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It was there, on that old log where she sat
under the trees cover, she talked to the moon
where she told him, I cause my own pain
as the wind quietly hummed her favorite tune.

She said,

The scars I bare are not just from the hands of others
not all are caused by the hurtful thundering rain
some are caused because I love too deeply
on that old log, she told him, I cause my own pain.

She said,

I cause my own pain, because I feel too deeply
I’ve loved when I shouldn’t have, way too much
I’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired for
just one certain, from just one…. A touch…..

She said,

To the tearing moon, I cause my own pain…….


The moon said, to Her

It was there, on that old log where you sat
while the wind hummed, your favorite song
that I touched you, ever so gently with light
to lead you in the direction, where you belong.

He said to her…

I touched you ever so gently with my light
to lead you to a heart, like you’ve never known
one, who like you has loved and felt deeply
who knows pain but also, the love you have shown.

He said to her…

Tis true you’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired for
but you’ve also given, and loved so very much
I’ve touched you, ever so gently with my light
so that you can feel, just one certain, from just one….

His touch….
She comes to him
  while he dreams
     floating down
       upon
         moonlit
            beams
to lay upon him
kisses so sweet
for she loves him
so very deep.

              With her loving
               embracing light
                  she wraps
                around him
               holding tight
                    within
                  her eyes
            he sees her love
          as the stars witness
         from the skies above.

He reaches for her
to gently place
the sweetest kiss
upon her crying face
he caresses
her body
while touching
her soul
as together they become
of one whole.

          The love they create
            so deep and true
        from the dusk of night
        til mornings first dew
when all is done and all is said
            upon his chest
         she lays her head
     hearing his heart beat
            for her alone
     a greater love
                     she's never known.
 Sep 2017
Hannah
my favorite time of the day is 4am,
or maybe it's my favorite time of the night.

whether I'm just waking up,
or just going to sleep,

the calm darkness and quiet reminds me
that right now it's only me and the moon.

I like to think that she listens.
I talk to her like company.

this is the most cozy time of night,
or maybe the easiest part of the day.

she is the only thing
that always comes back to me.
 Aug 2017
Book Thief
When was the last time
I felt a raving hunger for life?
When had I but an eternity in moments,
on the edge of something vastly different?

How was it me and not you
who staked her soul high
on rolling hills of green,
took long draughts to savour, to condense
the weight of the world into one precious drink,

cup the shortest days in her palm and release them,
for her thoughts to balloon into the wild?

The delectable now
ripe as berries for plucking in winter,
and all things, like music
must peter
into silence.

So I suppose my question to you
is not concerned with
the stack of newly-minted green in your pocket,
nor the fleet of shiny cars, but
your pure self, simply being.
It’s prodding the heart,
a tiny critter fluttering with wings, wondering:

when will you ever get a second chance at this
all this storm
and inexplicable happiness—

or will you
go hunting for things,
whirling at mere traces
of power in your name—

or will you turn around
only to find a life
or a lie,
staring back wide-eyed
in endless shame?

© BT
Thank you for having patience dear friends! This piece came painfully slowly and I'm not 100% happy with it..but I hope you enjoy! - BT x
 Aug 2017
sophia
my sheets know your secrets
my pillows, your thoughts
my blanket misses your warmth
and i,
i miss your touch
 Aug 2017
Maria Etre
I had a seance
with the night sky
the other day
and I felt my
soul exorcised
by the muses
as they quenched
my thirst
with sweet sinful
nocturnal juices
that diluted
my inhibitions
 Aug 2017
Sandoval
Him
I looked up to him, as he stood there,
right in front of me.

I felt the stars burning inside
my clenched hands.

I wanted to touch him,
with this hopeless light running

through my long thin fingers.
The moon was imprinted
in his eyes,

and I could count
every constellation of his freckled countenance.
But, I could not yield.

He was a black hole, and I was the sun.
One step closer,
and he'd take my whole life.

What do you do with a love like that?
If not love from afar.


*Sandoval
To Drew.
 Aug 2017
Hannah
There is
blood on the moon,
a message written
in deep red blues,
warning me,
beware
of you.
 Aug 2017
harlon rivers
He knew the ache could not be recompensed
they knew it too the moment echoes fell silent
There was already not enough love
in a world grown dark as darkest past

It wasn't the color of his skin nor dialect
or the  journey of a  thousand  miles
Not the place that he'd come from
       back when ―  left behind

             nor a heart of gold,  
      that never became a home

The colour of  unwritten silence
had  eclipsed  the waning  light
On the run from who he'd become;
     ashamed for all he was,  
couldn't erase a lifetime that felt a waste ―
               trying to untie a Gordian knot

He saw his body as an entombing barbwire cage
    imprisoning  a  wellspring  of  love writhing deep therein

Immured at arms length from the outside world
    where  the soul of a teardrop  abides  within
                         its insignificance

Shielding the  inherent  maelstrom
                          from the innocent passersby
Buried thoughtfully for the greater good of all ―
for the unsatiated dream boundless love betides

Written  artifacts  exhumed  like  ***** secrets
a lifetime of stigma's stain swept under the rug;
just whispered words written from an unfinished life
few ever really looked deeply between the twisted lines
arising from the soul of just another passing stranger

The long road begets a suffocating silence
choking out,           extinguished love inhumed
Ashes  of what once had been life aglow of light
               forevermore shrouded
          like the dark side of the moon



rivers
August 20, 2017
Atop the emerald earth,
a bush of crimson ablaze.
Blush of sunrise.
Bruised rouge of sunset.

Kaleidescope colors of
complex designs complete.
Ahh..but for the lingering questions.
Questions that continue with the
fresh of each day...

Rita...We call to Rita!
Our ethereal selves.
She calls, We come
Into her night of dreams
Woven within her dreams of day.
We come in Our
Saintly stance.

Rita hears.
Knows Our hearts.
And so to her,
We present ourselves.

Rita feels
the plush nuance
of Our ancient wisdom.
A melding of truths

Rita knows
She is a conduit
through which the
breath of message
and knowledge exchange.

'Sine timore'
Without timidity or fear.
Imbued deep within
her Irish blood.
Gift passed from the elders.

Yet, this Lass of yore,
stands away from the podium.
Has chosen not to grandstand,
or grasp boldness too tightly.

Goodness of power is embraced
laced with enchantment.
Able to transcend The Veil,
She walks Her path.
Our winsome
Saint of Impossible Causes.
When the moon sails out
the bells fade into stillness
and there emerge the pathways
tha tcan't be penetrated.

When the moon sails out
the water hides earth's surface,
the heart feels like an island
in the infinite silence.

Nobody eats an orange
under the moon's fullness.
It is correct to eat, then,
green and icy fruit.

When the moon sails out
with a hundred identical faces,
the coins made of silver
sob in your pocket.
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