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Out of shell, she broke,
Goddess face, Bottecelli painting—
'The Birth of Venus.'
a marionette with a broken heartstring
posed no more of a threat to her than a knife to her throat.
the thought of hanging free, carefree,
freedom,
from the puppeteer tainted her salty tears
streaming mascara down porcelain features. a blank canvas to recreate.

but it didn't matter how far she blew
in the wind, or the sights she saw through her broken, jaded eyes,
the scent of love, lust, longing, lingered
in the crevices
of the very oak she was sculpted from. reborn.
it followed close by, wherever she landed
through the gentle homely aromas of aged whiskey and cheap cigarettes.

he'd sold out;
a ***** to his own sophistic creation.
An old poem with a few stanzas deleted.

June 2011-
 Jun 2013 Emma Louise
Djs
he'd picked up all the pieces
putting her back together
and fixed all her mess
with a non-promising forever

she was a seed planted
and so was he
she was plain in red
but he'd already figured her beauty

she was a flower child
and he was a stem sturdy
she was an artist in the wild
and he'd admire her blatantly

she had blossoming petals
and he had growing leaves
she was special and above all
his only reason to live

she was a ****** rose
and he was ordinary left with nothing
but with her every cut and dose
he was there to stop the bleeding

she was a dying flower by may
and he'd just started blossoming
she kept pushing him away
until the day he'd stop trying

i was the wilted flower
and he was the beautiful one
i needed him more than ever
but he was long gone

*-djs
Closing my eyes, drifting to sleep
Count as they jump, jumping white sheep
At mind’s edge I stand, then take my leap
Into the abyss, I’m falling so deep

Float from the sky, touch down into sand.
Dancing, singing, they ask me to play
Shrug my shoulders and reach out my hand
My worries from life then fade away

We dance on the beach, me and those sheep
Dancing and laughing, now sound asleep
A presence nearby, keeping at bay
Think nothing of it, just dance and play.

The sun’s always rising, in this strange land
The clouds making shapes and the trees are all purple.
Playful white sheep still dance in the sand
Sudden feelings of dread fill me, something is wrong.

The presence draws closer, my thoughts become darker
Turned to the sheep, I look for similar feelings
But their cute white sheep faces have all disappeared
In unison they stop dancing, turn and glare.
From tiny sheep faces, just sunken red eyes remain
They notice me noticing, “It’s not nice to stare”
Whipping my head ‘round, the presence stands there
A being so dark, I can’t make out what it is

My breathing becomes heavier, a rotten smell comes from his
“You shouldn’t have come” he says “You shouldn’t be here”
Before I could run, a flash of horror filled my mind
Every bad thing I’ve done and been victim of.

“You came to my world seeking dance with the fauna,
An escape from your problems, the pains, the trauma.
But you cannot escape, for I am the window of pain,
Forcing all to look through, and you won’t get my pity,
Nor will I feign your disdain, for now you see,
This is my domain.”

The horrors from life swirled violently through my mind.
Shaking my head, I cry “Please take me home!”
But the presence just laughs
And the demon-eyed sheep laugh
And they laugh
Laughing like school children
In fact, exactly so…


Lift my head from my desk, then I see
Room full of students, laughing at me.
Teacher approached, “XXXXX, you were snoring.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. This lesson is boring.”
Poets are almost always sad
But that's because
We've been hurt
We've suffered
We've endured
But most of all we've persevered.
 May 2013 Emma Louise
els
Your eyes, they watch me, following every wrong move I so naively make.  
Tempting,
p u l l i n g,
prodding,
phasing me; blinding and obscuring my, at one point, 20/20 vision.  
You have kicked me while I am down.  
How could I have been so stupid?  
"You want me.  We both know it," you whisper into my untrained ears, unsure brain and straight into my wayfaring heart.  
You invite me closer
and
no matter how much I despise myself for it, I am continually choosing you over the One I really and truly desire.  
Why do I do that?
When I think of her I picture her in my bed.
No, not having *** with me, or with her hands under my clothes.
Not even naked.
I see her just lying next to me, looking into my eyes, and whispering
"I love you".
I don't fail to hold her close to me, kiss her forehead, look her in the eyes and say
"I love you too".

Then I see us on the couch.
She rests her head on my lap as we watch a movie.
I start losing interest, and, out of nowhere, I just kiss her.
I say "Be mine forever".
"I already am", she replies.

Finally I see her as an angel, flying above me and lending her hand.
I grab it, and she takes me away to her world.
A world full of beauty, warmth and magic.
She says "Welcome to our world",
and I wake up.
It was a dream, but I turn my head, and there she is. My angel,
still asleep, so innocent, so pure, so beautiful.
I smoothly kiss her on the cheek, and say with a smile on my face
"This is our world".

Some can call me corny.
Some might say I'm gay,
but I can't help but be
a hopeless romantic.
"She" has no name yet, but I hope I find her soon.
Anyone interested? (jaja, just kidding).
We had our time
Hot summer nights
Dreaming under the stars
Kissing scars and getting completely lost
in eachother arms
We bloomed like vibrant flowers
and wept tears of joy
May showers
Talked about our love for endless hours
It was us we entangled in unity
But too soon we experienced the fall
Inevitably we reached a flaw
and those petals withered in the chill
We died out and lost the thrill
This winter has lasted far too long
You're far gone yet I'm still here musing along
Waiting for spring
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