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Good books are my friends
Good friends are my books
  Jan 2015 Kelly Rose
ryn
People may tell you to not cry...
I won't because I know the difference.
They think they know when in fact they lie...
I say bury yourself in the deepest of detriments.

They may say that a new day will come...
They only spout what they can't comprehend.
They forget that you are ailing from a broken heart and that you're not dumb.
There's only you in your space, alone you stand...

Textbook responses are all they can offer...
They know not that it'll only make things worse...
There can be no replies so nice and proper.
To rid you of your life, your plight, your curse.

They may even share personal events that they think familiar.
Thinking what worked for them may work for you.
But no two situations are the same, albeit looking quite similar.
At the end of the day, you only owe it to yourself to pull yourself through.

I say feed your pain, grieve hard if you must
Wallow... Dwell... Drown yourself everyday.
Let your blood sear your insides, beneath your crumbling crust.
Let the world around you descend into destruction and decay.

What made me the expert...
To say these horrid, putrid things.
Because I am you and we both lay in the dirt.
Driven mad by the persistent echoes of our own misgivings.

I'm no expert... I am just a broken man.
Telling you to let yourself be caught in your own sad and angry song.
Be weak... Be as weak as you possibly can...
So you could rise from the ashes and emerge hale and strong.
A chat I had with a friend made me realise... "What doesn't **** you, makes you stronger..." And I know this to be true... So...

"Be very weak... So you could be strong..."
- ryn

Dedicated to all the broken hearts out there...
.
  Jan 2015 Kelly Rose
Traveler
High in my sky
She shines divine
I smile knowing
This day is mine

Her ray of hope
Devoured the night
Releasing me from
The perpetual fight

Blessed are my shadows
They're clearly a sign
Out of the wilderness
A new piece of mind

In the coldest of days
In the darkest of nights
A simple display
A new breath on life
  Jan 2015 Kelly Rose
Jon Shierling
There are some people who like history as an interest or read it for a hobby, maybe go to reenactments and museums and such. Interested they may be in it, for those people history is still an external thing, dead and gone, merely entertaining or knowledge giving. For others, we experience the history and it becomes a part of who we are, the flavor of what we learn imprints itself somehow. For us, there is no such thing as an attic full of "stuff". There are attics full of stories, of connections between ourselves and what brought us here. The stories and pasts of others, are also reflections of our own.
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