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 Jan 2015 rockstar
Fenix Flight
Wooden structure that plagues my mind
I sit and watch them tear you down
Rip up your swing set, crush your slide
It's all to much I just want to cry

You were the one my grammy took me too
My cousins And I ran around your grounds
Our laughter now haunts your gravesite

They said you were getting too old
creaking dangerously and giving kids splinters
Parents were yelling at you left and right
But I rememeber you in all your glory

You're tire swing and glimming slides
the "wave" bridge and the little cubby holes
The ones that were perfect for hide and seek games.

But now you are gone,
torn down and thrown away
Crazy colored plastic now resides
where you once stood so tall

Even though you are gone
You will never be forgotten
The joy you brought will forever be treasured
written for a writing promt from the poetry club I am in
Prompt was:A place from your past or childhood, one that you are fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial!
 Jun 2014 rockstar
Joshua Haines
Dear Talia,


Acid rain has never felt so warm. We ran home today from the Rail Trail, underneath an umbrella, that you called a Monet and that I called home.

Before that, I sat in a cafe, using my heartbeats as a way to count the passing seconds. I frequently got up and left to go occupy myself. Honestly, I got up to try to remedy my anxiety.

Beyond reasonable punctuality, I was forty, give or take, minutes early. I don't know why I was early; I guess I just was really excited to see you.

When I did leave the cafe, I would always be on a mission to improve our day anyway I could.

At first, I bought a notebook and two cranberry juices. I wanted to write you poetry in the cafe, before you arrived. I started writing but nothing worth showing spilled onto the paper.

I wrote you this poem:

There is nothing that calms me like you do.
There is no one that smiles like you do.
I could find escape in your eyes, and home in your hands.
If you could understand me, like how I understand you.
There is no one like you.

The next time I left, I went to buy bread. I thought it was a good idea if we could feed the ducks, together.

The lady who sold me the bread looked like her dreams were passed onto me. She looked at me with hope, and realistic expectations.

When I went back to the cafe, you still weren't there. I was expecting you in a few minutes, so I was okay. I had horrible anxiety because I thought you would never come, despite your not having to be there until three minutes and however remaining seconds. I have a horrible fear of abandonment and it ignores all rational thought.

So I sat down and I wrote you another poem, hoping that you would surprise me while I was writing it.

I wrote this poem:

I love you.
And it's okay,
you don't have to love me.
It's my love and I want you to have it.

An hour passed and you still weren't there. It was okay because I thought something more important came up. I just wanted you to be happy.

Another twenty minutes passed and I decided to leave. My head sunk down to the ground, as I jaywalked across a street of inconsistent traffic. Then, I found the sidewalk. I was walking, not really paying attention to anything, when I found you. My god, your peripheral vision is bad, but you really do see me.

I was happy to see you.

I wanted to say, "I love you," but I didn't want to lose you.

You were wearing this top that looked like it was painted in cream, and you were exhausted from walking miles to see me. You profusely apologized for being late, and I profusely apologized for not checking my messages.

****, I really do love you. At first, I was stepping down stairs, and then I fell so hard onto the asphalt that had your face confidently drawn on with assorted chalks.

Your name flickers in every light, and your voice settles in my eardrums.

We walked down to the Rail Trail, and I felt like how I imagined those would feel after being baptized. You don't realize how lucky I feel to be walking next to you, talking to you, and knowing that you are on the Earth, and that we are in the same place, the same moment.

I got to hold the umbrella.

My mouth tasted like cheddar and sour cream ruffles, and my hands had trouble circulating blood, and my heart was circulating too much, too fast.

Your eyes were fountains trapped behind emerald.

I love you. I love you. And I love you. I thought all of this between every word that we exchanged, and every glance. I think you love me, too, but it's hard to tell sometimes. You don't have to, but sometimes I imagine that you do, and it's wonderful to imagine such things.

I'm afraid that I'll have to go to a mental hospital. If you were to leave me, I'd understand. I would just want you to be happy, Talia. I hope you wouldn't, though. I guess I'll find out in June.

Despite being reasonably unstable, I feel like the sanest person in a room, sometimes. I was sitting in my living room and I thought about us feeding the ducks, and I heard everyone else talking. I don't understand the point in alcohol and alcohol related stories, when there are ducks and feeding-the-ducks-with-someone-you-love related stories. I don't understand this town, sometimes. Maybe I don't understand how messed up I am, and how everyone is normal.

The mother ducks, and the children, were not there whenever we arrived. We fed the males and it was fun. I like it when you smile. Frequently, we talked about how unfair it was to the females that they would be deprived of our bread. I think things are unfair for females, no matter the species.

We tossed slices and half-slices of bread like safety nets. If our bread can make them live longer, then it'll be worth it. Is that too dramatic of a thought to have?

After looking at the sky, you and I both knew what would happen. It was to be a downpour of everything that would **** you and I, if collected into a cement hole in the ground, approximately six to twelve feet deep. I felt safe, though. I always feel safe with you.

We hunched underneath the umbrella, and scampered across downtown. Your feet were getting wet because of your sandals, and our clothes were sticking to our bodies like how we were sticking to each other. We laughed and spoke French underneath the umbrella, in the pouring rain.

You wore one of my shirts, once we were in my room, and I looked at you and knew that it was true.

Your nose had little cuts, underneath, from our kissing. Apparently, my stubble scratched your skin. I can feel you after we kiss, too, but in a different way.  I can feel you anywhere I go.

I watched you walk up the side of the road, and I turned around to retrace my steps back home, despite just watching my home walk up the side of the road.



Yours Always,

Josh
 Jun 2014 rockstar
VG E Bacungan
~
Let love be
the force that
wakes you up
Everyday.

The drive that keeps me going. :)
 Jun 2014 rockstar
Fenix Flight
Breathe becomes short
Trying so hard to take a deep breathe
and all you get in return is a shallow
imitation of the real thing.

Chest squeezing your lungs
as if they are lemons
and it wants every last drop.

Vision fuzzing
as if suddenly a contact fell out
and your left with the water down
version of the world around you

Fear snaking in
breaking your walls
planting their seeds
in the inner most part of your brain

You shake and shiver
no matter the tempature.
It could be 90
but you'd think
it was 20 below.

Feeling that you need to run
get away from here
but you dont know why

This is what its like
when anxeity takes over
when it decided to take up residence
inside you
and makes you realize
That you never stood a chance
 Jun 2014 rockstar
Fenix Flight
Take center stage
in this play called life.
where the script is
lost to you

The main act
is your self destruction.
For all the world to see

Your dagger held close
scars spanning every inch of skin.

Should I end it? Should I stay?
The ****** of this life's play

Bring it down to your wrist
the pulse rising as your delima grows

the world holds its breath
everything slows down

The turning point

throw down the dagger
it clanks to the wooden floor
Stand on this stage
look life in the eye

*I quit it with the suicidal recital
I got the name of this poem AND the Last Line
from the song GET WELL by Icon for Hire
 Jun 2014 rockstar
Fenix Flight
He looks up at me with pleading eyes.
I stare down at him with a harsh glint in mine,
a cruel smile spread across
my ruby red lips.

kneeling at my feet
groveling his sorrows
begging his regreat.

I just stare down at him
thoughts swirling around
my sadistic riddled brain.

I unfurl the whip
letting it slowly make its way to the floor
a Sudden sharp cruel snap
rings through the air.
As I slap it against the ground

*I am your mistress Now
And this is what I come up with when I am half dead at work Heheheh
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