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LVI
In the dark
The english roses
Number the stars
//
The infinite sea
(Of) the other normals
Falling into place
//
After we fell
Fifty shades darker
Ten tiny breaths
Four seconds to lose
//
On such a full sea
The echo maker
Decoded
The narrow road to the deep north
//
Farther away
Legends of literature
(Made) memories
(And) collected poems
//
The little prince
Burned
The beast
The year I met you
//
One hundred names
The ten-year nap
This is my life
//
Save me
All of the lines are titles of books I found in a bookstore (it's what I usually do when I get lost in stacks of books)
 Oct 2015 Euphoric Acid
Cathyy
I hope I live to see Ed Sheeran, and Taylor swift live, and spend new years in New York
I hope I make the perfect coffee for my future love and maybe even raise a puppy.
I hope my writing actually gets somewhere,
Than just spilled on a random page,
Of a giant internet database
I hope my little quotes and lyrics
Are sketched into teenage journals
I hope I meet my biggest supporter someday, and hang out with them in Disneyland.
I hope everything stops being crazy,
And everything starts becoming clearer
I hope everyday I am alive, I make positive impact.

I hope, I hope
That the Universe notices,
All the times I nearly broke..
Were all the times,
I began to grow.
So i wrote three really deep poems during the age of 17,

The child
The dreamer
The giver

... I feel this isn't really a poem, but a monologue. However, i hope* ;)
... It touches someone.

Please check me out on Youtube,
Just type in "JournalofMusic" and i'm there with like 14/15 videos now... If you help me out with views and stuff i'll always have a reason to keep on writing. :) x

Love ,
Cathy
 Oct 2015 Euphoric Acid
ottaross
No voice could call
From my sandpaper throat.
The script written
In a watercolour ink,
Left the pages blank
After the rain.
Clutching a weathered branch
On an overhanging rocky ledge,
Legs dangled into the abyss.
Finally, a reaching arm
From the quicksilver mirror
Pulled me back
To the rabbit hole within.
Pen and paper the escape of the mind.
The Place where a thought is now not a thought.
The words now written aren't seen as just feelings, they are seen as a way into the mind of those they are written by.
Words that cannot be spoken because they just don't sound the same. When you cannot put the words together seems like your mind is going insane. With each stroke of the pen it seems to get easier, the thoughts become words on paper, they no longer consume space in your mind. Allowing you to move on.
I have never starred at a blank page and never not known what to write.
Its like the words  no longer express my feelings, feelings that are no longer short phrases or poems of emotions.

My feelings  are inexpressible they have become so complicating.
I have mentally blocked out what was my outlet " Writing". I was once able to let out my emotions on a page and leave them there, But now its like I write an emotion and gain twice as much back.

I have lost my battle  and my strength to continue to try. As I sit here writing I realize that this may not make sense to anyone else but me. If you are reading this I have never wanted to make sense to anyone, because these are my feelings . I am just writing how I feel
 Oct 2015 Euphoric Acid
Pax

I sit alone as if I am fading
Invisible in the ashen fields.
My heart longs to be somewhere
to where I see myself
Clear as the new day
True to oneself’s beauty
Away from the toxicity of people’s opinion
Or as far away from my own shadow of doubt.

I sit alone & not running anymore.
Losing strength as the wind passes by
Losing a bit of my edge in this unreasonable persona, I face.
Yet I never give a **** as long as I kept on going
Reaching for something Unreachable,
I can only hope…

I want to feel the life of someone’s at arm’s reach
to feel that I am alive
I missed you.

this feels like a follow-up on my 'ashen gray' piece:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/298918/ashen-gray/
though it is much more in a different road,
a road that i am longing to have..
Write lines upon my heart
in pure white light
and I will read them
  
Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Touch the tender pool
of infinite white light
    
Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Meet me in the air space
between your thoughts
For this is holy ground
With the greatest humility and gratitude, I wish to dedicate this poem tonight to all of you at HP who have shown such lovely support for this quiet poem, which emerged from my deepest inner awareness.
Above all, gratitude to my Teachers.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
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