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 Jun 2013 Jenny March
Denise Ann
Hell is not made of fire.

A lot of people believe that hell is a world covered in flames, with heat that sears through your very being, scorches your soul, and inflicts terrible agony. They say Hell is a place for fiery torment, where fire is a vicious serpent that winds through your existence and seeks to quench every feeling except anguish, but at the same time refusing to let you be conquered by nothingness, keeping you wide-awake so you can feel every blistering sensation.

They're wrong.

Hell doesn't look the same for everyone else. Hell is a multi-faced mirror with countless reflections caging you inside the hollow of a diamond so you can see the glaring facets you refuse to look at. Hell is not always a place; sometimes it's a feeling, sometimes it's an event--sometimes it's a person.

Hell shows itself not only in death. Hell is everywhere--it's just somewhere around the corner of the street, hiding its face behind a newspaper, waiting for you to make the wrong choices. It's just somewhere behind you, an invisible fiend watching your every step, waiting for you to stumble. And once you do, it will laugh at you. You won't hear its sinister laughter, nor would you notice the subtle shift of the ground beneath your feet.

The odds are no longer in your favor.

Hell is cold. Hell is calculating. Hell is terrorizing.

Hell is reaching inside yourself, searching your heart, trying to find out how you really feel--but ending up finding nothing. Hell is opening your mouth to scream but nothing comes out because there is nothing left inside. Hell is the immovable boulder weighing down on your chest, it is the desperate need for the ability to cry, it is the panic and anguish that comes when you realize you can't.

Hell is watching him with his perfect hair and perfect eyes and perfect smile, knowing he isn't even aware of your plain existence. Hell is realizing for the first time that unrequited love is not as romantic as people say. Hell is waiting, waiting, waiting for something you know won't come. Hell is finally getting the nerve to say 'I love you' but only receiving silence in return. Hell is laughing it all away and saying it's nothing, I understand why, all the while wishing you could run to someplace where you can cry and scream without being heard. Hell is falling in love.

Hell is the red mark on your record, the frowns on your parents' faces, the pitying looks on your friends' expressions. Hell is the star you failed to reach, the shaking heads, the consoling pats on your back. Hell is the mocking laughter ringing in your ears even after they've long ended. Hell is the condescending voices echoing from somewhere in the back of your mind, reminding you who you were, who you've been, and who you are now. Hell is laughing at you. Hell is disappointment. Hell is trying and trying over and over and never succeeding. Hell is failure.

Hell is building your life with damning patience, with meticulous thoroughness, with painstaking care, and having it all knocked down to the ground. Hell is desperation, hopelessness. Hell is the blooming rose standing amidst a bed of withered blossoms. It's the touching beauty of life at its most exquisite, the surging anticipation, the reckless triumph, and the next day when you look for the rose you only find a withered stalk. Hell is hope.

Hell is the silent night torn apart by raging screams and flying furniture. Hell is the deafening wail of a child accompanying every insult, every furious, careless word that escapes your mouth. Hell is the empty threat he took as a promise. Hell is holding his hand and realizing it's no longer as comfortable as it used to be. Hell is the sadness weighing on your apartment, so palpable you could wrap your fingers around it and try to snap it--but you can't, because hell is already there. Hell is the silence, the eternal quiet screaming in your ears, as you pack your suitcase, as you stuff in old photographs trapped behind the cracked glass of their picture frames. It's the painful need to sit still and concentrate on breathing because you suddenly forgot how to. It's looking around you, seeing the stripped bed, the empty closet, the unsettling dust floating along the light filtering through the misted windows. Hell is falling out of love.

I could go on about hell forever, and I would never be able to enumerate all of them because there can only be so many words that can describe hell, and there are too many people in this world who see different kinds of hell. I cannot accurately define hell, I don't know much about it. I cannot claim to have seen hell, because I've never been to a place like it before.

But I know that hell is cold.

Because hell is not always made of fire.
The place where we met.
The place where I fell in love.
The place where I cry.
A little tribute to this great website where I found love (although I later lost it), and where I can let all my pain and thoughts out without anyone judging me. Also, thanks to all the readers and followers :)
Assumption of knowing
Knowing only worry
Worrying about nothing
Nothing but regret
Regretful so apologized
Apologized for what was

What was is arguments
Arguments were annoyance
Annoyance made absent
Absence lead to distress
Distress brought sorrow
Sorrow kept silent
Silence lead no where
No where only had dreams
Dreams brought back

Back to where it began
Began with a loved one
Loved one who understands
Understands what love is
Love has no regrets
Regrets not needed
Needed are caring hands

Caring hands accept
Accept who one is
One is only human
Humans make mistakes
Mistakes can be forgiven
Forgiven and forgotten
Forgotten mistakes end
if you only knew how much i really looked at you
even when you turn your head away
my eyes are always there to stay

and i swear i wasn't at your house last night
and i swear i didn't mean to give you such a fright
you see i thought you were sleeping,
maybe even dreaming of me
but then i saw those pearly blues
when you woke up confused
and i knew it could never be

cause baby we're all just statues
stuck in a time and place
baby we're all just statues
waitin for your pretty face
one day i'll take my first step
come a little closer
maybe kiss your neck
but until that day comes rollin by
i guess i'll just be the statue guy

and i saw you yesterday once again
with that stupid guy you call boyfriend
and he kissed those lips so wrong
the lips i've craved for so long
and i swear i wasn't at his house last night
and i swear i only meant to give him a fright
you see i thought he was sleeping, dreaming of you
but then i saw those dull brown eyes
when he woke up surprised
and i knew he was no good
for you.

cause maybe im just a statue
but now he's one too
and maybe im just a statue
who's fallen in love with you
thoughts of you have consumed
every little drop of my sanity
every ounce of my dignity
and i do not object

you lit up my soul
and that light shines
through my eyes
with admiration for you

and my adoration for you
seems like outer space
there was never a before
and there will be no after

we’re satellites,
you and i
floating endlessly
and time does not exist

there’s something celestial
about your eyes
that has me convinced
you were born from the stars

I am a slave to
the immortal beauty you possess
and the way you illuminate
my existence.

let me be the Moon
to dance around you, my Earth

but instead you dance with me
and we are something otherworldly
My hand, the pen
Cannot conceive
Words that cause
The make believe
To spring to life
And take away
The dark which fights
Like hell to stay
And so my heart
Swells with sores
Poison seeps
Into my pores
I lie down
In my made bed
Distorted dreams
Inside my head
 Jan 2013 Jenny March
Ryan B
You're the light in the morning,
the stars at night;
the first person I look for,
and the person I can never find;
you left me here, and I thought I was happy,
but saying I'm happy isn't quite right;
you are my other half, in a funny sort of way,
which makes you always on my mind
nearly night and day.
 Jan 2013 Jenny March
Jack Turner
It's Christmas time of the year again,
All I can think of is you.
There's all of this festive cheer in the air, and
All I can manage is a lesser feeling of blue.
Life without you really isn't anything -
Not that it was ever cracked up to be.

With all of this goodwill and love around,
I am bound with my thoughts on you,
Wishing that I could spend these days with you -
That I could hold you close these cold nights through.

None of which is meant to be,
So I will hold you in my thoughts
And send out a prayer in holiday cheer,
Wishing you a Merry Christmas,
And hoping that you and your family are well.
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