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  Jun 2014 Patricia James
Kurt Kanawa
is not to be silent
but to have voices competing
drowning each other out
so that we only hear the words
coming out of our own mouths

it means not to be cold
but to be scorched with the frustration
of being misunderstood
and pushed away
watching as our bridges burn
before they have ever even been built

it means not the darkness
but the light, blinding light
of the stage we stand
where we must deliver our lines
and play our parts eternally
never to remove our masks

it means not to be broken
but not being able to break
even when we want to
always on the verge of crying
we let our eyes swell but never flow
pretending everything's fine

and as i look from eye to eye
i know that i am lonely but not alone
in this cageless prison
  May 2014 Patricia James
Trisha
I want you to come back,
Miss me like I miss you,
I wish everything falls in place,
Like it was earlier,
Those memories we've had,
Are the best ever,
I keep thinking about,
The days we were together,  
All the gifts you gave me,
The cute letters you wrote,
I want you by my side,
I miss the times we spent,
The long phone calls,
Exchanging cute smiles,
I want you to hold my hand,
Kiss my forehead,
And tell me you'll be there,
Forever and Always,
But I just keep hoping,
Even though I know,
We're never getting back.
I read a similar poem over the internet and so I gave it a try to write a similar one
  May 2014 Patricia James
Trisha
I just feel so alone,
and it's not that I need someone,
well, it is
but not someone certain,
just someone who will,
give me that love,
I crave,
Anyone.
But I haven't been loved,
for a very long time,
and I realize that I now,
I have shut everybody out,
until there was nobody left,
to love me,
I know now, that I am a human.
that I, too, need a lovers touch,
and kind words,
that I am no different,
that I crave affection.

I don't like being human,
I don't like destroying myself,
I don't know why.
Tumblr inspiration.
Patricia James May 2014
Life is loosely based on losing sight of the silver lining on the cloud,
On trying to hold on to that one distant memory that is slowly slipping away.

It’s based on the challenges that come, and finding their solutions.
Also, it’s based on the days when inspiration is lost, or when you get that one special feeling and try not to lose your hold of it. Eventually, you hope not to be grasping at thin air.

When you find yourself doing this, the thrill you've felt steadily seeps out like a drenched sponge being pressed until dry.

Life is a flower on a continuous cycle: sprouting, growing, blooming, withering, and soundlessly letting go of existence and time on earth, eventually giving way to whatever one believes comes next.

Furthermore, life is loosely based on its connection to death.


l.j.
  May 2014 Patricia James
billiondays
Are my words not sweet, and
my sentiments not worthy?
Is my smile too dull, or
my thoughts too many?
Is my hair too knotted, or
my eyes too vacant?
Is my smile too worn, or
my heart too withered?
Are my lips too thin, or
my affection too languish?
Is my mind too troubled, or
my personality too difficult?
Am I not lovely enough?

– billiondays
Patricia James May 2014
When I think about you, my mind travels to March.
The time when we met under the great marble arch.
I was in college and you were on tour,
As I saw your face, you held an allure.

I remember you smiling and saying hello.
I had nothing to do, and nowhere to go.
We went out for lunch and we watched a movie.
You invited me to go with you shipping at sea.

At the time, it seemed great; living, boating under the sun.
Spur of the moment and amazingly fun.
I jumped at the idea, naught holding me back.
But nothing prepared me for when I heard that hull crack.

We’d been sailing for ages, I was used to this life.
No terror, no worries, no hunger, no strife.
No fear in my mind, only love on the great sea.
When the ship fell apart, I thought I could not breathe.

I heard all the screams, but it seemed too surreal.
I came to my senses and my mind began to reel.
Water washed over me, I clung at driftwood.
I struggled for air as hard as I could.

When I finally surfaced, my heart skipped a beat.
I saw you away from me, maximum thirty feet.
I paddled so madly; I paddled for love.
My heart sank like our ship when you sank from above.

I was going quite crazy; I was hurt, I was damaged.
As the helicopter came, I felt trapped– unable to manage.
My true love was gone; there was no going back.
That nightmare, that sound of that sturdy hull, “CRACK!!”

It is all I am left with. I have nothing more.
My dear, how I miss you. It is you I adore.
I will always love you, as promised in March.
That day I fell in love under the great marble arch.
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