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Hannah Logue Dec 2012
Lost opportunity.
What a tragedy.

He was there.
He always was.
The simple "Hello."
The passing smiles.
Asking a name.
Sharing a laugh.

Ignored opportunity.
Was it too hard to surpass the basic?
It was.

Now he has gone.
Another world welcomes his beautiful soul.

The burden of the opportunity now lost.
What an ample burden it is.


Must this be the price of a lesson learned?
Hannah Logue Nov 2012
This sorrow. allows itself to consume my soul. paralyzing. no end in sight. stabbing. from nowhere it pounces--every ounce of my being and drags my heart to the pit of Hell. causing a loss of control. “Why?” I ask. the feeling of what was lost—I thought, maybe.. just maybe, I had crossed the bridge into a peaceful state of mind. But now I can’t feel a **** thing. the bridge was a painting of hopefulness in my mind. a painting that has now gone up in flames. scorched. Was it ever even there? have I been in this dream state the whole time? Excruciatingly fiction. how painful. Bitter. my heart must retain a sense of optimism. or crumble. Either way—I wish for a conclusion to happen soon.. I cannot let myself waste away in this state of indefinite. it carves wounds deeper than can be repaired. Soon.. please, dear God, soon.
Hannah Logue Nov 2012
I am to be alone.
The ones I hold close are to be nowhere near me.
I am the poison.
Clouds and clouds of poison am I.

I am to be alone.
Functionality dissipates when loved ones are near.
I throw my hands up and loose place of what is real.
I am to be alone.

I am to be alone.
Fate proves this.
He tests and teases me.
I prove fate true, time and time again.

I am to be alone.
It has been decided.
I have no say in the matter.
I am the child in the parking lot searching desperately for his mother.

I am to be alone.

— The End —