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 Feb 2015 Jane Echaure
Nolithando
It doesnt matter
If i see it

It doesnt matter
If she sees it

It doesnt matter
If he sees it

It doesnt matter
If anyone in the world sees it

Because until YOU dont see it for yourself

You will never know
You will never understand
The pain you put me through everyday

Whats worse than being hurt
Is that I'm being hurt

By you
Love's misunderstood
By the heart
That’s unable to feel
We give the meanings
So many tags
Yet, love’s above all
We trivialize
And jeopardize
Expectations galore
None that Love wants
Above all our
Laid down rules
It’s akin to freedom
We seem to burden
It with materialistic
Paraphernalia
Love is rustic
Most simple of feelings
Complicated over the ages
Converted to a drama
Scripted by falsity
It’s above those words
Revealing the soul
To a pristine feeling
Thrown into murkiness
Sinister deals
Much effort to malign
Beautiful Love
Let Love be
Away from
Convoluted thoughts
i tell myself
i like being alone,
there's no one to:
impress,
be with,
be ready for,
or even worry about.

but my heart
tells me i hate it
i hate being alone
there's no one to:
laugh,
to hold,
be with,
or even love.

i can't ever seem to decide
if being alone is want I need
or someone to hold me.

i don't care which one
i just want to feel whole
or at least alive.

-r.y.s
I just want to be whole and happy.
 Feb 2015 Jane Echaure
Ayda Zaire
Those that I have loved
Have never understood me.
Those that have loved me,
I have never bothered to understand.
I am homesick
For a place
I have not yet found.
i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

— The End —