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Nessa dieR Apr 16
I would run to your arms
Like no one ever will.
Now all that's left is my tiptoes
as to not wake up the only dream that still remains.
My heartbeat is finally louder  
than my own voice
  Feb 22 Nessa dieR
If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
Is off-brand raisin bran
Is how you say school is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
Nessa dieR Apr 2018
You are not                                                              ­                          him,
And I'm not                                                              ­                          her,

                               ­                                                                 ­            those,

the ones that we were before being                                                   us.
You were like that but now                                                                  ­             
You sound a little of                                                               ­            me.
    I was like that but now                                                                  ­        

I come a little from                                                             ­               you.
Nessa dieR Mar 2018
in just one instant everyone separates
                    from the images we loved the most,
and dear friend
you will lay
               fragile and
                in pain beside the frames.

I left you thinking about many things
and hopefully you will think a bit of me along the way.

You know,
dear friend,
in this path towards death
              called life,
I feel well accompanied
I feel almost satisfied
when I picture that far away,
                                              wherever you are,
maybe you believe my words before going to bed
or come across me in the streets of your dreams.
  Feb 2018 Nessa dieR
Nigel Finn
People like you and me have grown used to dancing along,
To the raggedy tune of someone else's song.
We are able to dance, and smile, and duck, and roll, and weave,
While still clinging tightly to the things that we believe.
Sometimes we are led to believe we will lose it all; our heart, our soul, our very name,
Afraid they'll take away the us-ness of us; but still we play their game.

I wonder how many others know how to fake their hand?
Who keep the love caged up inside, to appear "normal" and bland?
Perhaps it is just us, perhaps just you, or, again, perhaps just me,
Or perhaps each individual just sees what they want to see.



Or perhaps, but...

I had a vision once; all the bad thoughts in the world were mine;
I ****** them in from everyone else, so that all the world felt fine,
And while all other folk were safe at rest, I cried and cried and cried,
And toddled down some empty street, slumped down a wall, and died,
Taking with me all the evil thoughts- the hate, the pain, the strife;
I believe it was the happiest I'd felt in all my life.

I tell you that to tell you this; all people's pain is pain to me,
And I would gladly give you happiness, in exchange for misery.
Don't keep those thoughts locked up inside, and hoard them for your own,
Or both you and I will surely die depressed- afraid- alone.
If, for some unknown reason, you'd like to hear me read this poem, go here;
  Feb 2018 Nessa dieR
Lord Byron
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow—
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o’er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:—
Long, long shall I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met—
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?—
With silence and tears.
  Feb 2018 Nessa dieR
Nat Lipstadt
My Poet:

tho evening draws nigh,
on this our wedding day,
the stars, guardians of our canopy,
reminder twinkle it can never be
fully complete, for you always make
a moment in time for me,
today we wait, synchronizing seconds
until both pronounce,
I do

let my hands,
in my tenderest embracing grasp,
perforce, when I hold you face,
still cannot hold your entirety,
for you always make and leave a space
for me to seal our universe

today, you need me to fill you,
so together, ever forward,
we will define and explore
the edges of our redrawn,
now, single unified line,
our ever expanding contiguous boundary

our blood is not commingled
but when our bodies unified,
the physics of our conjoining,
illustrates that those in our
surround of time and space,
in the aura we create,
not so very great,  
and yet our oneness
'tis a shining upon the countenance of our place,
a luminous emittance upon this earth

when you write your poetry,
it always finishes with me,
I am the native child of thy words,
I am the filament webbing
illuminating the spaces between each line

but more than this,
I am your beginning,
you are my destination,
together we make,
The End

they ask me to vow,
demand I swear, make promises,
certify, preserve, record and store
the solemnity of this marriage born,
in ledgers of the city,
before an invisible god

I eschew all this
for nothing in life
ever guaranteed by words secured,
but this I know true

My Poet:

*what I shall give to you,
and you to us,
cannot be spoke,
the words, not yet,
have we originated

for each day
will we compose anew,
each day, shall be
a new combination
under new stars,
our canopy unfolded,
our joining sanctified,
by the simple truth of us
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