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 Sep 2013 Sharlie
W. S. Merwin
In a dream I returned to the river of bees
Five orange trees by the bridge and
Beside two mills my house
Into whose courtyard a blindman followed
The goats and stood singing
Of what was older

Soon it will be fifteen years

He was old he will have fallen into his eyes

I took my eyes
A long way to the calendars
Room after room asking how shall I live

One man processions carry through it
Empty bottles their
Image of hope
It was offered to me by name

Once once and once
In the same city I was born
Asking what shall I say

He will have fallen into his mouth
Men think they are better than grass

I return to his voice rising like a forkful of hay

He was old he is not real nothing is real
Nor the noise of death drawing water

We are the echo of the future

On the door it says what to do to survive
But we were not born to survive
Only to live
 Sep 2013 Sharlie
Amanda Marie
now I drink my tea strong and my coffee black
I like the bitter taste it reminds me of reality
every morning I drink my daily dose to wake me from my dreams
 Sep 2013 Sharlie
Dee
I don't write as much or
read as much as I did
in between classes and on
busses or under the bed
at three a.m. with light from
those glow-in-the-dark spoons
out of cereal boxes.

I forgot what it's like to
say i love you to family
and friends and they forgot,
too, around the time dad
stopped smoking and we
lost the house to a gambling
addiction -- they don't know
I know.

I missed the class on making
decisions and holding my
ground and learning to love
myself in that way that
the important people love
me.

I wasted time on drugs and
empty wants, promises--
ruined parts of me I see
on bookshelves and in
B flats on sheet music.
I sleep, I dream;
I tread softly, and I steal
the words better suited to
someone else but I missed
the class on expression, too.

Students and bosses and ones I met
for a moment on the street
laugh and it's always at me,
even when it's not; even when I hide in
plain sight, shoulders hunched, head
down, reciting
Yeats or Siken under my breath
like some mantra of
people with bigger, more
painful, beautiful pasts.
 Aug 2013 Sharlie
manicsurvival
Like evaporation

I go high up

Into the clouds

Then pour down

Onto the ground
 Aug 2013 Sharlie
Cats and Sushi
Today I went down to my Cafeteria,
As I approached I was filled with hysteria,

I saw a girl limping to the same place,
Looking at the floor as if it were a reflection of her face.

She was walking at a very slow rate,
I thought this would be a way to make a friend by fate,

I lunged for the handle to hold open the door.
I even looked  over and smiled some more.

She looked at me and we met eyes,
I expected a smile in return, I saw nothing but demise.

As she walked away i started to wonder,
What happened to this girl, why she was so sundered?

I hate the people that hurt her so bad,
That when a stranger is nice, there is no reason to be glad.

I hope one day she can smile some more,
Rather than walking around staring at the floor.
I'm so confused
by what you want.

Wanting this or,
wanting that.

Perhaps I should guess
what you want.

I say all you want
is this to want that.
A "Mesh" poem I had to write for an assignment.
 Aug 2013 Sharlie
CRH
Revolving Door
 Aug 2013 Sharlie
CRH
I hate you.

You should know that by now.
These permanent frown lines
etched into my brow
that I tell people are from squinting
really show the story of how you
moved into my head over a year ago
and still refuse to move out.

I really loved you-I still love you-How could I have possibly ever been in love with you?

You are Evil,
a Poison,
of the very worst kind-
the one that always leaves me wanting more.
An addict,
Please give me another Fix.
Please stay the hell away from me.

This ever-revolving door
is making me dizzy,
it's making me sick,
it's making me wish
I never started with this.

Please call me tonight.
You just reached out to me last week
and we both know I wasn't really asleep but
you couldn't have paid me enough to respond.
And yet, working out the perfect reply I'll never send,
I started at the screen until dawn.

The door is still spinning,
the room is now spinning,
I wish I could stop my head from this spinning,
we will always be the world's worst song on repeat.
You're a great thinker, but a criminal,
incapable of affection or empathy,
but you stole the very Earth right out from under my feet.

Don't worry though,
I think I'll get my sea-legs soon
and they'll finally be strong enough
to walk away from
you.
I recently started seeing a therapist.  It's bringing up a lot of things I wish I could forget.
I wanted to collect your ocean tears
in a flask and get drunk on your misery.
I wanted to be the earthquakes that
deepened the fault lines in your heart.
I wanted to take your soul piece by piece
by means of soft hands and even softer lips.
I wanted to destroy you more than I wanted
to allow myself to love you,
but all you did was paint the galaxies in my palms,
giving me the universe when I didn’t
even deserve a chance.
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