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He plays the the sound of a rainfall in Manhattan.
As he chases paper thin skin out of this sorry sob story
another fairy tale in his head.
I think you've had enough for today Alex
why don't you sing of pretty things?
Eyes like coals too dark to see,
do they stop your hands from strumming that guitar?
the tunes you play
the melodies
echo in the absence of your voice
and alex you taste so sweet
sweeter than the alcohol you use to get to sleep
I tell you one day the past will catch up with you;
but your smile looks like a well adjusted childhood.
Something were all surprised to see.
And yeah your fingers pour over the strings,
because
the only time they dont shake is when you play
so play for me
play play play
sing sing sing
dont stop
dont breathe
just play
A series of poems for the boys that have left a mark
somewhere
somehow
whiskey whispers
sound like you

a burning smokey river
-fire down below

kiss my fever

whiskey whispers-
get me through.

r ~ 9/21/14
\¥/\
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  / \
You never know how much you hurt until you feel that pain deep down in your abdomen.. the pain that's so sharp that every single breath makes it difficult for you to gasp for oxygen. My chest has this pain that aches with every thought of you.. so when I'm alone a tear drop falls from my eyes... I'm strong so I hold back a few!

Words cut a person deep, so deep that you'll feel like dying soon.. but knowing there's all ways better days I just smile from all the good things I thought about you.. reminiscing about how we use to have fun made me shed a few tears and actually they came down like a water fall. That my lashes mended together and my eyeliner ran, but at that moment I truly didn't give a ****!

Nine words you said to me made me feel some type of way... never thought I could hate someone the way that I now hate you babe.. you toyed with me and brought fuckery into my life, but in the end you claim that I frustrated you and dnt even try to put up a fight to keep me in your life..

Men only leave you when they've found someone else new... they play with you and you're their puppet till they're actually thru.. Now anger starts to kick in and you're thinking all these evil thoughts..

So instead of wishing bad things.. I just lay here and go deep into thought...

I'll never again allow what happened take place again... so to make my self feel better I'll rather lose thought of you and cry one last cry!!!
I never got to meet my father...
He died when I was nine months old,
But his presence, I always felt
While I was growing up,
Even up to this day...

He would often visit me in my dreams,
Told me not to worry or despair,
Took my hand,
Told me I could go with him..
Which I almost did...

A few times, in high school
I felt a light push on my back
When my Home Economics teacher
Almost caught me nodding...I was
Too bored, to focus on her sewing lessons...

I was always saved from falling
Each time I climbed the guava tree...
I feel some kind of force stopping me,
Standing ahead of me,
Whenever I cross the street, even now...

My late aunt said she found me
Looking up and giggling
When at three or five years old,
I played by myself beside
My father's tall and sturdy book case...

I see his face when I go through
His dwindling collection of
Edgar Allan Poe books, including his
Law books, and a few western pocketbooks left,
All, with mottled pages now...

The matrimonial bed he shared
With my late mother is still in use...
His portrait is hung on our wall...
Today, the fifteenth of June, his birthday,
I look through his eyes, and-----

In silence, I greet him,
"Happy birthday, papa,
Happy Father's Day, as well."
In my mind, my father lives,
And my own stories of him therein dwells...

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Happy Father's Day to all fathers here on HP! ***
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