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The heart where once
love resided fell too cold.

Now the flesh turns
an uneasy grey beneath
a thin layer of dusty frost.

When touched,
the fingertips stick and the cold bites.
Few dared to warm
the space with their hands
and now neglect has my heart forgot.

There's an uncared for path.
An overrun piece of forest
nearly hidden in the brush
that leads to a cave.

There's a cool breeze
that staves away my curiosity.
A comment of yours turned into a poem. So lyrical and so true.
The evergreen edges of the newly cut
box hedge border look greener now
with its cleaner lines and stronger bark-spines;
the train's in an hour so pack up and go,
leave Christmas where it is,
leave Christmas at home.

Un-sent Christmas lists sit in the flue still,
they never got delivered and never got through,
houses stand with their lights on up the hill,
they blink and sparkle and blaze and gaze at the night
with competition, cheap goodwill.
from a very Christmassy, coffeeshoppoems.com
I stare at the clock
waiting for the glowing numbers to change.
I groan,
wondering why I'm awake.
But I know
that my mind has latched onto you.
Thinking of everything.
The look in your eyes when you say something meaningful.
The way they light up around kids
and when you talk of
your passions.
The way they focus when you stare off.
The way you smile.
How your lips turn up into a smirk.
The way your deep voice rumbles in your throat,
migrating from your chest.
The way you laugh.
The way you stretch out.
The way you walk,
hips swaying,
shoulders sagged,
as you glide around on the ***** of your feet.
The way I see a glimpse of heaven in your eyes,
I wonder why you're awake
at 2:19am.
But I remain silent
like the night surrounding our beds.
I want to ask you why you are awake on a night where you should be asleep
in your bed.
But that would lead you
to ask me
why I am awake at 2:19am on a night that I should be asleep.
And I wouldn't be able to tell you
that I am awake at 2:19am
thinking about you.
as late as it gets,
this would make the
fifth or fiftieth orbit in the cycle
a closer pattern; you know
i can't help but
keep trackmarks of these things,
the collective foolishnesses
we stock up and hold
ourselves like hostages at the
hand of-

of course:
it ain't your fault,
life like this just
aches a little too much,
a life of ingratiated and
incapitulating desperation always
suited me just fine but,
sugar,
right now,
i need something more to
keep me from
wanting to breathe less,
like i've been doing,
the past however-long
you've taken up residency
inside of me.

in a small town,
i'm too caught up in transit
to ever be able to
light fires, like you could be.
i know you'd never hurt me, but you still tore me apart,
just like i asked.

all i make are eternal apologies.
She reaches out for love but it eludes her
He spits her out but not before he chews her
she blames herself for his mistake,
for giving him a belly ache
no wonder why she's feeling like a loser.

and then one day she noticed she was slipping
the mirror never lies, she wasn't tripping
within her empty eyes she saw
the wear and tear had worn her raw
and tears behind the veil of shame were dripping.

Standing in the dim light of the morning
In want of something more of an adorning
she lifted up her golden hair,
and smiled though no one else was there
and realized she'd never heard the warning.

No one ever spoke of inner beauty
though the boys around her said she was a cutie
Daddy always wore the pants
but never asked his girl to dance
she learned her moves from guys who loved her ******.

Light music broke though silence of dead winter
Warm rays of sunshine thawed the ice within her
the local farmer loved his Lord
would never take, but could afford
and in his eyes, a pearl, and not a sinner.

She stands with him before the mirror now
her heart refreshed, she's seeing more somehow
the rounded apple of his eye
and no one else should wonder why
he bought the milk... because he loved the cow!
When I said,
"i
Hope
you're a big star one day"

...
i meant it quite literally

Light-years away and
constantly imploding
Just writin' away in the night. Have a look at some of my other poems if you'd like. Thank you very much for reading - comments / critique welcome!
 Dec 2013 Dawning Welliver
AJ
I think I actually try not to be toxic
Try not to be tragic
Try not to be destructive,
Along with its sub category
Self-destructive.

I just do not excel
In trying to feel mollified.
Though I've tried.

I like to drink the waters of insanity.
I can't steer from temptation,
Especially not if it's harmful.
It'll get me killed one day,
I'm sure of it.

After all, Jack and Jill fell down the hill,
And now Jack's in a box
Six feet under.
I bled my words but none landed on the paper.
10 word poem
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