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 Dec 2022 Megan H
M
I never know what say  

a memory of longing
is painful as it keeps

decaying in my chest

putting my love on paper
doesn't take it away
it amplifies the sting
trying to move on

infecting the open cavity of my being

you read my words like you understand
but I'm lost in a memory of what would have been

trying to collect shattered pieces of my own self

emptied and dancing whisked into the shadows
like the end of a dream

feverishly waking up because my feelings weren't received

give them but don't get them
like as if I sent a letter of longing

never in return
I try to write but the words are my tears
drink up
and only then you will feel the same
as I do
 Nov 2022 Megan H
Maddy
She walked slowly displaying grace and beauty with her mistress on the boardwalk
Her paws barely touching each plank
She is eighteen years old as of yesterday
Her owner said it was her last walk
A stunning golden angel will grace the Rainbow Bridge soon
Rest and play well beautiful
Hope a handsome Golden Retriever named Skippy greets you

C@rainbowchaser 2023
RIP Beautiful!
 Nov 2022 Megan H
rey
i woke up this morning
i reminded myself i’m worthy
i don’t groan when i see my mirror
i greet it with kindness
and the reflection does the same
i used to hate what i saw
i used to cry when i looked for too long
i would hurt her feelings
i would cut her skin
i would bash herself
why did i not realize
only by loving her
is the way to love myself
 Nov 2022 Megan H
Veda Laurenski
You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.
All of the quietness
Leads to unanswered
           Questions
Days turn to weeks
Weeks turn to months
Months turn to years
Years turn to decades
Decades turn to forever
It all adds up to
        Never talking
Silence will never be answers
It’s like forever,
 Nov 2022 Megan H
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    I­ will not Mourn for Summer

                                            for Jean in Canada!

I will not mourn for the summertime
Those six sour months of soul-withering heat
Desperate leaves and crispy grass and weeds
Dust devils exhausting their metaphor

Our November is everyone else’s September
With morning mists at last, sweet cooling rains
That ease the wounds of summer’s injuries
A cooling drink for a patient before he dies

Thanksgiving is coming; we will give thanks indeed
If the air-conditioning is silent at last
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