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Emily Jones Apr 2014
Your words screech like chalk board
Where criticism falls from your mouth
Loosing my feet ,buckled ankles, crawling like a wounded animal
After you
Trying to be strong when I am weak
Your hands are supposed to catch me
Comfort, it was all I ever ask of you
But  you turn your cheek to nothing but your own centered pain

As I lay holding the tremors of my insides
Bleeding ears bearing the tulmut in waves
Choking on my own misery
Self loathing and feeling worse for haven sought

Even in this I think
Of nothing
But the comfort of your arms
While you hurt me
Abuse my heart
I dream of being held
Turn towards your apathy
Like a moth to the beauty of a flame
Hoping to find something warm
Other than
Your blatant need to neglect my love

A *******
I become
Loving like a child
Eros
With blotted wings loosing everything for love
Emily Jones Apr 2014
Touched by the sound of your sadness
I want nothing more but to comfort
But the static of phoned wire cannot satisfy
Making your lonely
A sickness I can not cure
Expressing my love is the limit to my aid
And hope it is enough
To dry your eyes.
Emily Jones Mar 2014
There is no love here
    Where desperation meets necessity
Falling with the hope that nothing catches
   Waiting to give up
Emily Jones Mar 2014
Ripping paper tongued folded edges
Existing on the fringed heavily warped
Paranoia that has become my sanity
Where reality bleeds into itself like some ink spilt
On white walls leaking through cracks until there is nothing
Nothing but the sticky remnants of happy memories
Joyful music and the haunting echo of laughter

Staring back out the blank blind stare Friction
Static murmuring the fuzzy radio dial
Tuner sliding back and forth trying to connect the circuit but there is no wave length
Just the voided buzzing
The blipping of the lights behind the frame

Even your hands
Whom like a magnet seems to find the right channel
Some way to draw the breath back into the swinging classics
You bring the music back
But even you
My capitol Y
Could make the streaming black dotted fuz fade
Or the welling bend of hopeless panic
That locked inside my own hell recede

Calloused fingers in cascading waves of blonde
The touch of breath on stunted ear
Charlie Brown comfort croaking in shushed tones
Cut off
Equipment glitch like a seizure of the mind hemoraging the swelling force of tensed hands and screaming speech

Wishing to escape the madness
If I could, pray for peace
Emily Jones Mar 2014
Dancing shadows played chase around the wooded pier
Flickering flamed tongues captured the cold
Swallowing in big burning gulps
Until they drew swords and called draw
Leaving a line of chilling wind at my back

Where early dew clung to the back of my faded denim shorts in the late summer night
Crowded as close as I could get to you
Without being seen as some child
Lost in the company of your friends

I had not told you
That had never done this before
Met my lovers closet
The bits of weirdness that every one has
What we call our closest friends

I had never meant much to anyone for them to share me
Really see who I was
And find that pleasing

You laughed paying me no mind
Pointing fingers into the crimson light watching the copper wire
Spout blue and purple hues

In some low income trailer park were the sounds of dogs and crickets met the ear
Watching some shady deal happen behind the next house over

I found it there for the first time
In such a long time
That I couldn't remember the feel of the emotion anymore.
Acceptance

That night when we parted I was no longer alone
Emily Jones Mar 2014
Water falls the cascading rythm shadowing the back of my thought
As I watch the school tide flow
The lonely fountain bench becomes my muse
Where I exist outside of time
Staring into the listless movement of tree leaves
Stuck once more to the own cadence of thought
Echoing in the silent recess that has become my mood

While I cannot turn my eyes away
I am not really seeing
Not  feeling
Abstracting from reality
Pulling back away from the conscious buzzing back and forth between necessity
and possibility.
In my delirium I focus unexpectedly  
On one thing
The only thing sticking its green leaved beauty against the harsh brick facing
Tickling the crevices with its agelessness

A solid magnolia tree
Reaching for blooming glory
As if plucked out of some Georgian Southern tale
Ripe with the splendor of health
It seemed so out of place next to the young tree bushes that surrounded it
A solid reminder of lasting strength
I wondered

That should my roots become so in love with the ground they could not falter
Could I mimic this sleepy giant, whose solid trunk is gnarled with the abuse of centuries.
If I could let the wind of time and horror of burning pain pass me by?
Could I so love the sun that I reach with wide open arms to celebrate the dawning of a new day?
More over could I laugh at children as they attempt to climb my limbs, or read over the shoulder of some student who finds shade beneath my leaves.

Metaphor after metaphor meet my poets mind
I wonder about love and I wonder about time
I worry about school and take a deep breath
Deciding at once that there was nothing left
Nothing to worry nothing to cry
My emotions had run its course all in due time

And as I set waiting and thinking away I realized it was past noon
I had thought away the day
But all this time spent in my own head
I came to realize what the tree had truly said

Stop worrying
Stop thinking
And making yourself sick
Come what may
The only important thing is to persist.
Make living your goal, no fretting over something old.
Emily Jones Feb 2014
My voice has receded
Dried up like some long forgotten fruit
Stinging in the ****
Tasteless monogamy
That is the day to day grind
       Plucking the plump paradox of petulant perturbed thoughtless beings
       From my conscious where they lie to the face of my muse
       Confuse me for someone whom cares about the humdrum
While I stray chasing rabbits playing hostess to a tea time of my own madness
Loosing the clock while fishing the fragrant mobs of ill minded twits
Whom twiddle their thumbs for enjoyment
Casting wide to find meaning, beneath the shallow face

No in my confusion
In my madness
I introvertly extrovert
Venting my frustrations behind the mask of my smile
Curling on the edges like some shark snagged toothed
Grinning that grin
That sets the tight line between insanity, and genuine
Where the fickle flock, preening their peacock feathers for attention
Infested with the vagrant lice of lesser men, itching to beat the weak with their superiority.

I watch the flicking flea ridden disease that is their affliction
Smiling that cheshire smile
Knowing that it is their own sickness
That will eat them from inside.
College parties apparently not my thing.
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