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"It's like they will give you an answer", she whispered to the universe. "Like each star sings to you in another language. You may not understand, but you stay and listen to their quiet voices, knowing there is a solution." She trembled, moving to hold herself. She shook her head and let out a little laugh. "See, that's why I'm not one hundred percent happy. When I need someone to hold me, I'm the only one around."
)(  ()  )(
/\
/\


Moon thru the trees
( The lone wanderer in the hills  )                                                        
­


A dream still lives

A boy still becomes a man

//

a girl that sees

""

a reality is taking shape

++++

++++

Amid the visions of saints

A mighty power roars

The children grow towards maturity

A golden seed within their hands

:::

Simple the song that lives

Pure the life that loves

The moon shines high above

The wandering boy and girl

Who dare to live as a sacred prayer
A bend between
           space and time
To search,
       to seek,
             to finally find
                  the way,
             the path,
     an answer to the end
            Something to believe
         faith in a friend
    Standing tall
         when there's no answer
                at
                   all
     Running to save the day
         when you can barely crawl
            feeling your heart crush
      under the weight
           Pushing and Pushing
        until it's too late
NEVER giving up
           Following your heart
      remembering from the start
            racing to the finish
        Learning to diminish the past
Hoping the love just might last
         through time and space
      and the bend between
           holding strong to your place
   Knowing what cannot be foreseen
        but believing anyway
           Awaiting a new day
    A reuniting with that which you've lost
          willing to pay
      Even the ultimate cost
            Praying it won't come to that
        trying to look forward
                 No longer **Looking Back
I miss my kids, I'm trying to stay strong but I'm starting to feel like I'm dying... Anything you could do to help would be greatly appreciated. http://www.gofundme.com/r5wnpsd5
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 Apr 2015 Jon Shierling
Rapunzoll
My mind keeps pictures of you up on its walls
                            again
                         ­         and again
I find my thoughts drifting down that river of memory
orbiting around you, like forces of gravity drawn
to the idea of us (if there even is an us)

If I could then I’d lock you outside my brain, leave you out there to rot
in the abyss, where your words couldn't penetrate me
and your lips that work like anesthesia forbidden to numb me again

I won't do you the injustice of romanticizing your imperfections
You're no nebular, you're a black hole, a gaping flaw in creation
Your eyes that held millenniums of history, now hold me no future

You made me forget what it feels to have stability
To not walk out of a room and forget why I left
You make me want to shred the skin you touched
Like a reptile, to become reborn, purified from my past.

There never were any butterflies in your stomach, only parasites
but you fed them to me readily like a disease

So no, I won’t dedicate you another love poem
                 no I want (deserve) better
This isn't what love should be
I’ll write you a poem where the words convulse on the page
and you’ll forget to read it (you always do)
© copyright
She says she has none,
but her daddy issues run deep.

She pops pills and binges on tequila
to feel empowered and alive.
Intoxication controls her
and she gets behind the wheel.
The possible danger, legal ramifications;
they do not matter.
She wants the fleeting source to fill the void.
Her actions are impulsive, flighty
she is always searching...
searching....
searching...

She licks her lips, lusciously seductive
and gives away the milk.
The cows move too quickly now,
even for cows.
Then here comes the Crazy Parade
led by the depressed conductor.
Disoriented mutterings, ****** frustrations;
no one watches, no one cares

Her ruin is a full-time job
the 8 to 5 never ends.

She says she has none,
but her daddy issues run deep.
It’s a bubblicious nightmare,
Hell’s stagnant shock waves
converged from eclectic mass and
unsound rip tides.
Graze the protruding vein
poignant BK3,
slit the sheath and
the frame weeps of the
massacre stemmed.
A body fallen finds refuge
paralyzed whimsical mess
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