I’ve heard it said
“you have to learn to love yourself before you can love others”
I did it backwards.
I had to learn to love others
before I could find enough love in my heart
for myself

Grinning at the memories
She left in my conscious mind
Like everything still seems present
The cherished times at her laughs
Left smiles of regret to take a chance

Through this road with music
Louder than the wilderness
Good Will Hunting final theme
I have to go see about a girl

The road longing as I accelerate
Take me to her heart once again
Make it my home in her forever
To return everyday and night

hope you're fine

all that is lost
isn't always meant
to be found,
in the first place;
like faint traces
of your cologne
on the pillow
where i rest;
like our first
awkward picture together;
like your maddening lust
to not be satiated
because it makes you
value things less,
and probably that's why
when you found out
that you could have me:
you left,
because some things, darling
aren't meant to be

Juin 2d

How do I find the missing parts of myself?
Do I need lots of help?
Or seek them in people I know?
Do I have to dig deep inside my unexplored soul?

I want to start finding,
Look for trails I left while walking.
I wish there was a map to follow,
For I have been quite hollow.

Laura Nov 15

he raises his hand
raises his head
cocks a gun
and turns a key
he's not quite sure what he's looking for
but he can't stay here any longer
can't keep screaming into the quiet
can't keep gasping for breath
way out in space
he cocks a gun
turns a key
and he inches forward
he's desperate to find it
but not so sure he wants to see it
he spots it there
centimeters through the veil
mirror twins
only he can't tell
which one in real
and which one is an illusion
on cold reflective glass
the girl and the faceless thing
the nameless thing and the hopeless thing
he cocks a gun
and turns a key
and he tilts his head
and breathes
only he's forgotten that he can't breathe
so he chokes
and they turn
the girl and the faceless thing
or maybe it's one thing
a faceless girl

Miss Me Nov 1

Always strive deligently far within

Until you see that spark of trust again

Brianna Love Oct 25

Our songs sing to each other
every morning, noon and night,
bringing beauty and love into life
so perfect and so right.

The sweetest of our melodies
loving and oh so kind,
playing throughout our histories
since our dawn of time.

That special kind of love
going beyond our final days,
unconditional and pure of heart
enchanting in every way.

Our melodies have played on
as fate allowed us time to grow,
preparing us for the most beautiful love
that our hearts beamingly glow.

"I was the same, but I was waiting for myself on the shore to return."  -   Murakami

It is a difficult time. So
You wait for yourself to come back.
You wait on the
Pier. Watch pelicans
Pirouette in the air; weightless

For a moment and then diving.
The sound of their splash reminding
You of something you just can’t quite
Remember. You sit there eating
Fish after fish, wash them

Down with beer. You have started
Counting seagulls and giving them
Long Spanish names. You choreograph
Ballets, make architectural
Drawings of dreams and have started

To build a home of sea shells. On
The weekends people come just to
See you waiting for yourself. “Where
Did you go?” they ask, you just shrug
Your shoulders. You make new friends.

You take up painting and paint self
Portraits, your image repeated
Like the latitude and longitude
Lines on a map. Early every
Morning you lean against the railing.

The seagulls have joined you. You’ve made
Them tiny red scarves that they
All wear. All of you stare, being
Still as glass as if any movement
Might blur vision. All of you are

Staring out to sea, straining to
See you coming back, straining to

See the prow of the boat cutting
The silver morning water.

A poem about finding oneself.  Previously published  2  Rivers Review 2015

The Fallen Angel

Seeing life before me as I fall through the sky,
Makes me shiver on down knowing life to go by.
From high asking what and why of I to become?
Away from all so gracious to be left undone,
I am yet to touch ground and now I know why so.
The impact lets you know your soul no longer yours,
The wingless flight at its end with them above too.
What seen will be a crash from the dear old above,
Of what used to be an Angel of simple love.
Dirt, dust and hell from the deep blue sky trailed on by,
Away from the clouds no longer in sight attached.  
This star used to be heavenly now apart ground,
Pitched black and darkened am I of earth here abound.

About becoming lost from a faith or being denied one; falling as someone who was made to b pure, but damed for all time.
Mary Zollars Sep 21

Life was perfect
When you were around
I thought that would last
Until you were found

Blossoming in Spring
Lovelier than life
Then winter came
And so did the knife

Your hands created art
Inspiring the soul
You wanted attention
And so reached your goal

So very dear to me
My source of heat
That wasn’t enough though
You got cold feet

Life was bright
When you were around
Then everything went dark
When your body was found

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