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 Nov 2016 Clare Veronica
Marles
it's so easy for her,
when she's out alone during the day

she knows her worth,
she sees how she shines

and it's sad when they all come out,
you don't see her anymore

but I wonder;
even though she knows she's the brightest of them all

I wonder
if when the stars are out;
I wonder if the sun ever feels alone//
 Nov 2016 Clare Veronica
Marles
constellations on her skin
fire in her bones
she had always preferred solitude
but never knew how to be alone

she was free in ways you could only dream-
slave only to unyielding empathy;
she would rather not try than not be the best-
mediocrity had always been her worst enemy.

people would ask her how she was
'but how to diagnose her condition?'
how do you explain to someone far more less peculiar
that you've always been a walking contradiction?

with nothing but love in her spirit
accompanied by the sting of death in her heart,
all she knew was turning whispers into words
and so she made her complexities her art*//
And in my dreams,
you still called my name,
you still let it sting your tongue
and burned your throat,
you still smiled at me.

In my dreams,
you still tell me tales,
you still draw the stars
in my palms everytime
you hold them.

In my dreams,
I still exist to you
and you still
exist to me.

Too bad my dreams
never come true.
 Nov 2016 Clare Veronica
xoe
lunatic
 Nov 2016 Clare Veronica
xoe
I'd like to blame the moon
for all I've been feeling
for this freedom
this feminine freedom
bathed in white light

I'd like to blame the moon
for the brown in my eyes
the dirt on my feet
my mess of a hair
and a life

I'd blame her too, for my love of sunshine
rain and all that comes from nature
connection
to all beings

I'll blame the night for art
and thank her
for artists

and I'll thank myself for my liberation
my love for the goddess
the joy of nature
my own nature
my feet
the ground
my soul, at last
'Why do you write poems?'
That is the worst question you can ask me
Because there is no true answer to that question
To describe my feelings
My anger
My pain
My sorrow
My guilt
My happiness
My confusion
To paint images, in my own point of veiw
The softness  and innocence of a single rose
The jeweled coolness found in a dew hanging, off a single blade of grass
The rough edges on of single page in a book, only too be softened with the words written on it.
To create
A story
A lullaby
A memory
A moment
I write because it makes life better in so many different ways
I write to create new stories
I write to remember old ones
I write to paint, new images
I write because it helps take away my pains
I write because, I can




                                       Why do you write poems?
To All Reader:
I ask of you to give me you critiques on my poems. I want to become a better poet, and i need to know what i need to work on.
looking in the mirror
not recognizing the reflection
when this face got so old
I have no recollection

creases around the eyes
skin looking like leather
time taking it's toll
worn out by the weather

body breaking down
getting difficult to stand
arthritis is a problem
especially in my hand

hair growing in my ears
and growing out my nose
growing places it shouldn't be
even on my toes

sight a little blurry
getting difficult to see
getting up every hour
just to go ***

even though this body
will break down and age
the fire for you inside me
will continue to rage
 Aug 2016 Clare Veronica
Marles
I always tried to pull you up,
always tried to help you breathe.

but I knew you didn't really have a choice when you said you had to leave.

the problem with us;
the problem that arose with anyone I had ever chosen

was that you were another pond;
but I had always been the ocean.

(you couldn't help but drown) //
If i told you i needed help
would you listen?
Or would your silence
Echo off the walls.
See my life is like a car,
Sometimes moving fast
And other times so **** slow.
If i told you i feel hurt inside
would you not just hear
but listen
to what i said
I need someone to care.
Im tired of trying to fight alone.
Im tired of trying to survive at a table for one.
If i told you
I cry all over my body
And each tear is a knife
And they are leaving scars on my flesh,
Would you cut me a bandage,
Sop up my blood,
Or leave me to bleed out.
If i told you
I was alone and my demons are taunting me
would you get me out
Or would you keep walking
or keep scrolling...
Im not begging for attention,
But one cannot be expected to be alone and silent like a life long detention.
If i told you
I was ready to confess everything
Come clean from my secrets,
Strip myself naked so you could see my imperfections
would you care even the slightest bit
Or are you so selfish
And so ignorant
To walk on
And leave this person to die.
If i told you i was ready to die
would you blame it in cliche,
Or believe it and save me from damnation

Its time to think.
It could be up to you
This isnt just my world,
Its yours, too
and dont you want to be
somebody
To someone?
I need you.
Because all of these "if i told you's
Are becoming
**im telling you
Help people. Dont leave them alone. Provide help. Depression is very real, and it is all around us. Repost if this means something to YOU
 Aug 2016 Clare Veronica
Jay Dee
Tell me.
How do you escape from.
Whats in your mind?
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