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 Oct 2014 Insufficient
Ocean Blue
Please, come closer
I wish to feel you near
So I can whisper
Something in your ear.
Three little words I call a secret,
A commitment I don't dare to say
But if you press on my heart
You'll feel it anyway.
The scars.
I am covered in them.
The burns
The cuts
The scratches
The bruises
The peeled off  flesh and nails.
They are my t r e a s u r e s.
They show all of the battles inside of my head that I have lost.
They show all of the anger, pain, depression, envy, remorse, guilt, shame, insanity, emptiness, boredom, and tiredness I feel.
They show all of the words I am afraid to say.
They hold all of the I l o v e yous, I h a t e yous, I n e e d yous, and I feel
your p a i n s that I am afraid to even t h i n k at times.
They peek out from underneath my clothing and they rub against everything, reminding me that I am indeed alive and that I am indeed h u m a n.
They show all of the times I've screamed
Been alone
Been scared
Cried
Wanted to die
Had no one to be there
Wanted to stab someone and bash their brains in
Wanted to d i s s a p e a r into t h i n  a i r
Even though they remind me of some of the awful memories,
Being reminded of these memories and the lessons I have learned only makes me
s t r o n g e r
Whatever cruel entity, god, goddess, deity of any kind, gave me this cruel life thank you
You have made me wise
You make me think about how I am not the only person with these problems and how others have worse
But also *******  y o u for hurting so many innocent people and corrupting their
o n c e  p u r e  m i n d s
I will live with my scars and probably add more but I will always think of the cruel fates of others and how cruel the world truly is.
I will think of how grateful I am to have lived and how grateful I am to have not have gotten worse than what I have.
Thank you, you ******* life for showing me the right path
©LogenMichel copyright 2014
The days are cold
My tree of life is filled with mold
Everything I build falls apart
So I end up alone with a broken heart

In my mind time stands still
Still like a window sill
Will true love ever come my way
Will I find somebody that will actually stay

No one knows whats going on through my head
Questions and more questions pop up as I lay in bed
My brain is confused From all the reality that I refuse

If only I had a clue
About what I'm going to do
Then I could snap out of it
But how this is going I don't think I'll ever get out of it
Old Poem after a breakup
 Oct 2014 Insufficient
Sid
I am not amused
Or even remotely enthused.
It's truly sad to see how much
our friendship you've abused.
I don't know what it is,
and that is precisely the reason why I am living...
This life is the disguise of the divine.
Had we known the destination,there wouldn't have been any inertia...
ART*
is in
the eye
of the beholder.

Such as, youth
as one grows older

Warmth,
as love grows colder

And strength,
to go on
once it is over.
Just have to look.
 Oct 2014 Insufficient
Kevin
the first time I saw her,
everything in my head fell silent.
her eyes were reflections of galaxies
so many have gotten lost in before me.
her lips formed a smile like a flickering candle,
but a smile nonetheless.
her hair was let loose like a restless ocean.
she was breathtaking.
and it was when i felt my heart skip a beat
that i knew *i had to have her.
long before light graced
beyond my sealed lids,
a gray lady sat sewing
squares, "for foundation."

her accent was like the
magenta strips with
which she bordered:
a boy needs foundation,
boundaries to teach him
his boundlessness, dirt
in which to sink his feet.

and unlike my foundational
quilt, linked so firmly to the earth,
she faded
first to rose, and then
to silver pink before
                                   dissipating
into dusted petal wither.

i'll meet her on the next go around.

my sixteenth was bitter-themed
and my parents gave me
a mexican blanket,
colored like mother,
aqueous aquamarine
and patterned like father,
those angular and triangular
movements;
woven just like theirs,
to give me rest and
haven on the roads
of my inevitable adventures.

and when i am eighteen
the women of my family
will meet with needles
and spools, and wool
to click-clack and chit-chat
over my adulthood -

and when it is done,
i will behold azure
like the heavens
entangled with warm tones
and spun prayers
to cocoon
in the chill of
carolina's coast
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