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She was the fighter, the rebel
Hidden behind cherry lips
Pale and slender, a voice that would make you surrender
With eyes like an eclipse

Carefully plotted schemes she carried,
Delicate steps she always took
Armed with an army of mischievous intentions
She played the good girl well, but she was undoubtedly a crook

Ask any man, he'll tell you so
She had a reputation like no other
If you'd met her, you'd surely wish you hadn't
They call her the Heart Hunter.
 Nov 2016 Keah Jones
timeless
Me
 Nov 2016 Keah Jones
timeless
Me
If you hate me
          Or
You like me
       Both are
In my favour
Because.
If you like me
I'm in your heart
If you hate me
I'm in your mind.
Hate , like,me,both,mind,you,favour
 Nov 2016 Keah Jones
Devon Haley
I put makeup on my little sister.
I laugh as she squints her eyes too much and
mascara goes everywhere. Thin black streaks run along
her eyelid and below it; she goes to rub and
I have to hold her hands from creating a bigger mess.

The sky turns black and we run inside for cover.
She starts to worry as the rain erupts from the clouds
and cringes when she hears the thunder.
I tell her there's nothing to worry about,
and took her hand to lead her out on the porch.
Lightning cracked down so close,
and I scared her even more.

I laid her down in bed; past bedtime.
She was tired and I
didn't think she'd remember but
she asked me to sing her the song I made up
when she was just a baby.
I swept the hair across her forehead as I began the tune.
She grabbed my hand and drifted off to sleep.

She doesn't need me like she used to,
but I'll always be there, just in case.
 Nov 2016 Keah Jones
woolgather
Slashing, dashing,
The blade through my arm.
Bleeding, bleeding,
I don't know why it works like a charm.

I wouldn't be surprised,
If they'd be  disgusted;
They'd want myself revised,
But I'm not just  maladjusted.

Wear that mask again,
That mask that hid your pain with fakes;
And try to clean the*  blood-red  stain;
And keep doing so until your sanity breaks.

I guess that words keep me intact,
Even just to reality, I hope.
Though, with my demons, I made a pact;
*It's no use; I can't seem to mope.
Blood spilled is blood spilled
 Oct 2016 Keah Jones
mk
we always met in between lovers*

we were 16 and broken hearted
he hurt me and she left you
and somewhere in the pain
we found each other for a moment
we were always a moment
never to be more
but for that moment
we didn't want more

few years later and we found ourselves
someone else
and silence prevailed over our bond
and that was okay;
i never told him about you
you never told her about me
we didn't need to
we were a moment
a moment gone
a moment preserved
and those years, they passed
i lost track
of where you were or who you became

until
we met in between lovers

she couldn't be with you anymore
i couldn't be with him anymore
we came back with new stories
new heartbreaks to share
we came back with memories
that we couldn't bare
to lose
we came back with the need
to not be alone for a while
someone to hear the
silence of our words
and so we spoke
and we spoke
and found comfort that we would never be
we could never be
and that was what made it
so easy
and we spoke
about loss and love
and so i spoke
about how i missed his touch
and so you spoke
about the smell of her hair
and so i spoke
about the color of his eyes
and so we laughed
about that day when this happened
and so we cried
about that day when that happened
and we spoke.
and we spoke.
and we spoke.

we always met in between lovers
we would never be lovers
we didn't need to be.

few years down the line
i wonder if i'll see you again
and it's bittersweet
because meeting you
means i have lost another
and i wonder
why do we always meet
not as friends
but
brokenhearted
between lovers?
this one's for you
your eyes are melting
like the polar ice caps
and I am swimming in your sea
there is nowhere I'd rather be
than watching television
while you sleep

I'm tracing the lines
of your smile
I'm watching your
chest fall and rise
for a little while

but I'm hardly
holding a grudge
and I'm not trying to be
something that you'll
just get tired of

it's just that
I love you so much
and sometimes
I don't think that it's
enough
 Oct 2016 Keah Jones
Brianna
It's days like these that makes me want to leave.
To tread through the cold to find a warmth other than you.
Cause you can no longer keep my dead hands from freezing.
It's funny how things written so long ago is still timely now...
 Oct 2016 Keah Jones
Poetria
I was never good with letting go,
always caught hoarding my belongings
and stacking up my secrets
in a safe little box.

I was never good with letting go,
always storing my candy in a jar under my bed,
making sure I had plenty left to spare.

I was never good with letting go,
playing the same old children's games
much longer than the other children my age.

I was never good with letting go,
hallucinating about the people I lose
for a year or so after they're gone.

I was never good with letting go,*
I remember telling you in our confessional,
the diary we wrote in two years ago.

*I was never good with letting go,
and you were the only person I ever told.
The music you sent me is mocking me too.
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