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 Jun 2015 PoETE Poet-Pete
niamh
Haunted eyes
And trembling hands.
History etched on broken skin.
In this world
all the people who are down
are gathered from different towns.*
They help one another
to pick up their broken pieces together.
***
i'm happy to be a ***
gathering passing thought
and spill them carefree

don't add an e fore t!

cook words in simple ease
smooth as butter cheese
mix rain and sunshine
stir in restless mind!

the serving unloads me
my dream and fantasy
of salt sugared wit
hoping you once taste it!

An open mouthed ***
words are all I got
need them to feel happy

don't add an e fore t!
---

she

is
defunct
mother of a
strange changeling

she

nurses it upon
her own heart
arterial blood
of deepest crimson
while It
bites the ******

she

accepts her fate
and allows it to feed
until it is bloated
as a leach

she

allows this stillborn
to drain her soul till
there is no longer any

joy nor pain

love nor hate

peace nor fear

lust nor frigidity


she

has named
her child

loneliness

and she

lets it
drain her
til
she
is
empty


soulsurvivor
(c) 6/1/2015

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