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Sometimes we have to go through the brutal process of letting go
And saying goodbye

Even if the other goodbye
Was said long before you were able to form the words
“I wonder what it’s like to love you.” You say as we’re lying in my bed.

“I wouldn’t know,” I say, “I don’t think anybody ever has.”

And you give me a pitiful smile, the kind you always give when I
say something so negative about myself.

I guess I’m glad I’ve come to think of it as ‘commitment’ rather than ‘pity’.

I’ve let myself drown in you. I let myself become lost in your lifeless eyes

and I’m filled with regrets but I don’t regret a thing. Maybe I Regret Breathing.

You’ll let my ghost linger, just for awhile longer. You’ll let me be real to you.

And as I feel the smoothness of you silk black hair in my hands, I wonder

if I’ve ever really loved you or if I just loved how in love we could have been. The agony of loving you won't let me die.
i miss you always, daffodil.
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
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Fading
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
-
I am losing myself
just like how I lost everyone else

Slowly, painful, little by little
then all at once
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
TS
I stay humble, I work hard, I don't complain.
I do my absolute best. I take the worse and give people the best. Even when I haven't slept I'm happy to do anything for anyone. Then it happens. I'm forgotten, alone to be used by any and all. I want to be a common thought, something that happens right away, at what cost do I have to give to receive it? I've followed my own path but have picked up so many strays that do not replenish what they use. I am forgotten forever to be abused.
Life wiped from the surface, to become no more.
Eyes gentle and shut.
Shallow breaths have all but stopped.
Eyes still gentle and shut.
Hands still, with no hope of moving.
Eyes gentle and shut.
Legs side by side each other stationary and immobile.
Eyes still gentle and shut.
Wine-coloured liquid pools around him. A toast to the life beyond.
Eyes bolted closed, to never be opened.
His eyes remain gentle and shut.
This is one of the poems taken from my Creative Writing portfolio 'Time is of the essence'
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
eF
Puzzle.
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
eF
The words just don't flow.
Like pieces to a puzzle,
With no where to go.
Ive been blah lately.
I have no motivation to write.
Feel like I've lost my spark.
Feel like nothing flows anymore.
The words rhyme.
But have no purpose.
I feel the same.

Trying to keep this outlet alive..
He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
in memories of the dearly departed.

He said that he felt like crying,
but he wasn’t going to cry
Because if he did,
he might not like the taste of his tears
Those loose cells in the tears
is mostly of his mother and father.

He resented  them for not aborting him
He wishes that he was never was born.
Due to the facts that all his life he was scorned

He was in and out of intuition
Always in a state of confusion
Month too months he never saw the sun
He never felt the rain upon his face,
Only long session with the nurses and the
Physiatrist who thought of him as a disgrace

He recalled taking the train for the first time at age fifteen
And that didn’t turn out as expected,
He wets his pant, so he sat in his seat and slaps his head furiously
He was spanked by the nuns, ridiculed by Sister Margaret the head hunter,
Got a huge ****** thermometer roughly up his **** by a ******* dude
Suffered daily due to his severe autism behaviors

He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
of all his childhood abusers:
Sometimes we just have to tell the stories of the ones , who can't
life is not easy .. for most
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
Banana
When I'm high it's not that I'm less sad-- I just feel the sadness in a different way... and somehow that helps.
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