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laken Nov 2017
I'm looking for a way
To describe the
depth of the the oceans
In your eyes,
The taste of roses
On your lips,
The light of the sun
Beaming along your spine
And out of your heart
laken Nov 2017
As it turns out,
I’m not very good
at writing broken poetry.

Whatever this pain inside
Of me is, it isn’t
ready to come out.

I have writers block
Like the block on my heart.
I swear it hasn’t beat sense you left.

The words won’t flow,
And neither will the blood
My hands are numb as I write

This **** poetry and
The only thing that will fix
It is the warmth of your love.

Come back
Sorry I don’t know what to feel & this is my process of figuring it out.
laken Nov 2017
i know you have to go
and I know I can’t come with you

this feels like the hundredth goodbye
but I guess we just couldn’t get it right
the first 99

this ache is all too familiar, yet all together, something brand new

this time, my heart is ripping itself out
and throwing itself at you,
like a reverse defense mechanism

this time, I know you won’t come back to
soothe the pain that haunts me

this time you’re leaving my heart on
the floor as it beats its final song
do hear it crying for you?

begging, to let us fall in love one last time
laken Nov 2017
When we were young,
we played in the rain.

We stomped around
like giants,
smashing oceans with our
rubber boat shoes.

Splashes fly...

On to my cheeks.
As they mix with the salty raindrops
that came from the clouds in my eye sockets,
the frozen puddles fill my heart.

Age has taken our joy and
replaced it with longing.
Oh, how I long for those simplistic,
redundant, **** yellow rain boots.

Mostly, I long for the ease of existing,

where we looked forward to the rain
and trusted it not to drown us.

— The End —