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wes parham Jan 2023
Condescending to humor my intimate muse,
You sought out her words in my writing.
I couldn't have guessed that you'd actually choose,
To tell her what you think is the source that I'm citing.

Get over yourselves, the drama and strife,
I can tell you’ve found something you wanted to see.
And, of course, held it up to the shape of your life,
And think you see secrets you once shared with me.

Forgive my intrusion throughout that December,
If that friendship seemed somehow untrue,
I won't try to persuade you, but you ought to remember,
Sometimes, unbelievably, it's not about you.

My task is obsessive, compulsion, expression,
I write the universal, the aggregate whole.
Never to betray or teach some grand lesson,
I’d rather enrich than to harm a good soul.

Emotions exposed and stories delivered may wound or dignify,
My job is to make it have life and clarity;
Give it weight enough to signify.

And, as then, when we meet,
Sour or sweet, 
Speaking our truth,
Silent secrets,
and feel…
The words that can wound,
Heal or conceal...
All of them wind to what our actions reveal.
I have had a few occasions where people close to me were certain that I was writing about them.
I was certain, each time, that they were mistaken.
I was broken, each time, that they’d missed the whole plot.

This piece actually came about over decades and an uncharacteristic snarkiness was added at the urging of a friend to give it more “attitude”.  Ha.
SelinaSharday Mar 2018
Bye Bae!
Your so sweet your so kind.
Bye my boo.
always admire you.
aye aye.
waves and smiles..babe.
sorry you didnt want me around bae..
still smilin cuz in my face you seemed so sweet bae.
I'm walking with..
comforted in what I'm use to, my old ways of working building and creating it hasn't failed to keep me company.
a coat on my cold shoulder..
with it I've grown fonder.
At least now I don't have to wonder.
if its me..or if it's you.
who dunno what to do.
about the harmful ways we fall into.
sunlight so bright appears as a new connection.
a bright new friend.
I want to let its light in.
sunlight come hold my hand.
A glow..willing sweet without demand.
winks.. blows kisses my old boo.
wishing the best to you.
I've ******* gloomy and doom.
Tucked them up away in a locked off room.
Hope just kissed my cheek.
Loves dancing teaching me new steps at my feet.
Peace is feeding me dreamy new treats.
and doubt has fled from my door.
As I'm handed a broom to  make sure losers can't enter any more.
Fly swatter in hand to chase out the pesty flies of despair.
Losing we are no longer a pair.
No worries ex boo.
I'm gettin over you.
Text me again.. bae just text me once more again..
Call me again just Once more again.
Never mind we'd just probably repeat the same steps all over again.
Destiny get a hold of run away desires.
Ropes tie away unwanted admirers.
Hey hey.
Bye bae!
selinasharday rose. S.A.M
After losing days will come that are waiting hoping, desiring to be reached just once again.. to reach back just one more time.. But keep company with new friends.. And you will survive again.
she swishes her gossiping*
like the reddest red

our confidences cannot be entrusted
to her
she has a propensity to broadcast
them clarion

she'll cajole you with
her amiable
then by not checking the tongue
all will

impart no details
keep them safe unto
as the idle talker
respects not even
Tamara Fraser Oct 2016
Tensions high,
like broken kite strings,
reaching further away,
escaping the empty earth
in your arms.

Creeping chatter,
pouring inky letters,
in runny messes
all over my hands,
feeling bruised by you;
the sting, the slap
as leaking words
drip drip drip
from your mouth,
the broken tap.

I’m tired.
I’m so tired of hearing
whispered yearnings
scratching the back of your throat.
Desperation, loneliness?
You beg with the croon in your tone,
you play along like the gentle little
a songful, humming love,
all warm in cupped hands.

In all this time,
this achingly long time
I’ve played as your neat little trick;
the showman’s trusty pet,
small dove flying
as soon and only when you release me.
String caught up around my waist,
I’ll never fly too far.

As I walked away,
that night with the moon trailing my form,
and pooling in pillows cradled in my soft footsteps,
you watched my back
stretch lean and tall and
away from you.
You looked back,
it was the moon shifting through my hair,
when I turned to notice
a head shake,
a blink in the empty settling air you left behind.

you leak all those notions I wished you
would one day say,
those heart-melting flatteries,
desirable admissions,
I’m the only one you want,
to keep you satisfied,
keep you going and touching and loving
and exploring and breaking,
until your other girl comes home.
You ask and plead and return,
lapping and licking in my arms,
wanting my form so bad again;
you cry for all the fun in the world,
but this time, it just can’t.

You’re just my broken tap.
You’d need to stop dripping ***** water one day.
You’d need to stop echoing around me at night,
cradling myself to keep my strength enough
to say no to what I wanted and got for so long.

But you’re just my delicate and lovely broken tap.
I’ll always love you somehow, and feel so dangerous,
intoxicating and breathtaking
as you made me so.
You showed me so.
But I can’t wait for you to cease on your own.
Pull me round with you, wait for you,
tossed like an empty drink because of you.

I just need to let you
let me go.
Like I cried to let you go first.

— The End —