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 Apr 2020 youcancallmesierra
Jiya
i want to tell you.
i really do.
i'd love to spill my secrets, my issues to you.
yet i can't comprehend it.
i can't communicate it to you.
and the fact you could leave me.
it makes my heart a tearful blue.
you already look at me as if i'm broken.
what do i have to lose?
i want to tell you.
i really do.
yet i can't cope with the fact.
the fact your presence may fade.
vanish without a trace.
except you'd still have that key.
the key that can unlock the darkness in my brain.
this poem is in honour of my teacher who wants me to know that i can talk to him. but it's nearing the end of the year and he may not be my teacher next year. i fear that if i tell him too much i won't be able to cope that next year he might be wandering around with the burden of my thoughts i selfishly put on him without being able to do much to help me. and that i won't be able to connect with another teacher like i have with him. so, in general, this poem isn't really about telling him about my issues. it's about the fact that i might lose his presence in my life and that he's one of the last things that's keeping me sane. this poem is about loss. XD sorry for the mini rant i just needed to get this out there y'know.
It's the same malaise
    the lack of meaning
    the doubt, restlessness
    discontent-- morning

    begins to darken
    noon is a drag
    wrapped in weariness and sighs
     evening hours crack

     in despair--the crying
    for release-- a living death
    the heart is in bleeding
    there's struggle in every breath

    this is the malaise perennial
    a solemn and foreboding heritage
    youth grows old long before its time
    living is akin to being in an animal-cage.
 Apr 2020 youcancallmesierra
Colm
I snap my fingers in a crowded room
Call out quietly to the one of you
And wait patiently for fate to turn
For the clock chimes to unwind
And ruminate aloud

Will your song give me a chance to hear
My words to speak
 Apr 2020 youcancallmesierra
Colm
There is no dark side of a star
Only hydrogen and heat
Careening forward and beyond
The bitter cold of knowing

Unaware of the reality of fall
Unpersuaded by all
Afraid of nothing that has been
We are not falling stars, my friend

No we are not
she lights
fires in

simple men

we don’t ask
for much

just a touch
of sin

we can be
your afterthought

just make us
feel real

the moment

you light
the spark
went for
a walk

in these
dangerous
times

intending
on stopping

at Rite-Aid

hoping to find
some things

I need

and there
it was

one lonely eight
pack of

toilet paper

just waiting
for me

I picked it
up smiling

walking to
the register

feeling in
my empty

pockets

shiiiiit

went home
came back

it was gone

I guess

I have to drive
around tomorrow

looking for my
lost treasure
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