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I have never been afraid of the dark woods.
But I have been afraid of the dark.
Funny, isn't it?

But there is something comforting about those trees,
they are just so familiar to me.

It's a void that I can't quite quit,
as I hang onto the dry, rough bark,
and I try to reignite my spark.

Sometimes my depression is the black water.
The water that keep you down under.
Where it suffocates you.

But I always prefer to see those dark trees,
they are just so familiar to me.

When i'm in the trees, I know I can pull through,
but I could make a huge blunder,
and I will be lost and doomed to wonder.

But at least in the water, one can see the light.
It sits at the surface just waiting for you.
But in the woods, there is no sky.

But I still like the trees,
they are familiar to me.

You may be wondering why,
i'm not bothered by the lack of blue,
well in the woods, I can take my time to become new.

I have two types of fears,
the scary, dark waters full of questions,
and the long lasting, sad, dark woods.

But I will always want those trees,
they give a sense of security.

The water tries to end me for good,
it makes my mind part of these dark obsessions,
but in the trees, I'm able to make these confessions.
Don't worry about me,
I'm in the Trees.
 Nov 2014 Brittany Zedalis
Jack
~


Closer yet still far away
my heart does feel your beat
Tempting as a summer’s days
or something quite as sweet

Over valleys long and true
I long for but your touch
Just the very thought of you
does make my world so much

Reaching at a beacon strong
on the horizon’s line
Waking from an evening long
in hopes that your are mine

Falling quick upon my knees
gazing to the skies above
In this world that all do see
please send to me her love

Stars surround my every dream
in solitude to know
Cast off by a tiny beam
this evening’s moon does glow

As it washes on my face
the peace I feel so deep
Memories I can’t erase
forever I shall keep

Touch me from this distance far
and bring my smile to feel
Softness of the way you are
in love it feels so real

Break from this which you do hold
and cast these feelings true
I’m waiting on this moonlit night
for but the love of you
I acquiesce
not because I must,
but because *I love you.
An important distinction.

Love is more or less synonymous with respect in this case.
Worth
How aimlessly
We're measured
Wealth over health
Charity over compassion
Beauty over kindness

True teary-eyed empathy
Means little
A simple distortion
A white noise
In the background
Of difficult solutions
Not yet found

I'm sorry
No one can
Save you from
Yourself
So find your
Worth
And measure
It well...
Traveler Tim
Re to 03-17
You are my pulse
I am your impulse
Together, Pulsating
Take a journey upon the fairest cloud
with me upon
the fluffy white dream,
of clowns laugh balloons float
  all glows

where flower stems we grow on,
    our curved bodies open
where all the years are lost
    today is now, and peace
and permanent
   smiles convey
our innocence.
 Nov 2014 Brittany Zedalis
oni
the ocean looks
so beautiful
that i forget
how to swim

and once i am
caught
within the riptide
i cannot save
myself

although now
i am not sure
that i even
want to
 Nov 2014 Brittany Zedalis
oni
you were so
beautiful
that i compared you
to a flower

but i forgot
that flowers withered
until the day
that you died
She had an appeal, attraction
One in which could never be named
Or known.
Her spirit attracted souls -
The injured, the sore, the sorrows
Of those smothered by darkness.
She reassured those pained of
The life that could be lived.
She painted pictures with her eyes
Of the landscapes that raised her
In the outback hills, riding horses
Freely, wild.
She was a blank page -
She could be anyone or anything
Your imagination could dream.
Her body contorted
Every personality was saved within.
The souls she allowed inhabit
Were of mystic mediums, she was
A passer of all.
She was the poignant reminder of suffering
Of past, present and future.
And it was that vulnerability
That vacant distance in her eyes
Those windows into a soul,
Suppressed, restrained
******* of self.
It was that vulnerability
That sent a small sparrow
Barely out of the nest
To drown in rivers of despair so young.
© Sia Jane
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