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Madame Eleanor Dec 2014
If I could write you better poetry,
You would hear the sweetest lyrics from me.
But my words never can compare to you,
They're a poor reflection of my sweet muse.
  Dec 2014 Madame Eleanor
curlygirl
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
Madame Eleanor Nov 2014
You really aren't understanding me at all.
So let's pretend it was my leg that was broken instead of my head and my heart.
I've crafted a metaphor-
In hopes you'll understand me better.

I broke my leg and it's quite terrible.
But you still expect me to walk, even though I'm unable.
What is wrong with me?!
I should be able to walk, to run, to not be so helpless and needy.
Even toddlers can walk so why can't I?!

It's easy, you think I just need to try.
I am trying-
But you think I'm lying.
I'm walking on the leg that hurts so much,
To try to please you.
Doing permanent damage and still failing.
Every now and again completely falling to the ground flailing.
Oh not this again!
Get up!
Stop faking!
You're fine!
Walking is easy!!
It needs time to heal, it needs care and time.
I'm acting so overdramatic- it's really a crime.
I'm a disappointment.
I should be better than this.
I should be able to walk-
But my leg is broken and trying to walk on it is just making it worse.
Madame Eleanor Nov 2014
I know I'm being selfish,
I know he's your best friend.
You say I shouldn't be jealous,
Or wish for his life to end.

But, my love, that doesn't change a thing for me.
I still hate him with all I have, unfortunately.
I wanted to give you an ultimatum;
You can be with me or you can hang with him.

But that wasn't fair to you.
So tell me, what do I do?
For I must consider, what is fair to me too.
And stop fantasizing- about slicing his face in two.

If you'd been unfaithful with someone worthy,
I think it'd be different.
If it'd been someone on a level with you and me-
Not this **** of the earth, your best friend.

It shouldn't **** me to see you two talk together.
I shouldn't still wish to watch him die of cancer.
But, my darling, you know I still do.
I can't stop hating him like I can't stop loving you.
Madame Eleanor Nov 2014
Play me a song, my love.
Pick up your guitar.
I think I've got the lyrics thus far.
Play me a tune, darling.
Make it soft and sweet- for me.
I know you like to play fast but for once let's take it slow. Oh oh.
Another unfinished work.
Madame Eleanor Nov 2014
One, *two,
I love you.
Three, four,
You made me love you more.
Five, six,
You **** at faithfulness.
Seven, eight,
I'm filled with hurt and hate.
Nine, ten,
I just wanna be yours again.
Another post-breakup poem about him.
Madame Eleanor Oct 2014
I'm getting better at coping with this ******* but it just keeps piling on.
I'm stuck here singing the same old song-
About how I've been wronged.
About how I've suffered.
About all the things I've lost both to enemies and to lovers.
If I reach out to anyone, those I loved and depend on will surely leave me.
But if I keep it inside, I know I'll lose myself completely.
I guess what I'm saying, is I'm all alone-
And I hate that feeling.
I've lost touch with reality!

Hate, love, love-hate,
Basically it's all the same.
Doesn't matter what they say, they'll all hurt you anyway.
I may sound like a broken record,
But I'm just a broken heart.
I feel like I'm bleeding out,
It's only good for my art.

I had just one who loved me,
And who always treated me kindly.
But he sealed our fate with infidelity.
Oh remove my heart please!
For I tire of it's melancholy beat.
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