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Always..
it's always going to be my fault

No matter what you did or what you said
it will be my fault

Even the lies you tell
will be my fault

The love you gave and the love you lost
will be my fault

The pain you feel and the tears you shed
will be my fault

The agony and the injustice of it all
will be my fault

And the punches I took and the bitter words you spat
will be my fault

The obsessive
possessive
jealous
rage
you poured upon me
will be my fault

The others you slept with and threw in my face
will be my fault

The secret child you made
will be my fault

and so I left you

that will not be my fault

that would be yours.
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
re-deem
Broken girl, why are you crying?
Did you not find God today
in the world? In the words
of another, your mother?
Is it someone else's fault you are broken?
Some words spoken
Old wounds opened
That blood will stain stain stain
Pressure can heal that wound
Apply
Apply yourself
As I lay my head back on my pillow
Tears drop down my cheeks
They wash away my smile
Maybe if they'd stop...
My feelings would too.
You hold grudges,
as if you've 
never wronged anyone 
yourself.

You bear grudges,
as if you 
don't know how 
much it hurts 
to have one 
against yourself.

Remember what you've done.
Remember how it feels.

**© Sarah Ahmed
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
Mic
Tension is the result of holding on to the insubstantial.
It's unnatural
It takes effort.
You ask for an effortless life,
then laugh,
for laughter is release
Relax
Be grateful for what you don't have to keep
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
Dark Ink
The say your bad
Or perhaps your mad
Or at least you
Should stay undercover
Your mind must be bare!
If you would dare
To think you can love
More than one lover
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
Viseract
A soldier he was
But soldier no more
Twenty years or so
A veteran of war

Afghanistan, Hawaii, East Timor
A soldier of war
A soldier of war

Bringing back souvenirs
Another scar, another day
Where everyone was frontline
And they suffered the pain

He came home again
But everything had changed
The person he could've been
His choices had rearranged.

I sat and spoke with him
When I ran away from home
Just me and him, in the park
On the grass and together alone.

He apologised for not being there
When I needed him most
First time I've ever really seen him cry
Hard for him to compose

He held out my hands
"Did you think you were given a ***?
Of anger, that's all you'll get in life?"
He looked me in the eyes, his own watering a lot

He looks away, sniffles a bit
"I found out the hard way"
And as he does, I see his pain
From twenty years ago to this very day

Afghanistan, Hawaii, East Timor and beyond
My own father
My own father
A veteran of war
I love you, Dad. You didn't have to always be with me, in my heart you always were.
Books are like flowers
Their words pollen seeds,
Carried far and wide
By all those who read.
With other words merge
To new life ignite
In the fertile minds
Of all those who write.
There tended, nourished
For hour after hour.
Encouraged to grow,
To once more flower.
Her soft silhouette
Etched in the dark sky
Shining bright
She hangs alone
In her paradise
Her Curved profile
Brushed by
A peaceful halo
She watches over
Her sleeping children
Snapshots of stillness
Without Worry
Pulling her down
From her peace

Dreamy eyes all on her
Modest she remains
As she hopes to transcend
Her beauty
To her lost children
The lonely souls
Who lie in bed
Awake
Fixated on her empire
Our queen of the night

Jl 2016
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
nina
music isn't happy
music isn't sad
music tells a story
a story that drives us mad.
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