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 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
Black and Blue
She often thought that, in a morbid way, loving someone was like death.



The parts of yourself that you reveal and give, wrapped in silver tinsel and flowered paper, can be broken, stolen, or returned worse for wear.



Sometimes love waters the beautiful parts of people, allowing them to grow and twine their way into everyone’s smile. However, the same effect can be gained by the famine that rejection brings, drying the beautiful parts until they are no more than the 
husk of the darkest humanities seeping into snarls.



What makes love dangerous, is the allure of how easily you could get hurt, rejected, tossed carelessly aside, or broken, but you’re taking a chance on another human being having the compassion not to abandon you in the gutter along with every other heart they have wrung dry.



The trees we carve with hearts and initials are almost like our tombstones, waiting for the date to be scribed underneath, of when he stopped loving her eyes or she stopping drying his tears.



Our memories are deposited regretfully at the sites we have marked with our love, the diner where he first saw her drinking coffee, the library where they shared their first kiss, the grassy patch where they lounged and discussed their children and wedding. The memories and emotions we leave in these places are the fragrant lilies and roses stained with our tears that we drop at the grave site; allowing ourselves to be overcome with the sting of losing someone forever.



After you lose the emotional connection with someone that can rarely be re-forged, you go through the grieving process that’s special and selective for every individual. The length and intensity of the grieving stages varying on amount of betrayal, nostalgia, affection, broken trust, and anger that came with the initial passing. Sometimes it’s the denial stage that clings, your mind intent that they will walk back into your life next Tuesday like a maelstrom hasn’t wreaked your lives. 



So, in a morbid way, she often thought that loving someone was like attending a funeral to look at a mirror box, with your heart nestled inside someone else’s hands.
What can be done to consume this feeling of emptiness
What can we done when we're broken into a million pieces
And how do we fix the broken pieces together
How do we learn to love again

What do we believe in .. when there's nothing left to believe in
What do we hope for when all dreams are blurred
How can we heal and forget the wounds when they plague our minds
How do we become blind to the scars that are left behind
What becomes inspiration when the faith fades

Are happy endings hopeful in nothing but chaos
How can we keep hoping when reality promises noone a happy ending
How can an immaculate being hurt you so profoundly
And how can you still be able to love him

When will the light outshine all the darkness
And when will the swift wind destroy all this confusion
When will stars align
And When will the moon shine at it's greatest intensity

How do we escape misery's stifling grip
And how can a fear so consuming be diminished
Can this sinking feeling be controlled
Why do we become so numb
How do we leave when we're being pulled by the forces of profound emotions
And the longing of a fragile heart

**But why .. do we all strive to be loved when love becomes so detrimental..
 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
Samantha Vaughn
Did you feel that? There was a tremor through my skin,
A tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibration of music, rippling with the bass;
I always thought the game, was all about the chase.

But now that I’m here, I feel the music chilling down my spine;
And all that I can think of, is how to make you mine.
But my eyes just can’t seem to focus, with this eruption of feeling,
They say that music is feeling, but it’s through the magic of hearing.
They might be right, but these needs have moved to physical healing.
See I’ve suddenly got tunnel vision, and it’s toward you that I’m steering.

My hands are getting clammy, but my vision is getting clear.
All I know right now is that I need you; I need you closer than near.
Closer than close, close to touch,
I need it right now, and I need it so much.

Did you feel that? It’s a tremor through my skin,
This tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibration of music, now tickling my bass,
Sometimes the game we’re playing, doesn’t require the chase.

Just a touch, just a kiss, just a small simple stroke,
You’ve got my body convulsing, craving to be choked.
Breath’s getting shallow & emotions dripping thick,
These pills that I’ve taken, have given quite the kick.
See my frequency is rising, and I think yours is rising too,
So I’m watching your body, and I’m waiting for your cue.

