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 Aug 2015 Brooklynn Nights
ryn
How much do you have to hate life,
to not be scared of death?
- ThePoet


I'd be lying if I said I wasn't
Because I really am afraid
But life has only sharp things
Wonder if death is willing to trade...

Longing
...a splinter
Embedded in the recesses of my core
Nestled deep, this tiny thorn
The source of my disconcerting sore

Need
...a shard
That stabs itself deep
Extract it I will not
Think it's worth the keep

Miss
...a knife
With never a dull blade
Stabs itself right through
Pain that will never fade

Want
...a syringe
Injecting the good and bad
Side effects loom
Driving me quite mad

Love
...a stake
Rammed into my heart
It doubles me over
It rips me apart

Life*
...a spike
Impaling without fail
Siphoning my soul
Through the holes in my mail


These are the few sharp things that I own
The only things I've learnt to savour
I've nurtured them large; now fully grown
Always wondered what death has got to offer...
Line taken off ThePoet's "How?", for Frank Ruland's "I Love Doing Lines!" challenge.

This line left me speechless when I first read it. It boasts of so few words but bears so much weight. It's smart, thought provoking and amazingly deep.
I started toying with it and came up with a response.

I am a big fan of ThePoet. I find that her entries exhibit uncanny wisdom, well laid thoughts and they're incredibly captivating.
Here's to you, ThePoet...
Thank you for the inspiration!
.
goodnight scarecrow,
you almost made me love again.
my heart is too broken to nurse another injured soul.
one day I'll understand why we were lost before we were found.
maybe I wasn't good enough to love you from afar.
it wasn't enough knowing we are under the same stars.
we gave up too soon, for that spark to catch it's fire.
then as suddenly as we turned our back, the flame engulfed us all.
is this what not good enough looks like?
it's what I've felt my whole life.
not pretty enough to keep someone captivated,
not interesting enough for a friend,
not thin enough to even like my body...
you could be everything someone asked for and still not be what they want.
when everyone in my life so far has only walked away..it's what I expect now.
but strangers surprise me still,
just once I would like to look in the mirror and see what they see when they look at me.
how is it so easy for someone that doesn't know me to see what everyone else has missed?
maybe that's the problem, they don't know me.
if they did I'm sure they would change their mind like everyone else.
maybe one day...
maybe one day...
There is a silent poem
Being written
Constantly

It's a story
A beautiful story
One of pain
Joy
Peace
Love
Beauty
And so much more

There are no words
None are needed

It's in every broken heart
And hopeless tear

It whispers from the trees
And through the gentle swish of grass

It resides in the twinkling stars
And bright silver moon

It's in every child's laugh
And every baby's cry

It runs in every drop of rain
And shines through every lightning strike

It has no words
But if you listen carefully
Maybe
Just maybe
You will hear the silent poem
Of the universe
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