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Who ?
Who was I to you
Before You were you to “me “
Before- I lost who you were in translation
In between languages-  I can’t speak
Who muffled words of wisdom
On how to save myself
Yet, what good is anyone’s help
If I can’t  remember who I am

I own all right to my writing
Sit down darling, it's mourning
The moment we decide
if what we have
Is dead or still alive

The moment the questions rein in
My pen and paper
Don't have enough ink
To feel the lust of emotions
To the thoughts of
You and him again

Sit down , darling relax
No need to make excuses
Come up with reasons
Why this possibility
Is still a reoccurring event
Not that it would matter
You and me

Just a test

Sit down darling, and ***
60 seconds
Feels like an hour waiting on
Moments of disbelief
To apologize or not
Doesn't change that something happened
Doesn't change a kiss
Doesn't change laying up
With him and you

Sit down darling, it's 30 seconds left
Your eyes vs mines
To walk away and leave
Or would it hurt more
to ignore hurt
stay through honesty ?
Like before nothing is obsolete
When things are inevitable
Chemistry and long-ago love

Sit down darling, a few seconds more

Omission and truth

Where u decide to take things to yo grave
Or be honest with your long-term partner

Sit down darling, the results are in

Just another test
On how far ur love goes or ends

PS.Cunningham(A.C.E) the spellings of some of the words u might think should be different like mourning vs morning etc. I chose mourning etc.  these are feelings within feelings
I know its hard at times for u
To understand me
Less words just become
Basic non verbal communication

Im use to blue lines
And 1 red
3 holes for some half mooned
Clips to fill
Followed with a white canvas
My binder paper strays

The pen bleeds out its ink
Like taking in a stray
I so much hidden
So many words
Alot of me to show and say

But thats just paper
Thats just how my heart breathes
For the pen to paper
Is how i listein
And how i see

But this way of communication
Isnt fitting
For ur needs
So we sit through text
Never really speaking of the things
We seek to appeal

Just words yhat are wordless
To pass by our time
How long does nothing last
When u plan to spend a lifetime
Random thinking of pens
-cunningham owns
so annoyed , bothered , like a soldier formally being deployed ,
minded , stuck in a moment , where spending hours and minutes, don't fit the time we have left to spend , wounded, hurt, harmed and battered thinking if I came at this life a little different , I would have achieved better tactics , I mean, I've been here before, starring ,standing in front of this door, just a different address, postal box ,zip code , though its been here, been here like tears , fears , days where I've dreaded the service men , coming to tell me my love didn't  make it, fake it , fake what , in this case let go of , lose grip , i have lost; my heartbeat, now heartache and regained pain where this soldier once lived , yet I've never managed to let go of memories, from the time we once lived in.
poem belongs to Patricia S. Cunningham I have all rights to this poem.

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