your sins to Jesus
(Though he knows them all already)

Oh for Jesus is your saviour
He will wash your sins away
Jesus is your saviour
He thinks about you every day



But prayers remain unanswered
And Daddy still gets drunk
And I remember Mummy
Stealing candles from the church

All the lies our parents told us
To try to keep us in our place
To try to save their face?

And I think of all the baggage
That we carry through our lives
I think of all the times
I've had to run away and hide

Sometimes I find myself believing
I'll be running all my life
So angel hold me tightly
And say that it will be all right...
A very old one. Haven't felt this way for a very long time.
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