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 Jun 2013 gabrielle boltz
CRH
You always said I talked too much.

And while I certainly
don't think most people of at least
a reasonable degree of competency would
be inclined to disagree, it just seems
to me that you were thinking
about it all wrong.

Perhaps the real
problem was not my tendency to
speak loudly and with great frequency
but rather it was the inferiority
of your listening abilities,
or lack thereof.

You see, I wouldn't
need to constantly dwell and
reiterate and repeat if you would have
been able to conceive  even momentarily
that there was reasoning tucked between
the seams of my stories that I kept
waiting for you to find.

I wanted to give you
chances repeatedly to display some
needed empathy and to meet even my
most basic needs or, **** it, just common
decency but all requests were met
selfishly and I think its time
to leave it behind.

I am ready to breathe
regularly and sleep without the haunting
dreams and stick to it this time without relapsing.
I am ready to finally start resisting picking up the phone
when you inevitably decide you are feeling a little too lonely
and know that you can always count on me to be too
desperate and too weak to waste an opportunity
to speak because you always said
I talked too much.

I hope I am finally running out of things to say.
I am a glutton for punishment and also assonance.  I know this is definitely not my best work but it was fun to write.  

What's the point of being a poet if we can't find a way to create from the heartache?
 Jun 2013 gabrielle boltz
CRH
Although it helps us
            write,
It doesn't make it
             right.
Each day I log on here to be greeted by the humbling and beautiful words of this community and too often these words are being used to describe and mourn and cope with mistreatment and misunderstanding and heartbreak.  It is so admirable to see so many of you turning your heartache into beautiful works of art but today I am just furious at the people who mistreat you.  Thank you for sharing your stories of pain and I hope whoever has hurt you will realize that you are a force to be reckoned with.
 Jun 2013 gabrielle boltz
CRH
If misguided
Love
can breed
Contempt
and contempt
can breed
Creativity
then all things
considered, sweetheart,
you have certainly
Inspired me.
 Jun 2013 gabrielle boltz
Mia
If I decided to make you fall in love with me, I could.

But I want you to come to me of your own free will.

I need you to want me more than life itself.

I want to wake up next to you and find that you were watching me.

I would love to walk hand in hand to my place or yours for coffee,

not because I am lonely but because you can’t imagine letting me go.

I want you to write to me when you are not with me,

a handwritten letter telling me that you can’t stop thinking about me.

I expect to be wooed and serenaded, not because I am used to it,

but because you think I deserve to be spoiled and  lavished in love.

Talk to me of things you see that remind you of me, tell me your dreams of a life you only see around me.

You see, I don’t want to lure you into loving me.

I want you to captivate me with your honesty and passion,

that I may find myself learning to love you.
As a child they keep reminding  you of all the things you shouldn't be doing,
Don’t touch wet paint, It’ll leave a stain
Don’t run around in the halls, You’ll end up falling
Don’t play with fire, You’re bound to get burnt
Don’t speak to strangers, They’ll end up hurting you
But what they fail to mention is that that stain you get, it’ll wear out eventually.
That fall you had, you’ll learn to get back up.
Those burnt wounds, they’ll make you stronger, help you stand a little taller.
And the strangers we’re kept away from, those aren’t the ones we should be afraid of,
The people who hurt us the most are the ones closest to us.
Don't do this, Don't do that, Don't walk like that, Don't forget, Don't fail, Don't sing in public, Don't be loud, Don't dress like that, Don't be different, Don't stand out.  Whatever you do, just don't.
(I'm screaming)
You told me I was being too loud.
It's silly,
to be neither seen nor heard.

(I'm hiding)
You scold me for interrupting too much.
Even that
Doesn't really seem to work.

I guess I don't want to
seem overbearing
but my senses
are blurred at the edges
and my substance
doesn't feel so substantial at all

Creeping insecurity
that those shooting stars
didn't really fall through
and my wishes
of invisibility
are fading into truth.
The discomfort
The preexisting doubt, magnifies
Turns every infinitesimal crack of disagreement
Into one great chasm of rage.

And I try
Oh, I try
To build a bridge between
Opposing sides, but
The chasm is so deep
And so wide, that
Every attempt ends in failure
And I too, become frustrated
Frustrated with the crumbling cement
And the mangled steel
And the **** chasm itself

My understanding of basic engineering principles
Leaves much to be desired
 May 2013 gabrielle boltz
Amber S
i have found myself while dancing,
grinding against walls scribbled with
martinis and broken ideas.
i have seen myself through others,
the girl who wobbles through neon colors,
the girl who shakes until sweat paints a fresh new coat.
i have heard my gospel,
through the thunderous speakers,
the screams of people who want a warm bed.
i have lost myself while dancing,
falling to absent galaxies,
trying to find a light to guide me home.
relying on the touch of unknown men,
to **** this star wallowing deep inside of me.
i do not know who i am
when i am dancing.
i want to think i am the milky way,
or a black hole,
gasping everything entirely.

— The End —