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I awkwardly said,
I want to share my poems aloud,
At this place, underground.
I'd like it if you came.

No reply.

I anxiously mentioned,
Some of them will have you in them,
I'd like it if you came and heard,
What I had to say.

No reply.

A few days later, you talk to me, randomly.
I mention I want to see you.
I've had a bad day.

What's been bad, you say?

My job isn't working out and
my car situation is all ****** up,
and my family is ****** up too.

You don't have your car anymore?

No, family needed it more than I.
And I want to save some down before I get mine.
I say.
Emptily. Thinking. No big deal.
This is smart. This is what people do.

But you never replied.
Not once when I needed you the most.

Looking back I'm frustrated.
I cared an awful lot.
And because I did I shared myself instead of
Partaking in you. And I think at a point it became so...
needy. So frustrating. So unmanly in your eyes, that
combined with some ****** dysfunction,
we just died on the vine. Black, withered, and disgusting.
So even though we remembered being green it just,
could not go back that way. And the irony was if I had
just ever figured out how to be nonchalant,
and not care so ever ******* much,
then, chances are, you'd have been my lady.
Life is weird. People... relationships... I don't know.
It's a cruel joke sometimes. Ain't a poem for you anymore.
You never really wanted.... that. I don't know what you want but,
It isn't me. Not anymore.

My sister said, **** that *****.
I smiled wryly and thought,
Once, but nevermore.

I think in the dark times of the night.
Even when the sky is bright,
Perhaps in a few years, when we are older...
I think with fear of a primal sort.
I have a girl that I love,
who I adore, and who doesn't necessarily mistreat me,
who keeps me though I'm an *******, and will take me
rich or poor but...
If you ever became someone who would come
and listen to my poetry
and hear what I have to say to you,
and cared, a little bit, sincerely,
and ever found me in your heart, truly, again...
What would I do?
I don't know but disgustingly,
I may always love you.
 Apr 2015 Sakii
let the bridges crumble into ash and dust.
let the stars fear our brilliance.
let the rest of the world drown out what lies beyond
the barricade.
lay down your arms -
i am almost yours.
you need only to surrender.
 Apr 2015 Sakii
cloud suicide.
 Apr 2015 Sakii
i'm telling you.
the clouds were meant for the ground.
but they hung themselves.
 Mar 2015 Sakii
Sound Of Rain
Why is it that people lie?
Telling you that they care
When in reality, they just
want to see you down.

Why is it that people lie?
Acting like they love you
When in reality, they just
Want what you have.

Why is it that people lie?
Telling you they'll stay always,
When in reality, they'll
Just leave in the end.

Why is it that people lie?
Giving you all of this false hope,
To which you cling on to so hard,
Only to let you down and never come back.

Why is it that people lie?
Even when you've lost so much
And think of them as your only hope
Seeing you suffer, they just smile.
So tired of all of these lies.
 Mar 2015 Sakii
Sound Of Rain
I've followed you for such a long time,
your play with words are what bring me back to Hello Poetry every once in a while,
And today, when I sat scrolling through your work,
I just couldn't stop.
Oh no. Couldn't stop but I tried,
And I felt like a creep so I stopped halfway or so,
and I just wanted to let you know that when I read
what you wrote, it made me smile.
Your work is beautiful and I truly believe you have magical powers
for when your fingertips touch the keyboard, I am sure golden sparks fly
and work their magic,
for what you write is simple, yet incredible,
touching and relate-able
and most importantly, I feel,
so very powerful.
I've been so stressed about tomorrow,
            that I forgot to live today.

I repeat, so very powerful.
And your words inspire me,
And make me feel such strong emotions,
and although I don’t know you,
you make me wish I had someone willing to write for me,
and I hope you no longer have to feel the heartache and sadness you sometimes write about
and that you are able to smile.
But if you find yourself stuck someday and find no reason to smile,
remember that your words have moved me, and made me smile,
which in itself is a reason for you to smile,
for being able to move a stranger through your words is quite a great reason for happiness.
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