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 Dec 2014 Dennis Scherle
R
I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
and I'm far from romantic
my two moods fall between
depressed and manic
I'm not charismatic
I'm far too sarcastic
and just from one ****
I can snap like elastic.

But no one has ever
been strong enough to
pull apart the barriers
that cover my heart
quite like you do,
and I know you
hate your smile
but my god
I have never seen
a face light up so much
with just the movement
of a muscle.
Tousled hair
of black and blonde
I am so fond of the way
you say my name
like it isn't something to
be ashamed of.
Like somehow,
I'm more than the sum
of my parts.
Like somehow,
I'm not just a canvas
but art.

I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
but there's something about
your eyes of blue
and the way you flew
into my life
like a falling star,
slowly
then crashing
all at once
finding its way into the
dark crevice of my heart
that was nearly torn apart
but you picked up the pieces
and bandaged me together again.

And this might sound zany
but even just one night alone
makes me miss you like crazy
because when I'm with you
my mind goes all hazy
and I'm convinced
in that moment
that everything will be okay
because you are not just
a boy to me
you lessen my depression
you calm my anxiety
I'd throw away my variety
of pills just to be in your
arms forever
Elavil, Cipralex, Zoloft
are just names
and they hold nothing to you
because you are my
perfect dose of serotonin.

You said,
"I like you more than poetry"
but my words are broken vocal chords
that never should be spoken
yet when I'm with you,
the poet is awoken.
Ballads and rhymes
will fill my mind
but no matter how hard I try,
nothing I write
is worthy of you.
The most beautiful
man I know,
the most beautiful
man I ever knew.

And I say,
cut off the strings,
you marionette.
Free yourself from the
binding chains
that control your every move,
fly. Sing me a song,
you gorgeous violin.
Tear away the
thoughts from your mind
that are constantly
telling you that
you are not good enough
because my darling,
you will always be
good enough for me.

You said,
"I like you more than poetry"
and I'm not the kind of girl
who writes love poems
but I will say that poetry
is nothing without the poet.
And my god,
I ******* love the poet.
 Jan 2014 Dennis Scherle
C A
I'm so alone now in this shelter as a cocoon
Empty and unholy
Insecure and maybe moody
I'm so unafraid now I've turned my guilt into a blaze
As I rage against the enemies I create
Its the path of freedom in this miserable escape towards happiness

I wasn't particular about the things that I expected from you
Just obvious with the what and when and where and how but never with the why
I knew the secret rules of boundaries and respect
Silence is a way to watch it all or twist it all, or hide it all
Silence was the one time you fell apart when all the other times you weren't too far from Hercules
I am angry with you, patient with you
I can't lose sleep over it
I'll just cry in terror
You can just sit there careless
I guess its times like these when you realize the things you want
And the things you don't

I'm unhappy
At this  very instant
But even most days I can muscle up the energy
I can focus on whats right and whats now and what can be
You can sit there drown in your solitude
because if you can't let it out and you won't let me in
Eventually the guilt from your kisses will be swallowed in acid
And the reaction of which will eat you alive
Keeper Of The Wind.

Who goes there says I out loud

But there came no answer to my silly question

But the wind kept rattling itself outside and came in through each smallest crack

And I stood there so silently thinking who was it that just moaned
And out it came

A vapor that stunk of rotted old cheese

And I slumped over myself for I could not stand being consumed by this over offensive odor

And I grew ever so queasy inside of the deepest part of me

And it growled out at me that nasty oldest thing that now grew ever so tall in front of me

And he snickered out loud
and he said in the gruffest voice

I am the master of the wind

The oldest survivor of all things

And you are now of me

And I was hurled forward deep within that humanless being until I was never more.

jo.
 Jan 2014 Dennis Scherle
Sia Jane
"I'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting..."*
Richard Siken

You set my soul on fire
pouring gasoline over
every inch of the skin
I inhabit daily

You set my soul on fire
knowing how much it
would burn, leaving
deep everlasting scars

You set my soul on fire
excruciatingly ripping
a person I love so
knowing the pain you'd cause

You set my soul on fire
your face ablaze with
an unspoken contentment
at claiming what you believe is yours

I sit here and mourn
my heart misshaped from the norm
I sit here and weep
at how trampled I was by your feet
I sit here with anger
knowing where to point the finger
twist it round,
with your well rehearsed stirs
that damage, disintegrate and curse


© Sia Jane
 Jan 2014 Dennis Scherle
R
Guardian
 Jan 2014 Dennis Scherle
R
i.

Here's to you, pretty girl.

It's been quite a while since I've seen you smile but every single time that you do, just know that it brightens my day in a way that you could never understand. And I know that the hand you've been dealt with has at times made you felt like the whole world was against you, but darling, that's not true.

If only you knew the way the rest of us saw you; if only you realized that your very existence is a true blessing to each and every person you come into contact with – that your crazy laugh and witty personality are in fact the centrality of my whole world.

It seems as though God has hurled a curve ball at you which is so unfair when everyone else has merely dodged their bullets. But you caught it straight in the heart and I know that its nearly torn you apart with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it hurts to continue standing when the pain is branding scars into your skin. But pretty girl – please – do not let these demons win. You are more than this, and trust me when I say that if I could wave a magic wand and bond your heart back together then you know I'd do it time and time again.

Of course, life isn't like that though. But despite what that monster has told you before, if you can hold on just a little more then I promise that after you grow old you're gonna look back to this day and be grateful of the fact that you had the courage to say "if I can ignore this urge then maybe I'll be okay."

ii.

Here's to you, beautiful boy.

All you ever wanted was love from your mother but only received it from your two year old brother who has not yet perceived the truth about all the pain that will arise from a mom who doesn't care enough to leave her room and a dad who does nothing but lie.

And surprise surprise, your mouth speaks of wisdom but your eyes are blind to the beauty of yourself and the wealth hidden deep inside a poor man's mind because if there's one thing that I'll ever know, it's that the richest person in this whole **** world holds nothing to your heart of gold.

Unfold your wings and learn how to fly. Rise up from the floor where you were kicked to the ground without even making a sound because you think you deserve this. But I'm telling you right now that your nerves have been shot by the place you were brought up in. A home is not a home when daddy steals all your money just to pay off a loan and mommy's already thinking about where to put her tombstone.

Get out of this place that has caused so much hate; break free from this trap you're in and make your escape. Take my hand and I'll help you land safely on a ground that's free from the mound of shattered glass you've been trying to surpass your whole life. Leave the knife behind and push the bad thoughts from your mind because it's time to get away.

iii.

Here's to you, my two warriors. My carriers of on. My musketeers.

Rest your weary eyes, I say, forget your demise and keep your eyes on the prize: life. Just keep breathing, and even at the times when your heart won't stop bleeding and your lungs start heaving and you crumple to the floor – remember this:

No matter how deep that blade slices into your soft smooth skin, no matter how much you hate yourself and long for release, no matter how much that bottle of pills tempts you into thinking it's the only thing that will ease your tired body to sleep tonight, hold onto these five words and never let them go:

*I will love you more.
"We all rely on each other, us three... we're ****** but we fight and I guess that's what makes us friends."

— The End —