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 Feb 2016 Emily Dawn
The Dedpoet
You buy flowers and a card as an excuse to write a poem, even though you're single.

2. When " How Do I love you, let me count the ways"... And you literally lost count.

3. When Cupid calls you corny.

4. When you make a poem out of those little heart candies.

5. Cupid throws up a little in his mouth after reading your exceedingly sweet sonnet.

6. You bought your kid Valentines day cards for his class and wrote haiku's on every one.

7. You ponder the box of chocolates, and how it is like life, though it sounds familiar, you title your poem "Life is Like a Box of Chocolates".

8. You buy roses and a card filled with your sweet words for your ex, though she calls you a stalker, you are glad she called you.

9. You recite Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, and you're in the shower.

10. You suddenly bulk up on Pablo Neruda, ready to take on the romantic world.

11.As you look at your hellopoetry site while driving, you see a smear of blood on the windshield, two small wings, and what looks like a bow and arrow.

12. When you write a poem and have no one to give it to, suddenly Mom is the best Valentine ever.

13. When you go on the big date, secretly you have your own penand paper in your back pocket, writing verses when you excuse yourself from the dinner table.

14. When you write a poem for your wife, your side girlfriend and your mistress, just because it feels romantic, it is Valentines after all.

15. When you give the wrong poem to your wife, instead of the mistress.

16. Your girlfriend is suddenly a diabetic due to your sweet poem.

17.When you write a poem on hellopoetry and dedicate it to your Valentine, even though you don't have one.

18. When you buy yourself roses and a box of chocolate, write a beautiful poem to yourself, you might be a romantic poet.

19. When your secret admirer is you, the secret poems don't have the same effect.

20. Last but no least, you might be a poet when you wonder if Cupid is lonely and write an invite in the form of a sonnet to see if the little guy will join you for a poetry reading.
 Nov 2015 Emily Dawn
Rapunzoll
homewrecker,
you lived within every
callous and dimple,
invading my space
like dust between
my fingertips

your skin like wallpaper,
faded and worn,
pulled taunt along
these walls.

your thoughts
a constant thumping
of footsteps along
the floorboards

homewrecker,
from you i learnt
gunshots sound
a lot like a key
turning in a lock

it's because of you
i cannot look at
these walls, without
seeing the shadow
of a fist reflected
by the light

homewrecker,
the rooms are vacant,
the air stilled,
the hallways scream
and close in at night.

homewrecker,
i used to be an open house
but now because of you
i shut the doors
(i shut the doors)
© copyright
I know we never had our first date
things were difficult but we still stayed up late
talking about what we wanted to be
I wanted you, I thought you wanted me

I loved the way
you put your hand upon my face
looked into my eyes
the way your lips taste

Friends come and go
sometimes they stay
Enemies have hurt us
is it a price we pay

Do they ache
like we do
are you grieving
like I do for you

I hoped, I wished
I loved, I missed
you held, you cared
you hugged and kissed

I hate the way you moved on
but only because I want the same
but that's so hard to do now
When I have no one to blame
This is one of my first poems i ever wrote i hope you like it.
 Oct 2015 Emily Dawn
Amber
A  true realization
maybe an imagination
ore a speculation?
Perhaps even just an experince
but the samples are as thick as your tissue
the  memories  flowly as the tears
we  all  let  escape from our body
from time to time
Fake  friends  the hollow
people that  desire you
but at the same time envy and despise you
Making it look like you´re paranoid
when you  like a crow  spread your wings
around them
Reminding them at any moment
you to  can cut  them as deep
as they  wish to  bleed you out
Since I was old enough to speak,
i promised to love you till the end of time;
and now i'm praying for the end of time to come quickly,
so i can stop loving you.
Why?
because i dont break my promises.


Some part of me got lost in your apron;
Where you hid your cigarettes.
No I’ll never forget, cigarettes lit,
pots blackened by the thick smoke from the stoves.
Your majestic pose over the cans as you churned your latest recipes to life.
I just wanted to be like you.

Now you're there,
as fragile as a worm in a brine pool.
Laying in that hospital bed,
the white sheets stained by your spews of black blood.
The doctor said your lungs have given way,
I still cant believe that you're leaving me.
We forgot to live... *The nanny tales*
I dwelt alone
             In a world of moan,
         And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride—
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
             Ah, less—less bright
             The stars of the night
         Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
             And never a flake
             That the vapor can make
         With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie’s most unregarded curl—
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie’s most humble and careless
  curl.
             Now Doubt—now Pain
             Come never again,
         For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
             And all day long
             Shines, bright and strong,
         Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye—
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
18
The ****** fuzz of adulthood
on the horizon
appears nearer than ever.

Crossing into frosty territory,
the frigid space between young
and not so young.

Six thousand five hundred
seventy four days
to get used to this voice.

To become familiar with these bones,
the way they crunch,
toes bent like ancient forks.

Days will be bloated with things
we never thought
we’d have to think about.

The ECG lines of our lives
flapping up and down,
a white wild skipping-rope.

They say it’s down to us now.
It’s our generation who will destroy,
then make flowers from the rubble.
Written: October 2015.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time (100 words long), sort of inspired by the fact a friend of mine turns eighteen today (I am 22). All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP in the coming months.
 Oct 2015 Emily Dawn
nivek
you have become the river
a flowing clear crystal

a song forever free
of all endings
Mindless nightmares
Soft, silent breath
Nobody there
Just awaiting **death
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