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Pain.
It hurts so much.
My tears are hot with turmoil.

Strength.
I have none left.
My breaking point is now here.

Fight.
My guard is weakening.
I don't think I can stand.

Crack.
My blood is poured.
Fractured and splintered, I have fallen.

Pain.
It hurts so much.
**Millions of pieces lay right here.
pain, hurt, heartbreak, dark, blood, falling
the vast silence explodes into the night
i am lost in thought,
but found in solitude

God seems so infinitely silent,
and yet the Word spoke
in the void

silence awakens in me a new life
love breaks into me
in the quiet solitude of the night
If you want to know what I write about,
look in the mirror as you walk by.
Do you see your eyes;
sometimes green, sometimes brown,
but always filled with kindness.
You hold your smile there,
that's how I really know you're happy.
If you want to know what I write about,
look at your feet when you have someplace to go.
Do you notice how one foot turns in more than the other?
Putting a bounce in your step;
a bounce that becomes more profound as you get hyper.
If you want to know what I write about,
listen to the echo of your laughs.
You have three different ones;
each bringing a smile to my face when I listen.
They are so infectious, I can't help but laugh, too.
If you want to know what I write about,
look to the creator of your dreams.
The beautiful mind that paints the pictures on your eyelids as you sleep.
I want to know what it thinks about constantly.
Who do you hold in the back of your mind?
What secrets do you keep?
What feelings do you feel?
If you want to know what I write about,
look into your heart.
Look at who you are,
what you do,
what you stand for.
Look at you.
You are my best friend.
You are why I write.
A little rough around the edges but you get the point.
 Feb 2013 Michael Pick
Marigold
She rummaged around in my soul,
as though looking for a pen in a handbag,
and i was left wondering
how words had such a power over my being.

Left drained and fulfilled
Life's intentions bloomed inside me
and at once i felt at home in a darkened room.

Do not panic,
please breathe deep,
I beg you to hold your tongue,
I too have words to speak,
   no one to listen,
       and little faith in Prophecy.
Mild blisters,
create their own balm.
Everything heals.
Everything is as exactly as it is meant to be.
You are fearful,
I understand that.
Why though?
You have blisters,
this is obvious.
Blisters create their own balm,
and as a fellow human-being,
I love you.  
You will heal.
Don't let insecurities discern you.
Everyone doubts what gives them strength.
Breath.
Take it in.
Your life,
you have one.
Live it.
A weeping boy covers his face in shame
He takes the razor and carves his “name”
In his leg

He digs deeper and ignores the pain
He feels the blood but “no pain, no gain”
He cries even harder

He is finished and starts to shake
Not from the damage he did make
But from the words that spin ‘round

He looks at his handiwork in the reflection
He lets it dry and covers it so no one will mention
This word and many others destroy him one cut at a time
Shades of the Moonlight
speak of a different hue
She calls with soothing warmth
Hair waves loosely
An embracing reality of a touch…
Her sweet whisper’s a spell of a
Midnight Solace
beyond seas of the horizon and
sloping meadows
perfection over anything…
Fingertips gently rolling through
cascading landscapes of silk
Flowing unmasked skin
Hair raising… not of the cold
but of sweetness
within the night breeze in each breath…
A scent of a Night Flower
…floating magic in the air
Its Soul touches my Heart
a sensation of oneness
Showering falling stars
basking beneath
a mystical
moonrise…
Mek
Aug08
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