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 Aug 2015 shadow girl
Rj
You have to be strong
You have to pretend it doesn't hurt
You have to pretend it doesn't bother you
Sometimes, you haunt my dreams
I wake up, barely able to breathe
Maybe that's why I find it so hard to sleep
I can't help but keep the door locked
It's like I'm being mocked
Your shadow is stalking my routine
Every daily thing holds some bad memory
I really just wish you'd die in that cell
After everything you did to me
You deserve to go to Hell
she looked at her reflection in the mirror
as a single tear escaped her eyes
she choked on words she could never say
and wondered if their words were really lies
she had been promised the world
yet here she stood afraid and alone
she stared at her scars and recent cuts
and she knew she would never belong
she would never be enough for anyone
thats what the voices in her head seemed to say
she wasn't even worth the air she breathed
she wasted away more and more each day
scars where either a comfort or a reminder to the pain
she liked them more at the darkest of night
but in the light of the day the others saw
and wondered why she was never alright
why her whole body shook when men were around
why those memories were never erased
why her lips quivered when she was addressed
why she never spoke out of place
she cuts to feel and feel and feel
but there is nothing to erase that ache
so she feels the pain day and night
so that her fragile heart won't break
 Aug 2015 shadow girl
Poetic T
The first leaf born from the forests seeding. Birthing
What flourished, grew here today. Each woodland had
A keeper, a life born from seed to the fruit of souls.

Animals nourished this new born, language of each
Taught, spoken winds told her of what happened
Near and far the woodland was a majestic place.

Upon a staff the first leaf flourished free floating
Energies of the forest flowed, emanated from its aura.
The winds spoke and she listened staff  held in hand.

A light birthed from the sky had found ground and
Trees set ablaze in it anger, their cries heard felt, pain
As life was slowly turned to lifeless ash, she cried.

As her staff called upon elements, ground, water, air.
Each apart to platy as the stream did rise upon the
Banks water did touch her feet and the staff came down.

The vines did drop entwined in circular stance and water
Fed and rained out, quenching diluting flames anger.
The pain felt as smouldering now floating ash.

Her hand felt the orchard of blackened bark, some lost.
But in time new life would flourish where it fell, consumed
To ash before. A seed she settled where new birth given form.

She bowed to the forest for it guidance. A droplet feel from
The first leaf, a tear of sorrow for what was lost, nourishing,
Healing those not fallen bark did scar, reminders of before.

She walks among the trees, the winds talk too her, she laughs
Sometimes a joke maybe wind is funny that way, the cycle
Continues she is the guardian of first leaf, and then she walks.
 Aug 2015 shadow girl
Kenshō
Watch them
Searching amongst a trifling heap!
Bear your watch ~
And gear your gaze,
Realize this dangerous maze.
-
Through the brush,
Along the hills,
Stands a little shack..

An outcast with a knack~

No one could understand this very odd man.
Yet even to reach him on foot or on yak
It would mean you must
Lead away and carve your very own tracks.

Where to go, following the road no one goes?
What to see or to learn, exploring what no one knows?
Speak! unique star of the universe,
Tell your stories of the beautiful adventure,
That only you chose..

You could dance or stand still,
Sit on solid ground or climb a sand hill!

Talk in verse
Or reverse your curse and present your prose
Into a rhythm only you really knowss
        Look, let me stop..
..
                                      ..

I admit, I'm just an ordinary man.
*UPDATE*
~Thanks for everyone's kind comments~
I didn't intend on joining
Neighbourhood Watch
When I stepped onto my perch,
The elevated porch.
I spied a lad
Trying a car door
In the drive
Next to the cop's.
That's forbidden fruit
In the dark of night,
Under the slight light
Of a quarter moon.
Had I called the cops,
Would he now be homeless
By an ignominous,
Effaced father.
His pride's a tailored fit
From rejected rags.
Friends may post the antics
In glossolalia on FB
For all nations to read
The mark against him.
I didn't call.
The sin of the father
Is exposed in the sun;
Not in alleyways
Under broken street lights
Where a rejected son
Devises a defense;
Thinking no one sees him;
Thought he was alone.
I yelled to him, go home.
Go home, very few can.
Which came first, rejection or pride?
Bad news is:

You cannot make people like, love, understand, validate, accept or be nice to you. You can't control them either.


Good news is:

It doesn't matter.
be kind to yourself
When the light shines bright
Yet we do not see a shadow
Absorbed by the soul
Kindles the inner consciousness
Lights up the world within
No more hurdles in sight
Path swathed in clarity
Emit the afterglow
Show everyone the light
To fight the darkness
There are no shadows
When every cell is illuminated
You are a poem
Comparing your white skin to paper
Blue veins to blue lines
your story written on you
like the ink on this paper
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