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My skin
is scorched
from when
you trailed
with your finger.
I couldn't help
but to shiver
when you thumbed my lip
and captured
with your own.
My punctured
soul is drowned
by your sweet
haven.
Such infinite
brazen.

-m.b
A crescent moon shines upon their face

as they walk towards their fate together

hands entwined, love in their hearts

they thought they would live forever.


A startling sound in that lonely night

the hearts beating faster than ever

the cold fear rising in their spines

thought they wouldn't break apart, never.


Years after living together

they thought it was trust that bound them

years after loving each other

they thought it was fate who guided them.


It began with a slow trickle

then the gentle gestures went missing

that trickle grew at a steady pace

the subtle hints had begun dropping.


The curtains of trust that were there

now turning into veils of lies

the intimate moments of love that were

slowly turning into agonizing cries.


The night was still young, they had far to go

the road seemed uneven, those hands were alone

the terrors in the trust that were freshly sowed

had begun to take shape, they had started to grow.


Further and further apart they grew

till there was nothing but silence

further and further apart they walked

till there was nothing more than just night's presence.


The story comes to an end at last

with each moment bearing the hard truth

the hardest part was accepting the fact

the trickle of time that had erased their youth.
The crumpled memories lay
in the fractures of time
The smoke stayed inside him
His body just begging it to be kind.

Another drag and I'll be the king
The lies he told himself were true
Smirking, he downed another drink
Reality faded while his dreams grew

Waking up with an ache in his heart
He thought what he lacked was love
Filling it with something he once knew
Stooping to a level he was above

Misery had left his mind undone
He had broken free of the cycle of life
Time flew and he stood by watching
With his own reality, there was a constant strife

Burdened by the norms he knew
He formed his opinions against them
Tired from the things he had seen
He had retreated to his own den

Peeking outside from time to time
He changed his face with every moment
Trying to fit into what he despised
Never forgetting that he was broken

Knowing full well,  the ecstasy in agony
He plunged back into the pool of plight
Wearing a mask to hide the dark truth
For him, even the sun had relinquished light.
 Dec 2016 MarcellinaGrace
Bob B
Ghosts often haunt us--
Ghosts of the past--
Bearing down upon us
Like a winter blast,

Or steadily prodding us
As a constant threat
To see if our response is
Insouciance or regret.

Lurking around a corner,
They're there lying in wait
To test our ability
To circumnavigate.

Appearing out of nowhere
When we least expect them,
They dare us to try
To avoid or reject them.

Though we thought that they
Were buried long ago,
Their recurring visits
Cause more grief and woe.

Sometimes causing panic,
Sometimes causing dread,
They reappear as though
They've come back from the dead.

They take away our breath
Or chill us to the bone
Whether we're in public
Or at home alone.

Sometimes in a nightmare
Or in a crazy dream
We recognize their presence
With a stifled scream.

Running makes no difference.
They're always close behind us,
Or even up ahead;
Somehow they will find us.

Once we stop running
And stand in one place
And grab each phantom
And stare it in the face,

Then and only then
The ghosts disappear,
And we regain our power
And conquer our deep fear.

- by Bob B (12-19-16)
1764

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near.
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