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The inner pounding in my chest has stopped.
My heart is broken.
regret and self pity fill me with vile sensations.
I want only to cease the pain it continues to bring me in the darkest hour of night.
When I am alone with my thoughts.
A pain that was once joy throbbing inside of me.
Now a pain that kills me slowly with each pump of blood.
My heart a tool of my very own self destruction.
I must destroy it.
Yet I continue to live with it
A daily reminder that I must not end.
A daily reminder that you're slowly killing me.
Inside and out.
My dreams are torturous
No wait- my dreams are wonderful
Waking from them is torturous
Because you're in my dreams
And not in my reality.

The only sense of you that I have
That you even still exist
Is all virtual, digital
I need to see you, hear your voice
I miss you like crazy.

I feel like we could be great together
I know we have that potential
But we have to stick that potential
Under a rock
And forget about it for a year.

But remember that rock?
That we hid our potential under?
I can't stop thinking about it
Imagining what it will be like
Once we can take it out.

Love stories remind me of you
They make me think
"That could be us."
They give me hope for us
That we could actually work.

Sometimes I get scared
I'm afraid you'll meet someone else
You'll be so happy with her
You won't even remember me
Except as a summer fling.

But I try not to think about that
I just focus on how amazing
Everything about this summer has been
And hope that the universe
Will take care of the rest.

I love your smile
I love your heart
I love the way you think
I love... Everything about you
But I don't love you, yet.
2010
She's more beautiful
then critics give her credit for-

She bends at the spine,
pushing forward,
building tension
with those who observe her.

Her heart,
empty pages-
empty space,
room for words still unwritten-
yet seemingly full in the right place,
The beginning.

Her skin
folds beautifully
around the verses of her body,
Leaving you wanting more.

You'll be captivated by words
while falling forward
in hopes of a ******
that will help to create the perfect end.

She's a book,
well written,
Even Heming
would have his way
between the crevice of her words.

She's a book,
gentle to hold
while holding it together,

She's a book,
A novel,
A number one best seller-
Hanging onto every adjective you give her.

Hold her,
Read her,
Love her,
And don't you dare
put her down till you're finished.
Sigh.
This is hard.


My eyes are getting heavier with each passing day and the boy I see in the mirror
looks almost like a man.
Almost.

I am thankful for all the unkind words.
They made me strong and they made me carefree.
But when the lights go off and piano notes dance around my room the sheets feel lonely and my room feels cold.
When I close my eyes, my fingers are running along your cheek and my lips are brushing your nose.
You're not here.
I don't even know...

who
you
are.
But I hear myself whisper your name.

I know that somewhere in the universe, pieces of our souls flown through lonely tears and childhood wishes are are dancing with one another in the rain.
...kissing after dinner...
..making love after a fight...

I am so madly in love with you and I have no idea who you are.
Whether you even exist at all yet or whether I pass you every day.

I make no promise that I will caress your skin.
I make no promise that I will hear you laugh.
I make no promise that I will ever find you.


But I promise to always keep looking,
so keep your eyes open too...



With all my love whoever you are,

Joshua Haynes
One is  forced to wonder
What life would be like
If darkness was eternal
And we lived in endless night
Would love prosper?
Or would hate take command?
Would art flourish?
Or violence reign supreme?
One is forced to wonder about these things
When there is a darkness inside of them
 Feb 2013 Claire Trafton
dk
I can't imagine how hard it would be,
To hold the heart of a poet.
I can only imagine the words that I'd read
Would start with a passion un-stoic.

Dreaming delights and sweet spring days,
Starry summer nights and skies without grey,
Words that whisper warmth and want,
That'd speak of love so nonchalant.

Then slowly or suddenly things would stop.
Maybe then a poem.  A rain drop.
Then another, and another, and another.
A secret tempest witthin my lover.
The lightning, the thunder, I'd feel it but never see
The full extent of the storm she was writing.

Then, at last, through the dark depths of night
She might spot herself a little candle light,
And dream that it was a sweet spring day.
And that's all it'd take to whisk her away...

I can only imagine the words that she'd write
As she pull away and head toward the light.
I can't imagine how hard it would be,
To watch as my poet walked away from me.
Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.
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