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If
If love was a thought,
then I hope it counts
Leaping into infinity,
Lost in the dust..
help one count
I hate how negative you are.
I hate that you do not understand me.
I hate that you believe negative rather than any positive in me.
I hate that this feels forced.
I hate that speaking to you is like a tongue fighting a knife,
--your words always did cut much deeper than mine.
I hate that you do not listen.
I hate that I have little connection with you.
I hate that you make me miss them.
I used to have faith in this but that faith has now been drained.
I have been bruised
I have dropped six thousand feet after a euphoric high
I have been defeated in reaching an imaginary sky

But the ground to which I fall on
Has become the strength to which I stand on
The pillar to where I pick myself up after a laborious fight
The friend which tells me that in order
To gain infinities, I must win the
Battles of small beginnings
rough day. And even rougher days to come. My inspirations are nowhere to be found like before and the coming weeks are filled with anxiety. I tell this to myself that has been doubting a lot of things lately
She was a little girl about seven or eight
Had a dream but couldn’t wait.
Said she been dreaming of this since she was two
And knew just what she had to do.
She felt the LORD in her soul –that to preach she was told.
She told her preacher what she felt inside
And it was something that she could not hide.
She would preach the gospel while in school
While other kids thought her “the fool “.
The preacher seeing the pain in her face said:
“You can preach in my place “.
He set up his pulpit with a wooden stand
So she could grab the mic with one hand.
When the congregation gathered to their dismay
She grabbed the mic and started to pray.
The sermon she gave left the people in awe
This had never been done before.
They all stood up and started to sing
Because the feelings this girl did bring.
The” hallelujah s “and” praise the Lord”
Was being sung like never before, as they walked out the doors.
She is just a little girl – but JESUS CHRIST filled her world.
The preacher girl
She was a little girl about seven or eight
Had a dream but couldn’t wait.
Said she been dreaming of this since she was two
And knew just what she had to do.
She felt the LORD in her soul –that to preach she was told.
She told her preacher what she felt inside
And it was something that she could not hide.
She would preach the gospel while in school
While other kids thought her “the fool “.
The preacher seeing the pain in her face said:
“You can preach in my place “.
He set up his pulpit with a wooden stand
So she could grab the mic with one hand.
When the congregation gathered to their dismay
She grabbed the mic and started to pray.
The sermon she gave left the people in awe
This had never been done before.
They all stood up and started to sing
Because the feelings this girl did bring.
The” hallelujah s “and” praise the Lord”
Was being sung like never before, as they walked out the doors.
She is just a little girl – but JESUS CHRIST filled her world.
She tells me about her past. A ****. A ******.
She lies to me -- I'm fine. It was no big deal. It doesn't bother me anymore.
She knows. I know.
They don't.
She tells me not to call the police. That it's a secret and that its over now.

He hurt her.
I don't know who he is and she won't tell me.
Says that she's protecting me.
That if he knew that I knew, he would get me too.

She remembers everything from that night.
The bad man didn't know that she was watching.
Didn't think she was home.
As he put the gun to her mothers head.

The bad man was in jail for a while.
He's back now.
And he's looking for her
She won't admit it, but she's scared.
Because what we both know,
Is that she never left that house.
**She's still there.
the women of the past keep
phoning.
there was another yesterday
arrived from out of
state.
she wanted to see
me.
I told her
"no."

I don't want to see
them,
I won't see them.
it would be
awkward
gruesome and
useless.

I know some people who can
watch the same movie
more than
once.

not me.
once I know the
plot
once I know the
ending
whether it's happy or
unhappy or
just plain
dumb,
then

for me
that movie is
finished
forever
and that's why
I refuse
to let
any of my
old movies play
over and over again
for
years.
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
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