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Silverflame Jun 2019
You saw a glimpse of me
in a sea of people where
my individual existence
drowned in the crowd.

You saw me
in the midst of my inner struggle
where my common sense was
unraveling: thread by thread.

You reached out to me
lured me with crumbs
of love, just so i could see
you were not dangerous.

You waited for me
your patience paralyzed my
xenophobic mind and melted
the glaciers around my heart.

You held my hand
so i couldn't run away
because i tend to play
hide and seek with things i fear.

You whispered into my ear
morphine filled words
slipped down my spine and
burned their way into my core.

You see me
right here in front of you
i'm not used to it therefore
i plead with you: don't look away.
  Jun 2019 Silverflame
scully
I want to write about what hurts because I think it will
Stop me from hurting. If I put these words on
A page then they will be easier to digest.
Poetry isn't curative by creation, it is
Just confession. Still, these remedial
Lines are what I turn to when I am holding
Too much in my hands. Right now, I feel
Like I am overflowing onto the ground below me.
For the first time,
I don't want to write about what hurts. I want
To keep it inside of me and let it burn me. I want
To carry it in my palms for as long as I can.
I should write
About how we've said goodbye so
Many times that it turned into a threat, a weapon
We made with our tongues.
I should write
About how I lied and got away with it,
How you got caught with
Your hands tied and no one to blame.
I should write
About how it was over before we waved the white
Flag, and I know what it means now
To hold onto a sinking ship.
I've never had anything to die for.
I should write about how I've never wanted
Something so much that I devastated it completely.
We loved in harsh conditions, under sun and darkness and
I don't know how to write about how
The love didn't save us.
I don't write about letting go as much as I write about
Holding on, and I want
That to change.
I don't want to write hurt just to feel it.
The next poem I write about you will be
About me. About how I held on and how I let go.
It won't be about your love, it will be about
Mine. It won't stop me from hurting, but
It is how I make it out
Of my love alive.
`
  Jun 2019 Silverflame
Traveler
I am but a poem
My body made of rhymes
I have been written
One too many times
Beauty I often read
Love I wish to know
You, you are an explanation point!
You let your feelings show...
But as you can clearly see
I'm a simple paragraph
Easily as I was written
I am doomed to pass...
Yet it's all been written before
After all
I am a poem
Nothing more!
Traveler Tim
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