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Dora Joe Feb 2016
I met him when he was broken.
His heart was knitted together with strings so fragile.
But he lived as though he had no burden on his shoulders.

He knew death like he knew love.
They were his companions.

I think that's what I love about him.
And what more?
His quietness breached my silence.
His discerning look left me mesmerized.
His touch killed me.
His lips burned me.
He made love to me like he wanted to devour my being.
He loved me in the most brutal way.

But when I had to leave, he looked at me in quiet desperation.
He doesn't understand that it is not I who can fill the void in his soul.
Dora Joe Aug 2015
He walked in,

In random strides.

Perplexed!

Not knowing that I...

In quiet desperation,

Wanted him.

-Doey
Dora Joe Mar 2015
I'm a realist.
He's a dreamer.
He wants to run away.
I'd say okay.
I'd have to earn first.
He will be okay.

I'm an abuser.
He's a lover.
He wants to make love.
I'd say alright.
But first, I'd chide him.
He will be alright.

I'm a recluse.
He's a free spirit.

He's everything I am not.
I am everything he's not.

<He doesn't look a thing like Jesus..." Music plays in the background>

That's all.
I just love him.

- Doey
Dora Joe Jan 2015
He changed.
She changed.
They waged a war.
Not knowing that hearts were breaking in between them.

-Doey
Dora Joe Jan 2015
Simple soliloquies.
Mostly misunderstood.
To some, inspiration.
To many, mental illness.

-Doey
Dora Joe Jan 2015
2015, Please be kind.
No heartaches this year.
I am spent.

2015, Please be nice.
No heartbreaks this year.
I am not strong enough.

2015, Please let me be.

-Doey
  Dec 2014 Dora Joe
Devon Webb
We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
It's worth it though.
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