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I want to write something more peaceful, leave out the abrupt stops and room for letters to roam free. Nearly every word so close they can almost touch but that wouldn't look right. I want you to not feel dragged along a bumpy road that jolts you every which way and it's not even fun. My worst nightmare would be to make you feel your watching a fuzzy black and white tv screen and feel the helplessness that I feel when writing this.
Love often reminds me that I'm not afraid of hights
or falling -
but I'm afraid of what will happen
the moment
*my body hits the ground
 Jan 2018 Rae E Smart
Jade Welch
My head is an ocean
My heart is a fire
Neither of the two
Can agree with eachother
 Oct 2017 Rae E Smart
Elrow Swift
You who goes by "Lonely"
Yes you, who reads these rhymes
Please pause here for a moment
I won't take much of your time

You see my friend, I'm lonely too
In the dark with paper and pen
So I'm writing you this poem
and signing it "Your Friend"

Though I'll prob'ly never see you
nor ever know your name
I do not need to see your face
nor know your cash and fame

I do not care what color you are
how short or tall or fat
I'm weary of all these parties and creeds
So, for a moment, forget all of that

Yes you, dear friend, forget with me
Inhale this moment serene
where we are not opinions or castes
Just two humans with two glowing screens

Be human with me, simple and pure
For a moment breathe deep and feel free
then should you have the time, and a halfway good rhyme
Perhaps write a poem for me.

Signed,
Your Friend
This one isn't great, but I don't really care. I would normally throw something like this away, but the afterimage of hope made me wonder if maybe it would strike a chord with someone somewhere.  I promise to post more polished verse in the future, but all the same, thank you for reading. -ES
if
if a poet falls in love with you,
you can never truly die.
your lips would be spilled out,
along with perfect puckered lies.
there's always something to love,
even as you sleep in a bed deep underground.
everyone will know what you were made of,
even if you're nowhere to be found.
you are the living breathing poem that all poets need to thrive,
so if a poet happens to fall for you,
you can never truly die.
mortal bodies, timeless souls
my poetry is mine again
no longer influenced by you
no longer influenced by what you do.
and i can say that because you will no longer see,
the words i love you typed across your screen.
and i can say that because you will no longer feel,
the agony, the pain, the scars that were real.
because you left,
it's possible to feel.
because you left,
nothing seems real.
we'll never be just friends,
but that's okay because my poetry is mine again.
Everything has always been about her, silly me to think that would change just because she walked away.
From naked stones of agony
I will build a house for me;
As a mason all alone
I will raise it, stone by stone,
And every stone where I have bled
Will show a sign of dusky red.
I have not gone the way in vain,
For I have good of all my pain;
My spirit’s quiet house will be
Built of naked stones I trod
On roads where I lost sight of God.
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