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 Apr 2014 Kimberly
anonymous999
you will have days where you will feel ugly and won't want to even leave the house. days like this are important because you will leave the house, and maybe in the process you'll learn that appearances aren't nearly as important as you think. one day you will grow old, and it will be okay.
2. some days you will lay in bed and cry for what seems like forever and that's okay as long as you get up after and appreciate the fact that you're happier then than you were ten minutes ago.
3. nobody is perfect and everybody fails at something so try not to be too ******* yourself when you do too because it really truly is not going to make you anything but sadder. try, sincerely, to be as happy as you can possibly be. i love you
 Apr 2014 Kimberly
Natasha
the problem with
being a poet in love,
is that you savour
& trust each word your lover has
without  question.

we are simply in love
with bare literature,
spoken from the lips of someone we hold
in higher regard
than ourselves sometimes.

when you love a poet
each word you utter,
should be a piece of artwork

each sentence,
a highly thought out structure of awe and beauty to leave us seeping
in the warmth of your voice
caressing such fine words

so when deciding that you love someone,
who writes or reads
fill their souls with beauty, memories & truth especially,
for a poet's heart breaks at ease.
thoughts.
 Apr 2014 Kimberly
Tim Knight
FIFTH
 Apr 2014 Kimberly
Tim Knight
If you’d just hold out your arms and lead;
force feed my feet to eat up the floor and once I - promise -
find that rhythm I will tip the tables and turn them so you’ll
be led in a waltz around the place, until your head is hidden by your hair and the dub-step-house-trance coming from the speakers turns to Mozart’s fifth, a symphony that features woodwind and strings in an endless kiss.

Will we dance to all four movements? you say

*Yes, until we become a dance floor nuisance, something more than a blur and an illusion and we're asked to leave.
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Apr 2014 Kimberly
Joshua Haines
You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.
 Dec 2013 Kimberly
Tim Knight
Hook the loops of your bag
between your forearm crease,
let it swing not lag
whilst you walk to see your niece.

Your nephew is ill in hospital,
your parents too ill to help out,
your sister is depressed, it's postnatal,
and you've been there from the beginning, throughout.

Those aren't tears, but the effects of the wind
while you walk nervous to see.
******* in your cold coat you’ve thinned,
but no one will notice nor disagree.

As you’re there to help, encourage with wise words,
short bursts of helpful blurbs will
satisfy your sister just enough
for her to get through.
facebook.com/coffeeshoppoems
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Nov 2013 Kimberly
Paul Hardwick
Found out today
my imagination
can fly
now I do not mean me
I have not grown wings
well not till the day I die
just my mind can fly
now I worry
it might just fly off
on it's own
to where
nobody knows

but still
found out today
I can fly
hope I never fall
for that will break bones
but it so nice up here
I
can see all the coast
Just found today.
 Sep 2013 Kimberly
Pendragon
Every time I close my eyes
I hear a disembodied
Heart beat.
Something is just outside
Walking around.
At night time my fears come
alive
There is no escaping them
They come from all around.
A wicked laugh,
The beating of a heart,
The madding steps
Coming ever closer.
Coming from all over.
My fears come alive,
As soon as the sun sinks down.
No where to hide in this little town.
Even the most normal of sounds,
Turn terrifying when it
Gets dark
Dog barks,
heart stops.
Cat meows,
The tears fall down.
Nowhere to hide,
No way to make it stop.
Every sound I can hear
Brings me even more fear.
Icy chill runs down my spine,
When I hear that dog whine.
Begging please just go away,
Knowing every fear is here to stay.
What's worse is realizing ill
**Never get away.
 Sep 2013 Kimberly
manicsurvival
just another day
that i'll marinate in the pain
that brings me all this heartache
and no matter what
i'm still a **** up
i'm still another disaster
so i'll marinate
in the savory tears
that won't stop rolling down my face
so i'll marinate in your voice
your horrible words
your careless face
so i'll marinate in the smell
of my mother's food
that I wont eat
because i dont want to be nourished
and I question if i want to live
i'll marinate in the grievances that i've listed time and time again
i'll continue to live this life
that i hate so much
that i question every day
and sometimes
the only thing that keeps me holding on
are the words of a singer who doesnt know that i exist
sometimes the only thing that keeps me holding on is him
but he's farther away every day
and i've loosened my grip
because it feels like someone is punching me from inside out
and the pain in my brain hurts so much
that i want to stab myself with an edge so sharp that this punching feeling
wont feel like anything
I hate myself
i hate everything that i am
i dont want to be here anymore
in this sea of fakeness
i want to be with people who understand
i want to rewind three months
but that's not possible so what's the point
**** my life
there are people who love me
and i wish
that i could love myself as much as they do
but no one understands that my lack of a mask is masking
my anger and despair and angst
that kills me more and more every day
that makes me want to take 50 pills instead
of the 1 that i'm prescribed
someone take me away
to a place where the broken souls go
everything I am is too shattered
there's no putting me back together
these shards of glass
have fallen so hard
that they can never be pieced together again
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