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 Feb 2015 Lauren
Liz And Lilacs
I cannot forgive myself
for forgiving you.
                                                            ­                         
                                       ­                                                I cannot find a way
                                                             ­                      to look past our mistakes.

                                         I cannot look into
                                             your ice cold eyes.

I cannot forgive myself
for letting you do this
      
                                                                I cannot forgive myself
                                                                   And I cannot forget you.
I don't know what I'm doing.
I know exactly what I'm doing.
It wasn't the way she walked or the way she spoke.

It wasn't even the way she was so distant, mysterious, perplexing, an everlasting enigma. It wasn't the way she could never quite articulate the distance from her body or the distance from everyone else.

It wasn't the way she didn't want to be kissed and only wanted *** because it was rough and made her feel something. It wasn't the way she loved ****** art, the way it looked at a ****** scene.

It wasn't the way she could smile. Intense. Everything she did was all or nothing, everything was the intensity of one extreme or the other. The only conception of "in-between " she had, was love.

It was the way she walked away, leaving behind a massacre of broken hearts.

*(you never had me at "hello", but god, what an impression of "goodbye")
 Feb 2015 Lauren
Jan Harak
The Tide
 Feb 2015 Lauren
Jan Harak
When I close my eyes
I see you
You occupy my mind
my soul, my heart

I close my eyes
I feel I'm inside out
the tide washes my face
I am falling from your grace

There is a ladder to heaven
that leads straight to hell
and I guess I shall thank you
for shoving me the shortest way.
 Feb 2015 Lauren
Forgotten Heart
is that
we search
for true love
in others
without knowing
that
true love exist
within ourselves
 Feb 2015 Lauren
Ashley Browne
dad left
for his second tour of duty
on my third birthday

mom kept
a jar full of jelly beans
on the living room coffee table

every night
she gave me one to eat, saying
"when these jelly beans
are all eaten up,
dad will come back home"

sometimes
i would sneak another,
to help dad come home sooner

one night
the phone rang
and i watched mom
wipe away a tear
as she filled
the jar
back
up
On this Remembrance Day, I think of all those who have served, with a special thought for Dad.  And though she has no medals, I also think of Mom; every tour of duty Dad went through, she went through too, taking care of us on her own.

*** Edit: Thank you for all your kind words!  Due to a recent outpouring of sympathy, I feel it necessary to clear up the fact that my dad did in fact make it home from this mission; his tour had simply been extended for an additional 3 months.  Still, it isn't easy being part of a military family - and that's what I meant to show. ***
 Feb 2015 Lauren
Rachael Judd
BUT YOU ARE A WRITER
AND YOUR HEART DOESNT
FEEL THE WAY YOU WANT IT TOO
AND YOUR MIND DOESNT
WORK IN ONE SPECIFIC WAY
AND YOUR MOUTH DOESNT
SAY ALL THE RIGHT WORDS
THOUGH YOUR HAND SPEAKS
THEM FOR YOU
BUT YOU,
ARE A WRITER
 Feb 2015 Lauren
FallenAngel93
I'd be lying,
If I told you,
Loosing you,
Is something,
I could,
Handle.
Girlfriend.
 Feb 2015 Lauren
ryn
Witch's Brew
 Feb 2015 Lauren
ryn
)
       o    (              (             (                  
O   )     (                      )        
            )                (      o
    (              (      (                       O  
   )     o              )   O       )        o
(    O              (     o      (         ) 
)    o                              )    (
**make me a cauldron of a witch's
brew•let it bubble and boil...;
simmer and stew• allow the con-
coction to churn•feed it with raw an-
guish and spiteful spurn•whisper my wi-
shes into shady ingredients•scatter them in
to render it potent•stir it wild...with an iron
ladle with a wooden haft•raucous incanta-
tions of a long forgotten craft•...now give
me a vial of the witch's brew•let it
**** me or grant me the gifts
promised in lieu•
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