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I have tried to show her
That love is not a waste.
She lays upon my chest at night,
My arms around her waist

She will cry in her sleep,
There's nothing I can do
Every time I open my eyes,
She's a new shade of blue.

I hate seeing her sad.
It tears my heart apart.
I just want to make her happy
She's my own form of art.
A man one day lost his way
Searching on a map
He found himself between the seas
Of "hopeless" and "depressed"

More and more he tried to find
His way back to his home
But the more and more he tried to fight
He lost his way of shore

He had great plans to soothe his heart
With his future already set
So he set sail to the sea
With mammon in his chest

With sails raised, his ship now blew
And had come to a know a land
Of money, fortune, gold, and goods
Of all that he had planned

But looking at his map once more
He began to fall apart
As his chest was never filled
So beats the lifeless heart...
I am drunk again
My best impression of a middle-aged man cemented to his sofa
His eyes hazy, glassy
staring at the static television
The clink of the glass
A relished sound that makes my stomach churn
The acid dances with anticipation
Adding fuel to the fire
I drink down the amber liquid
Almost too beautiful to waste on thoughts that rebel against the dam I've built inside my head

It's collapsing now
flooding the brain with insane things
Inhumane things
Fears of fingertips losing their grips around my wrists
Of lips losing their reach to mine
Hands having explored every inch of these flaccid limbs
Nothing left to conquer
The conquest long forgotten
To be alone.

The fog of a lover's face lost forever in memories
That will haunt me one chilly evening
A reflection of my worst nightmare
Inebriated and alone
Don't just listen.
Feel.
Because the answers don't always come
In loud preachings and audible words.
Sometimes they come
In the dark of the night
Brought by the silent whispers
Or the cold midnight breeze.
Sometimes your heart hears
More than your ears do.
If our love
Is not enough
To make you
Forget about
Old lovers.

Then please leave.
 Jul 2015 Ruth Cardenas
Just Melz
Just because
I don't have the right
To be jealous
That doesn't mean
That I'm **not
 Jun 2015 Ruth Cardenas
niamh
The gentlest of flowers
are constantly trampled
under heavy boots
I am enough.
I am enough.
I am enough.
I am enough.
I am enough.
With or without you,
**I am enough.

— The End —