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  Jan 2018 Hannah Beasley
Kelly Weaver
Who knew love had such soft hands,
And the gentlest of eyes that could soothe any ache and calm any storm
Who knew love was so warm,
That even the sun would envy in its rays
And who knew it’s smile could brighten even the darkest of days?
I had no idea.
But god, do I know now.
Sometimes I forget I’m actually grounded
Because love is making me feel lighter than air
Love is taking its warm arms and wrapping me in its embrace
And I never want love to let me go
And I hope it never does
I hope love kisses my forehead every night before bed and kissing my hand every morning when I wake
Love makes me blush so deeply and lust so intensely
And I’m never be able to get enough.
I’ll never stop loving being in love
Hannah Beasley Jan 2018
What makes you feel beautiful?
No I don't mean Make-up And high heels
I mean looking at your best friend, and getting the feels

I mean
Rainbows on a cloudy day
Or
Rays of sun through window panes

I know what makes me Feel Beautiful
Raindrops on roses
A completed work of art,
Warm apple cider
And bumble bees
Or my sisters smile

My sisters smile
My sister is warm apple cider on a cold winter night
My sister is a work of art
My sister is a rainbow
She is the sun, and I her moon
She brings me light when I am lost in the darkness
and cannot find my way
My sister,
Is my best friend
And she makes me feel beautiful
  Jan 2018 Hannah Beasley
vanessa ann
this is a tale
of two star-crossed lovers
with a love so powerful
they tainted the heavens
with bursts of colours

they were never meant to be;
mischievous little kids
finding love in sinful glee
in laughter, between dreams and reality

and though it was lawless,
they found solace
because in every prison,
they found a rhyme and a reason

but even for a love so great,
they could not escape
the fates’ wrath and envy

destiny pulled on their threads
cut them loose, thrusted them into misery;
for their memories were wiped clean,
but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been

the boy exiled in a far off land
across the pacific sea
the girl trapped in her need to break free
in a realm both boring and bland

ensnared in a labyrinth of woe
the lovers yearned for anything—
for something, for someone,
to obliterate this endless longing

the gods answered them
in the form of two loved ones
polished in every edge,
a perfect someone

but perfect felt too perfect
and not perfect enough
to fill up the hole
left by a perfectly imperfect

until one day the gods whispered
for the winds to push the two
and the birds to tug at their sleeves
over mountain and sea
even through the darkest valley
so their paths would finally meet

and so they did.

in the flurry of a moment
a pair of brown eyes met
and time was frozen
once more

the two stared intently
as if remembering a broken melody
a lost childhood song
branded as a wrong

the birds fluttered and flew
taking the cursed red fibre
snipped them in two
and the lovers felt all the lighter

it was the girl who spoke first:
“**** the stars.
i don’t want perfect,
i want you.”


eyes dazzling, the boy nodded:
“we’ll invert the universe—
the night sky a blank white
the stars pitch black
the earth moving in reverse”


the fates saw and surrendered
as the stars began to wither
for this love is love
in all its splendor

so the lovers walked away with a promise
under their breaths, they both swore:
“i lost you once,
but nevermore.”



they say no one can rewrite the stars,
so i propose we orchestrate supernovas.
I feel your silky hair through my rough, calloused hands
Your flawless skin softens this hardened heart
Melting away into your arms
Gentle scratches across my bare back remind me,
That I am far from alone in this cold world
I crave this beautiful touch, not between lovers
A reassuring brush of the shoulder and a deserving look
Eyes that sparkle like a priceless gem
A wise, bullied soul with a sharp wit to match
The voice that strikes fear into me, as a conscious into a person
My love, do not mistake this weary traveler for an idiot
Hannah Beasley Jan 2018
Writing out my every thought
For thousands of you I have bought
Your ink spilt on paper, forms such beautiful words
we could write amazing music, much like songbirds
You portray all my emotions
Which could fill many many  oceans
Your ink, it comes in a rainbow of colors
When reading your work my heart flutters
You are, always there when I fall
Help me, for we could build mountains quite tall
Free like a butterfly
You leave a trail for everyone nearby
Beauty in your gracious flight
You are the victor in every fight
Building a skyscraper
As your point dances across paper
Its as if you know everything
You make me wanna sing
You show a world of pure imagination
Proving the beauty of creation
Drawing the blood from my hand
To write stories of wonderland
You are like a bridge of communication
You do this with much confrontation
Spewing life's essence with every swift movement
But staying in the limelight
You shout so loud, without even speaking
brain matter leaking
Leaving every brow furled because
You control this whole **** world
  Jan 2018 Hannah Beasley
Mitch Prax
You are a novel
gathering dust on my shelf
but not because I don’t want to read
but because I’m afraid
to turn the page,
afraid of how you’ll end
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