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 Aug 10
Jim Davis
Crushed love leaves a fading scent
Much like crushed roses

©  2019 Jim Davis
Such is the sweet aroma of sorrow!
 May 31
Realeboga M
Imagine to my surprise when I say.
"You're my soul mate"
"You're my sole date"
"Yet we can't be because of fate"

Imagine to my dismay when he told me.
"She doesn't love right"
"She does't believe in it and so she fights all these emotions with all her might"

Imagine to my chest when,
It heaves
When each breath comes with a tug of pain.
And each beat with a realisation that we cannot be.

I cry.
I scream to the top of my lungs because I know what I want.
"Why doesn't she want me back?"
My soul keeps asking and my spirits keep shaking.
Nodding it's head no!
It doesn't make sense.
Why is the universe so over the fence about us?

Imagine to my soul the pain.
The emotional heart strain.
Truly can I not find and accept love in you?

You're my soul mate.
My one true fate.
So why can I not get closer?
Why must you be so far and so cold to me.

In this epiphany I see no us but I feel all of us.
It shouldn't be like this! If I don't get you at the end of the day.
If our souls cannot merge and become one.
Why must my soul convulse  and be torn from limb to limb.

Imagine my sheer disappointment
When knowing my one true cannot be my only true.

Panda this goes out to you.

I am accepting that the universe has linked us to be two of the same but not enough to be one.
It just affects me mentally knowing that what should be my other half is half of someone that I once was and cannot wholly be forever.

It affects me to notice how we synchronise yet we end up breaking apart.
The complexity behind what we had mistaken for simplicity.
Isn't there just a way for us to restart?

To meet in an alternation whereby our souls remain the same yet allow for the two of us to become one?
A universe that allows this to not end in such a dull dark way?

Can't I get a proper ending with you?
You're the soul mate that could be a star crossed lover.
Yet why haven't and why can I not fully experience us?
 Mar 22
Realeboga M
Normally all they expect from me is strength. They expect the bravest face with the brightest smile.
But 2019 has been throwing more than just hurdles my way.
2019 has been creating more than a disruption to me.

2019 started out with the biggest amount of hope, finally I was going to face most of my dreams and definitely at long last make sure that I complete them.

But when it came, I got a stab to the heart, losing the one person who I thought would get to see my empire rise.
And I understand that relationships end, I get that we need to let go of toxic behaviors but when she walked away. Everyone that held a special significant place in my heart walked out.

I became overwhelmed with pain to the extent that I became toxic.
I tried to run to someone who I thought would stay there but they just couldn't bear to watch me so fragile and bare, they walked out. Making sure that the remaining components of my heart turned to dust.

My environment grew dark, People started fighting for some form of job security and I took it in me to carry their pain while worrying for myself. I survived, they didn't so while relieve was evident in my face their pain was eating at my soul.

I had other hopes, It'll work out somehow.
But the deeper into the months we get the more drained I get.

I am not okay
2019 is taking a huge toll on me.
 Mar 5
Johnny walker
The clocks stopped ticking
the day she went away
no longer did I have awareness of time
when the clock
The clock stopped ticking for me the day I laid a single red rose on her grave that was the
the clock
The clock has stopped ticking for me no longer
do care about time
don't know
date or the
don't even know the month we're In, for the clock has stopped ticking for the last for me the day
I left a single red rose on
a rose that
The clock stopped ticking for me the day I laid a single red does on Helen's grave
 Jan 6
Realeboga M
Bear with me for a few minutes or throughout majority of the poem.
There’s some writers block with me.
Yet there’s a need deeper than my subconscious to write about you. A wholesome want that needs not be subliminal.

Each word, each syllable drips baring truth.
No seduction, no romance or any other double entendre.
It’s just a need to write, not for you but to write and it happens that you are the subject.

Growth comes with its formality.
Change opens our eyes to reality.
And the whole process either makes or breaks our mentality.
Not really sure whether you’re afloat or being pulled down by gravity.
That’s just the whole nature of being an entity.

Empty, sometimes growth leads to that.
Hollow, a formidable pit that keeps getting deeper.
It drags you but then again what can be done?
You’re just a life seeker.
Trying to get more, to feel more just without the ruckus of pain.

A turmoil,
You roll and roll and spin and wonder why am I moving so much, so fast?
It’s a process.
Never mind feeling confusion.
It’s just an illusion.
Or a way of getting your mind to really look at things.

I hope I didn’t lose you.
Because often in search of truth we get lost.
And no I am no truth but I’ll bring you honesty.

Consequences. No more, no less than the word guilt. We live in it, sometimes take pleasure in it. But primarily grow because that is it’s end game. Growth.

Self awareness.
Look in the mirror and appreciate, not what is outside or inside but what is you. Because growth is that, appreciation of self.

Incomplete. A feeling so deafening, so loud and corrupt. A feeling that can just be so abrupt to your conscious.
And so for that be cautious.

The mind requires freedom and love. Love from yourself and freedom from your negative self.
Only then can you truly feel growth.
And only then can you see yourself past the pain and tribulations.

This poem is not done, but it is complete.
Happy 2019!
Quiet whispers of dawn
Springs softly upon the fawn of  your rested brow
My eyes gaze with fondest affection.
Drawing me inwards
to perfection
With deepest regret
The final curtain has been drawn
Am left with a brief sense of emptyness
My whole life is shattered, the last kiss. upon your lips
will ever be our last.
 Nov 2018
My writing does not hit
As hard as it once did
The bullets I shoot from my mouth
They are not nearly as precise
Is it possible
I’m losing my
Ability to
 Nov 2018
Oh, when the pain comes rolling back in.
Like the red tide.

It kills.
Wow, the past few days/week have been bad.
 Oct 2018
Cecil Miller
I've been on the edge of my seat
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

Where is love and raising hell;
Spitting fire in a cheap motel;
Angry friction in the eyes
Of desire, and fearless rides
On wheels of fury in the night
That burn the roads and holds me tight?

Cover me with intoxication
Like a sheath of skin over blade.

Where is greed and desperation,
And running from them to each other?
I remember when the living was real,
And the passion was always a thrill,
Anchored in the pounding hearts
That were bound to top the charts.

Blowing wilder than the wind,
I'm never going home again.

I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

Is love born out of some kind of need?
Is the feeling still somewhere in me?
I need to be a bullet fired
Entangled in what has transpired,
And wispered like a scream on fire.
Climbing night time rage and wire,
Two for one and sacred pyer.
Acid venom and supplier.

Running like a theif in the night
Hiding in the briar from the light.

I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

...And it's fast.

...And it's strong.

...And it's done.

...And it's gone.
I wrote this just this early morning and in one sitting. One question, When I shared it to my facebook account, the word "hell" was automatically redacted - why? Fix it. I edit and censor myself enough as it is.
There is a variation of two cadences in this one that don't always fall into a sequencial format. As my writing style is kind of free-flowing; musical and organic, it just turns out that way.
I haven't set it to music exactly, but as I hear it in my head, it is definately going to be a song.
I'm into bad ones.
 Aug 2018
Cecil Miller
I was taken a-back
By a memory
Of a sweet, sweet face
From long ago.

I can't find that place
Within me.
I wonder where and when
Did it go.

Dallas ain't the place
That I want to be,
But New Orleans ain't the same,
As before.

My heart doth break
For my one true love,
But I can't love
I started writing a new song with my guitar tonight. Making music is fun.

I'm going to call this one "I Can't Love Anymore." This is is only one verse. I'm dropping it here to keep track, cause the internet never forgets.

Northwest Louisiana, let's start a band.
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