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Sometimes you have to be alone
because you're the only one
that you can fully trust
with your feelings.
Yes.

You can tell people how you feel
but they still won't understand.
They listen to your pain
but they never feel
what you feel.

Not even the person you trust the most.

They can be there to comfort you.
Maybe they'll even cry with you,
but their stomach won't knot.
Their head wouldn't pound.

Then you'll feel the pressure of knowing that someone else knows what's killing you  on the inside.

That's why I rather be alone.

I came out of the womb
all alone.
By myself.

So I contain my feelings all alone
bottled on a shelf
inside myself.
With ink stained finger tips
I seek the only crimson that drips
Out of passion or of pain
It doesn't matter, this is keeping me sane
Fill the pages with my own sap
Please don't give me that crap
You know no pain
Til you've had your hurricane
So stop acting cool
To me you are nothing but a fool

*end
Poets were created
       to emulate grandeur,
            whilst suffering the blues
---

poetry. folded into my back
pocket dark garnet pages are
left frayed and friable like
leaves on the bottom
of a teacup

poetry. stancion of
formed glass emptied of
its torch by breakage
each shard a grain
of obsidian
sand

poetry. lamp of a great
beast structure struggling to
find its way through the labyrinth
Minotaur myths blackness
camera obscura to a feast of souls
who's meat is dusty tomes
skeletons in tombs
choking on their crusts of
parchment owls

poetry. oil of anointing
for to wrap the Christian
alive as he burns in
the garden of
Caligula

i am poetry. all of these
am i. a paper soul clipped
from an origami bird's wing
frayed like a homemade
leaf but never

*empty
Thanks to Nat Lipstadt
and Shaunna Harper
for the inspiration
I have sinned, I have wronged
Been down with no way up
But you came, lent me your shoulder
I knew this world as a better place

I have cried, I have screamed
Believing nobody could hear me
But you came, lent me your ears
Then I knew someone listened

I have suffered, I have been lost
Searching, but with nowhere to go
But you came, took me, kept me warm
And I knew beauty, for there was you
Copyright © Chris Smith 2011
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