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I sit here in silence,
Wondering only what could be,
There over there,
Staring back at me.

Those eyes appear,
Dark brown maybe?
Full of judgement & despair.
A plea so loud,
I care not to hear.

For when I do,
My stomach lurches,
My heart beats faster.
Distaste fills my mouth.

"Dinners ready" she calls.
It's time to start the lies.

"I'm coming" I reply,
"I'm starving" I lie.

As I walk away,
The eyes follow too,
A reflection so clear,
A self rejection so strong.
The struggle becomes real.
I used to visualize the perfect family;
One that laughs to brighten the darkest of days,
One that delivers praise for every little success,
A family that will accept your flaws despite the circumtances.

But I suppose things will not always come our way.
The darkest of days are treated with suffering and consequences,
Small achievements are ignored and brushed off,
And your flaws dominate your mind to the extent that that is all that runs through your head.

There is always time for forgiveness,
Always time to right your wrongs.
Because after all, at the end of the day,
You are of their blood.
The world shook,
I awoke.
Not from sleep--
but consciousness.

The world shook,
I stood.
Strings controlled my limbs--
I was helpless but nurtured.
 Oct 2013 Sarah Savannah
Dany
Imagine if old journals could talk,
The chaos they would provoke.
Old pages revealing to old lovers
All the bottled feelings and unspoken words
You never had the guts to say.
Imagine them telling the darkest secrets
You trusted to those pages
And sharing the spelling mistakes you made
In that poem you wrote and you thought
It was so dumb and no one would read.
I just say,
Don't trust old journals.
The old and wrinkled pages are indeed astute.
No pressure. No diamond.

No oyster. No pearl.
                 Cloistered from the sun. Ageless in aspic.
                 Rare as angels hair and fine. So fine to me

Precious as baby breath. Gentle as a webb.
My love's comes  to me. Is borne on truth ,carried on a warm zepher.
You.
Carry
The elemental.
Essential.
Biology.
You.
Do.
I Have Nothing

I have no job, I have no life,
I'm just a slob, who has no wife.
I have no brains, I have no brawn,
I have lots of pains, and soon I'll be gone.
I have no money, I have no home,
life ain't funny with no hair to comb.
I have no pride, I have no pet,
not that I haven't tried,
I live in constant regret.
I have no eyes, I have no ears,
said all my goodbyes,
I'd cry but I have no tears.
I have no food, I have no drink,
not really in the mood,
I sure could use a shrink.
I have no car, I have no truck,
walking barefoot on hot tar,
makes me say what the ****.
I have no hopes, I have no dreams,
my life is on the ropes,
if only I could hear my screams.
I have no family, I have no friends,
living is agony, death will be my cleanse.
I have no reasons, I have no rhyme,
don't know the seasons, can't even tell time.
I have no heart, I have no soul,
my life is falling apart,
according to the latest poll.
I have no ink, I have no pen,
I'm very ***** and I stink,
not sure if I'll ever shower again.
I have no ****, I have no *****,
I'm just a toothless hick,
who has to *** in closed stalls.
 Oct 2013 Sarah Savannah
Kyle
A new dawn has surfaced,
I woke up and realised I was wrapped tightly in your warm embrace,
I gently pushed your arms away,
Headed to our brightly lit kitchen,
Fixed you marshmallows, pancakes, muffins,
Marmalade,
Everything that could revitalise your day,
And then I remembered what you said,
'Babe, never leave me more than 5 inches away'.
I giggled and decided to return to your warm embrace,
But there you were standing,
Shambling like a Haiti Zombie,
Hair messy,
Breath as foul as Smaug and Shrek,
But there I was wanting to close our 2 metres gap,
Till' no spaces between us were left,
But I halted from my tracks, and said,
‘Baby, would you like some coffee to ease your groggy state?’
‘Who knows what tomorrow’s dawn may bring’
‘But my love for you will never dwindle from change’

I wept as the last pages of your diary was soaked in red,
From the sliced vein of my wrist when I was in a fit of rage,
With the broken glasses of our photo frame,
Taken whilst we were at the Carpathian cliffs,
Alas I could not capture your fall,
And I could not stop recalling how your hands gently slip away from my palm,
You ended up in a coma, failing to respond despite my desperate calls,
Nor from kisses that could awake you magically like Snow White with her company of dwarves,
Know that I am forever yours,
The same bespectacled spectre, Always haunting the campus halls,
Waiting to steal your attention and leave me petrified,
From your Basilisk and Medusa like gaze,
You were a personified patriot of beauty,
With hazel scarf, scarlet hair, pink lips,
Seraphim in disguise,
And what an angel you must be, to fall from the atmosphere,
And defy society’s tainted rules of attraction to fall for an underdog,
Though I find it ironic that your name was Dawn,
It seems like my sorrow was fated all along,
But I do not wish to survive another dawn without me in your arms,
How silly am I to forget about the running water in the tub,
The portal to bridge our gaps,
Not another step was taken,
When I felt a familiar warmth behind my back,
Followed by a disembodied voice which sounded like a ‘Hello’
Or was it,

‘*******’.
Lulaby in D minor. Random cadence.
Radiant. Pill passing as placebo. But deaadly as stricnine.

Spider hiding on the leaf. Baited breath.
taut with anticipation..dance mephisto..

Fittest surviving by vibing on feedback.

Floating on experiences expediences. Called intuition ?
Seen it before, another stitch
For the quilt.

Mental flotsam. Jettisoned jetsum.
Protesteth greatly. Knows inately. ... the. Exception or rule.
Cumbaya. My lord. Cumbaya.
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