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I want to say I'm an unopened novel on your bookshelf,
but that would mean I'm the Harry Potter series
(if I remember correctly)
and I might be, I wouldn't know -I've never read them,
but I've been in your hands enough to be a bit worn,
and there could've been so many chapters of us
if you had just opened the first book.

I'm an encyclopedia of a subject
you never got interested enough to read;
so much information, so much to learn
but my cover is plain, and my words are complicated
and there's magazines on your brother's dresser
of beautiful girls and little words,
so why would you ever waste time on me?

But I'm a wine-box full of scripted letters never sent,
and you're downing liquor as if to forget something,
and I hope you never try to forget me.

I wish you downed me like you did of that bottle,
but like old-wine, my cork was tight
and you didn't have the patience to open me.
Old wine has more flavour,
at the surface I'm sober;
at the core, I'm drunk.

We could've fallen in love
if we had taken the time to learn each-other;
but we started as strangers, and ended as strangers,
except now I'm left collecting dust on my own shelf.

I've been writing letters to a stranger
I swear I could have loved.

(NJ2014) (© All Rights Reserved)
I want to believe you,
but I don't.
I want to hold you,
but I can't.
I want to kiss you,
but I won't.
I want to let you go,
but I've tried.

I'm a second chance that never comes,
but maybe, just for you, I'll stick around for the third.

(NJ2014) (All Rights Reserved)
It was us against the world
Now and for forever
You had my back
And I had yours
How could you just throw it away
Like you didn't even care
I thought we had something
I guess I was wrong
You broke me
Then left me to pick up the pieces
 Feb 2015 June Phillips
Robyn
I know you love me
And I was silly
To ever think
You never could
new, warm, cozy
became
threadbare, faded hope
that -- with each wash --
became weaker.
i held on until the holes caused blisters,
and regrettingly disposed of my
tattered protection.
barefoot, i feel everything.
what kind of socks walk all over **you?
 Feb 2015 June Phillips
Gossamer
And I felt my lips crack,
broken from the cold
and lack of contact

And I felt my heart crack
two nights ago,
bare legs sprawled on the tile,
heaving,
throwing up everything
that didn't make me forget
about you,
and you would never love
a girl like me
and I don't
blame you.

You can feel your heart breaking.

I watch you walk away
and wonder how you don't know
how much I love you,
because I've all but run to you with
arms wide open,
screaming "YOU MAKE ME WANT
TO CHANGE MYSELF TO CHANGE THE WORLD
TO BE OKAY TO BE FREE TO BE
IN LOVE AND NOT BE AFRAID YOU MAKE
ME FEEL ALIVE."

You can feel your heart breaking.

And maybe I'll hold you when she breaks
your heart,
wipe away tears when you fall asleep
so the rainfall doesn't wake you,
and maybe you'll never let me be the
one to keep your heart whole,
but you'll always be the one
who shatters mine and puts it back together
all at once, always, I'll feel like this always,
feel my heart breaking.
You know that feeling where you thought that you really love that someone so much, you thought you couldn't really live without him/her?
Then suddenly, as time goes by,
you stop feeling that way without realizing it.
And you don't feel jealous when they were with someone else,
and yet you still seem to care?
That's how I feel about him.

{ E.I }
No
wonder
poets fall
for each other!
Words, a knowing art,
like brilliant suns of day,
shining truth of mind and heart.
They must be careful what they say!
The fall is swift, though it lands in clouds
where poets dream their languid days away...

— The End —