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I used to think i was special,
the way my hair curled,
my deep brown eyes,
freckle adorned face.

That was before the
insomnia
the nights filled with
hate and sadness

The only deep thing about my eyes now
is the black shadows under them

My hair is limp, and no longer shines with
a naturally gorgeous golden glow.

my freckles have turned to little scars
the mini battlescars of adolescence.

It hurts, I don't feel special
I don't feel different.
If I'm not unique, am i
just another face in the crowd?

I'm a musician,
theres plenty of those to go round.
I produce my own music
So does the guy next door

How am I different
How can I make myself special again?
I want to be but I don't know how.
I'm just the same as everyone else.

Should I dye my hair again?
Get a piercing on my lip?
Doing that won't make me any different from
the people who gravitate round my lower class 'burb.

Sometimes, it feels like my life is a movie
I wasn't given a script
All i know is I'm here
till the credits roll

Maybe, I'll leave the cinema early,
Leave before the movie really finishes
Wouldn't that be nice?
No one really likes awkward horror films that much anyway.
This was incredibly random.
I sorta like the way it turned out
I write when I feel the need // To fight // Against myself
War inside // Two enemies // Never sure of what the other wants
A tango of emotions // A struggle of feelings
I pickup my pen // With the intention to win // Suddenly it now ends
The struggle is over // My emotions are released
Now I can go back to bed // Time for another day // To do it all again
Trying a new sort of writing style today. Giving myself a boundary makes me feel I have more room to grow creatively.
A negative mind set is equivalent to destruction.
Be positive, open your mind and embrace everything you encounter.
                         Someday everything will make perfect sense, after all you are Breathing.
So for now , laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, and always remind yourself that everything happens for a reason .
                          Just sit  tight and wait for your
Reason to show up, it always does.
fallen warrior's    dying gaze  .  .  .
blurry sun    she braids gold rays
gilded strands     grace Avrey’s hair
misty     tear-pooled stare  .  .  .





Dodoitsu. 7-7-7-5 (26) syllables
gv  .2015

Pfc. B.V. ,  a 22 year old mother of a little girl named Avrey
was Killed in 2010,  by an IED, RPG attack near Kunar province,
(145 military women killed as of April.1.2013 in Afghanistan, Iraq & Kuwait
Pfc. B.V. ,  a 22 year old mother of a little girl named Avrey
was Killed in 2010,  by an IED, RPG attack near Kunar province,
(145 military women killed as of April.1.2013 in Afghanistan, Iraq & Kuwait
i am so small
compared to the mountains
i am so little
compared to the sea
i am so tiny
in comparison to the islands
and i am so large
compared to what i thought i would be
Do you hear, can you hear
the beating of my heart
it stops, then starts
whenever we touch

Can you hear, do you hear
the silent drops of rain
washing all the pain away
every time we talk

Do you hear, can you hear
the mellow melody
slowly coming out of me
just for you to hear
twice by god's accidental interference,
our crash vehicles, super sized shopping carts,
connect, we are manger-penalized for unnecessary roughness
and disturbing the supermarkets peace

what better way to judge character than to examine
a single persons shopping cart  contents?

hers,
all organic, milk, heirloom tomatoes, even the Chardonnay,
grown upon the farms of the island and vineyards on
the forks that shelter the isle from the ravages of the Atlantic

mine,
Hebrew National franks, yellow mustard,
very classy brioche buns, a six pack of Corona Light,
and funny colored, funny looking, rusted russet potato chips

with a tremulous smile, and an overly loud, derisive sniff,
pronounces me dead man walking sooner than later,
to which, I respond,
then, teach me, where shall we dine tonight?

later that night,
after a thousand kisses of her fluttering eyelashes,
she props herself upon an elbow and
in a tone sincere and caring,
extracts from the poet promises of
natural exclusivity

from now on, healthy, natural only, organic and pure,
from the soul soil of our shared habitat

her suntan skin, garden-digging hand, I clasp,
softly climbing on top of her,
announce with total genuine sincerity and solemnity;

I swear it, from now on, all my loving will be sourced locally

rewarded with a laugh and a gentle but hard enough,
garden to table (with her free hand), head smacking,
I noting nod, good naturedly
that both the laugh and smack,
as well,

sourced locally,
sourced lovingly,

which then seeded
this new only love jointly authored poem,
planted in our mingling blossoming crashing
bodies


5/29/17 i
12:43pm
i know you are somewhere out there
somewhere far away
and as i look through the stars that orbit the sky
not a single one can be compared to you
not even the sun  
my oh my
a thousand miles away from me
seems so far
but i know you are right here in my arms
As nightfall caves in
a heavy weight of darkness covers my skin
but only one star remains
and that is you,
a light that shines when darkness gives us the blues
lightening up the dark
giving me a sense of comfort when i don't have you
We all love
Divided
In

Commonality

Profit
And
Loss
Interests
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