Did you feel that? There was a tremor through my skin,
A tingling sensation, coming from within.
The vibrations of music, weaving in and out of the bass,
I now see the game that we’re playing, was never about the chase.
Wrote this after meeting the love of my life.
(c) Samantha Vaughn
 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
berry
when i was a little girl -
i believed my daddy was the smartest man in the world.
he knew everything. everything.
if i had a question, daddy had an answer, and a good one.
always.

his degree was in biology,
but he preached from a pulpit every sunday.
his friends, colleagues, congregation, all knew him as Pastor Brett.
to me he was just daddy -
and he was the smartest man in the world.

on days when i couldn't understand my own head,
(which were, and still are, very often)
and got frustrated with myself to the point of tears,
he would kiss my cheeks and promise me i wasn't stupid.
and coming from him, the smartest man i knew, that meant the world.

as years passed and i grew, my naivety remained with me,
and so i thought i was too smart to fall into life's traps.
i fell. i fell fast. i fell hard. i fell often. and i shattered.
each time, the smartest man in the world picked up my pieces
and reassured me i was still welcome in his home.

he never loved me any less, much to my bewilderment.
however, as my faults increased in frequency and severity,
he picked up my pieces now with weathered hands and weary eyes.
his smile was weaker, and a deep pain stirred in the chocolate irises behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

my deception morphed into vines that constricted and twisted and choked out the truth.
he poured out his love onto an underserving me, and said that God would still forgive.
but i, daughter of the smartest man in the world, am a fool.
and by my own two hands, i continued to sink.

he leaves me to pick up my own pieces now, not loving me any less,
but too weak, too exasperated, too heartbroken to do it himself as he always had.
he is done. he loves me and i know it. he shows it. but he is done.
my tears bore him. my half-true stories and pitiful excuses move in one ear and out the other.
he is stone-faced, no longer shocked by my confessions so i leave them unspoken.

his kisses, sear my flesh. his love burns because i know i don't deserve a single shred of it.
i wish he hated me. i wish we could fight. that would make things easier, right?
but he won't. he just won't. he loves me so much and i can't stand it.
but he is done. i broke my father, and his heart, for nothing.

he asked me why i do the things i do,
why i don't just stop it. why i keep on hurting him and my mother.
i didn't have an answer. all i had to offer the smartest man in the world,
was a dry mouth and empty hands.

m.f.
 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
Suzanne Penn
I am softly treading...
on newly sown soil
where the seeds I've planted
are just starting to grow

I'm quietly listening...
to dreams that are awakening
letting me know
I have so much to do...

I'm carefully watching...
my intentions unfold
yesterday's hopes, desire, beliefs
are now
tomorrows realities...
I'm gleefully gathering...
all the tools That I will use
to build my life anew
and finally discover
my true self...

I'm whispering to myself...
affirmations and intents
re-taping my inner voice
finally becoming
my own best friend...
 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
Hadley
Monsters
 Sep 2013 Mr Jay
Hadley
I have tried it all
To get the monsters in my soul
Smoking them out
Drowning them in alcohol
Poisoning them with pills
Putting them to sleep with green happiness
Bleeding them out
And yet every night they whisper
I am here
I will always be here
As long as you are here
 Aug 2013 Mr Jay
Debra A Baugh
caught a young lady staring at me
one morning; with a look that said  
I want you, but, I was with my wife;
she was beautiful and I thought to
myself, if, I wasn't married I lick her lips

then...

the next day went to the supermarket,
and there we caught each others eye; I
couldn't look away, she winked with a ****
smirk, under my breath I had to repeat
I love my wife

but...

that didn't stop me from wanting to flirt;
every time she moved her buttocks jiggled,
inwardly I cupped her jiggle and she giggled
moving closer; her scent hypnotic to say the least,
calling me to touch her taut *******

which...

sent a ripple up my spine and my mind whined,
but, the vision of my wife popped in my head as
I saw myself sliding one finger at a time across
her luscious behind; wanting to wine and dine,
her movements were about to blow my mind;

again inwardly drooling...

I cut a corner in the produce aisle to settle my
ache, I felt lust showing all over my face
I followed her down each aisle acting like I was
looking for something and bumped into
her on purpose, just to get another whiff of her
scent, for a man I blushed flustered; stumbling
over my words saying excuse me

in the meantime...

I wanted to just taste her full lips; run my hands
through her long curly locks, she turned towards
me saying it was ok

but...

my wife popped in my mind again, I blinked twice;
fore, she had no clue of what I wanted to do to her,
mentally and physically, if, I didn't have a wife; she'd
never knew to this day I still salivate whenever I see
her, she was definitely a sight to behold but, she
wouldn't give me the time of day, especially, after
seeing me with my wife

anyway, a man can daydream

— The End —