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  Feb 2016 Monika
Adrija
it’s the throbbing kind of pain,
so unlike the burning you are used to
a timeless ache,
that jars you to the core
so different from the fire that
you built yourself from
belying the strength of the armour,
that guards the tender fabric of your soul.

and you knew you were made of stone,
but darling, stone always crumbles
though born of lava,
it turns to dust
and how can you be the exception?
about a person who has always been emotionally strong, who finally encounters something they cannot handle
  Feb 2016 Monika
Adrija
A river's course, a water's flow,
Slow, then fast, never ceasing -
Time soothes, heals, lets you grow,
Warms you up, keeps you believing.

Another day it rips, it tears,
Soft yet vicious, teeth bared -
Draws blood, and lets out fears.

Time is less than a friend.
  Feb 2016 Monika
LJDC
After all the years,
You see the same sky,
You shed the same tears,
You never tire to try.

You memorized your living,
Keeping your track by the stream,
Staying at the road you’re following,
Then you’re burned-out of the mainstream.

You yonder away,
Away from your flow,
From home to astray,
Not to hurt but to grow.

You made yourself anew,
I am very proud of you.
Finally free...
  Feb 2016 Monika
cwhite
My choices would have taken me to a differnt place.
   Therefore my decision led me to where I am today.
   My struggles battled my strength.
And my fears controlled where I went.
  But now I have cleansed my soul. And my conscience has  been freed from the carry of  dead weight. 
   I can now smile as well as keeping my faith.
   I am so thankful
for all that I have today...,
  And with that I can truely say ,I am happy to be alive...As the tear fall  from my eye...
  And did I mention ,that
  GOD is a great guy...
THANKFUL.....
  Feb 2016 Monika
Anthony Carrasco
I've been in some pretty big fights with the people I love the most in my life, yet time after time we find ourselves unscathed, undamaged, and unflustered. Patching the pain I fortuitously cause others isn't some errand I bitterly await, it seems like more of a human duty.

I never have a hard time fixing things that are broken in my life. A glass shattered on the floor this morning, & now it sits stitched flawlessly on the shelf.

It just feels right to leave something the way I found it, or at least try my damnest to get it near perfect. It really is the try that matters.

And I just don't understand how it can be... so easy for me to say I'm sorry, while it's somehow so easy for you to unapologetically lacerate every inch of my sympathetic soul.
Fixed a friendship today, even though it felt pretty broken. Just made me think of how much I deserve an attempt at an apology from the subject of all my poems. The structure may not be poetic, but the thought is.
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