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Mar 2011
Torn

Torn between a million places,
Their life always filled with too many faces,
Of loved one's lost and tears they create,
Of shattered dreams consumed by so much hate.

But hate is an extraordinarily powerful fuel
I thirst for more; I am never full.
I loved you once, I loved you twice,
If you'd let me, I'd love you thrice.

Left is Right

I had a dream of you with a ring; I had a dream in my dress.
I had a dream you left for good; you left everything a mess…

I had a dream about a hug, another about a tear,
I dreamed I saw your license plate, of how you left everything, so dear.

I had a dream about our baby, she wasn't even born.
In that dream I saw your face, why did it look so torn?

Was all that passion really just a dream? Was it not so real?
Was it just one of those instances, where I just “have to deal?”

I REALLY thought you’d never leave, that WE would always be.
Back then, my tears would’ve made a sea themselves as I cried myself to sleep.

But now I dream of lighter things...of things that aren't so blue.
Perhaps this means your left is right and this chapter of ours is through.

I may be a dreamer but…

How many times?
How many times does it take one to figure it out?

“It sure makes everything seem so small.”  
Is this love still the same, no matter the gall?

I may hate science and still adore chemistry;
I may loathe the story and still love this scene.
  
I may be lucid but you make me insane.
I’d bet you’d call me a liar if I said I could handle the pain.

The pain of opening my heart for you to come in.
The question of the moment: “Is this really love or just aggravation?”  
  
I may not know my path, I can’t follow a map.
But I have good intuition and this doesn’t seem like a trap.

I may be speechless but my words, they speak volumes.
Saying:
I miss you.
I love you.
I need you.
I want you.
I need you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I wish you…

Is it crazy to think that I can still yearn for you? Even when I’m with you?
Because the truth is, I’ll always miss you,
Even though you’ll always be right here.  
Just know when you say “only two weeks,” to me, it sounds like years.

He Said, She Said**

When they said: “Sometimes things just don’t work out,”
I just wanted to scream and shout,
Pull my hair and stomp the ground.
Maybe THIS would make your judgments sound.

Sound like ration, sound like real?
Sound like something I wanted to feel?
I don’t know what she said, they said,
He said, it said, you all said, someone led…

Led me on to really believe,
That all that passion wasn’t just your sleeve,
Where your heart was residin’
Livin’, breathin’, flyin’, ridin’.

“You’ll get nothing more from me,” you said,
“And if I call you one (dark) night,
Don’t bother to turn on the light,
I’ll regain control in a bit.”

“(‘Cause I’m the one with the better wit.)
And you’re just a girl who has to live with it.”
Jenny Gilmore
Written by
Jenny Gilmore
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