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From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
  Like little ripples down a sunny river;
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
  Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever.
I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
After I pay off my school loans
Whenever my banker pleases
To let me out of the contract
With its usurious interest fees
And I am sure I will get there
When I am down on my knees.

I’ll have my Republican Bible
With its verses edited wisely
To exempt all the white folk
From behaving quite nicely
And making sure welfare
Is only for rich white neighbors
The rest are not allowed in
Our society except as laborers.

I am sure that Republican Jesus
Will welcome me quite warmly
For supporting the death toll
Of our Christian Soldier army.
He will be so delighted that
We vilified ungodly abortions
And how we treated those awful
Poor mothers and their orphans.

He will have to be delighted
That we held back the riches
We gained from our warfare
Ignoring our soldiers in ditches
Or maimed in those battles
We know you wanted us to wage
In the name of Republican Jesus
Out of our holy sense of rage.

Republican Jesus surely will
See how cleverly we diverted
The money to the richest people
Not the soldiers we deserted.
And, how only the people who
Did not need help financially
Got all the extra wealth we had
And we made sure of it annually.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
And I’m sure greed and bigotry
Will just tickle him to pieces
Because it says in the Bible
The only people who will get in
Are the people that look like me
And vote for all the same men.
"To me, she's the entire ocean. To her, I'm just a puddle, ***** and lifeless."

"You should give it a try. You know, test the waters, explore the beauty of the ocean."

"The beauty of the ocean is indeed very enchanting. But if you don't know how to swim, you will drown and eventually die in the depths of its beauty."
What can I say?
I am floating in a cove of pain,
Of forgotten memories and lost quotes,
The silent sobbing no one hears.
Alone in my bed, I am silent.
No one hears the way I weep,
For me, for all of them.
I can no longer remember,
The way laughter truly feels.
I miss laughing until I cried.
Now I just start crying and keep crying.
My face can hold a smile for hours,
Just waiting until its safe to remove it.

What do I do?
I am drifting away from everything, everyone.
I am shutting off my heart,
Closing down my head.
Letting myself fall into the void,
That is easier than feeling.

What could I do?
The numbness keeps me alive.
The feelings would **** me.
Loss,
Misery,
Loneliness,
Suffering,
Regret,
Chaos,
Destructi­on,
That is all I have.
The numbness takes it away.
Silents the swirl of anxiety.

What do I say?
When asked why I never called,
Never texted,
Never replied.
My mind is complacent.
My phone unimportant,
My life irrelevant.
My soul withered.
A man with no home saw the anger in our eyes and asked if we had just been in a war, not knowing that the war still rages on. Our home is a war zone where the kitchen tables rumbles like thunder and the walls shake from bomb attacks. Sadness fills rooms with saltwater and white sharks feeding on misunderstandings and words that cannot be taken back ones spoken. A man with no home knows more about homes than the people living in them. Maybe that is why my father will not acknowledge the homeless.
Written: July 15. - 2015
???
the bottom of the bottle doesn't have any answers
but i drain it anyway
i can't find jesus in this burning on my throat
but i sin in hopes of seeing him
i'm ripping my own heart out and it hurts so ******* much
but not as much as you did
tomorrow will be loud and painful
but it is today and it was yesterday
spinning like a top and the walls look like your neck
but kissing them won't bring you back
oh
how
far
i've
fallen
my names sad juliet and i care what you think
A little boy is afraid of darkness. To overcome the fear, he decides to lock himself in a room full of darkness. Everyone else will obviously think he's crazy not knowing the reason for his actions. If and when he finally decides he's not scared of the dark anymore and he's ready to go out, it'll take him a long while to adjust to the light outside of the room. Or worse, he'll decide he likes the dark better than the *light.
I wrote this a few months ago when a friend of mine needed advice. If you can relate it to any event in your life...
To M.

See, I should have kissed you.

I should have kissed you when I had the chance to. Should have pulled you closer, stood on my tiptoes, my hand tightly clutching your neck, and kissed you full on the mouth. Should have run my fingers through your spiky hair, smiling as your arms closed around me.

I should have found you, the taste of tiramisu still on my lips, and I should have kissed you, giving you a taste of the happiness in a box that you'd handed me so timidly.

Your voice still rings loud and clear in my head, I hear it when I read your messages, that distinctive accent, eyebrows raised, cheekbones moving. And that smile, so sly and cunning, your lips slightly upturned. I *should
have kissed those lips when I had the chance to do so. Then and there, among tears and sporadic, almost desperate hugs, I should have kissed you. When you held on to me for just a little longer, your hug tight, your hands running along my back, I should have traced your lips with mine. I should have sealed that promise with a kiss.


"You never see a person only once in a lifetime," you whispered in my ear, your breath tickling me. "That's a promise," I choked on tears, "You hear me, it's a promise."


I should have kissed you; instead, I hugged you once again as you held me tightly and rubbed my back. I should have just reached out. Fate or whatever mystical force there is ******* us up pretty badly. If only I'd met you earlier. If only I'd known you before I got mixed up with the wrong person. I wish we'd had more time. I wish I'd done a lot of things differently. My heart drops in my stomach every time you say you miss me. Your voice will fade away. I won't be able to conjure up your face without looking at pictures, and all your familiar features will be blurred by time and memory. The ephemeral imprint of your skin against mine will soon be gone forever. My heart will grow cold.


The taste of tiramisu will linger, though. Always in the back of my mind, the unanswered question of what it would be like to taste it from your lips. Have tiramisu some time. I hope it tastes like me. You never see a person only once in a lifetime, but perhaps you only have one chance to kiss.

I should have kissed you.
Regret is bitter. "You are my favorite what if, you are my best I'll never know."
if you could touch my skin
you would feel all i am within
and if your touch is real
you would feel all that i feel

if you look behind my eyes
you would see what i am inside
and if your sight is true
there's a chance for me and you
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