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Shruti Atri Jan 2015
Let's write ourselves a poem,
You be the verse, I'll be the rhyme;

Let's find ourselves a feast of words,
And slash them down on white.

Let's sit ourselves in a quiet corner,
So temptation isn't bright;

Let's be ourselves for each other,
And spend our days in the light.

Let's be together for once, forever,
The rest can wait in line;

Let's not change the mellow mood,
And forget the needle and the pine.

Let's lay by ourselves for a little moment,
While I spell our love out on your spine;

Let's share ourselves a life's dream,
And paint it on the starry skies.

Let's pen ourselves our memories,
To remember for all of time...

*I told you we'd write ourselves a poem,
But you ditched me for the dime!
Silent Thoughts Sep 2014
I can’t keep imagining him in my mind
Or love I’ll never find
Blinded by my perception of perfection
Depth only found upon inspection
Afraid I should know in an instant
On this I am insistent
For last time when I let the feeling build
The foundation wasn’t filled
And these holes turned into cracks
Beliefs I’d built on pacts
I want that love that grew
But I want the instantaneous jolt, too
Hearts bright at first sight
And feelings that take flight
AmberLynne Jul 2014
I've changed my face over the years,
and my muse right along with it.
I first found inspiration
in myself, writing words
upon my skin.
But the pen was silver and cold
and the words were red and ugly.
Sadness, a pensive depression,
that was my next muse.
And I wrote,
oh, how I wrote,
works which bled me out
but never did much to help
soothe the ache anyway.
Then for a time I lost myself,
and had no muse to call my own.
And I squandered far too much
precious time stagnating.
Until,
until,
the most unexpected muse arrived
with a sweeping push,
forcing me up.
And now I'm wandering,
though I'm no longer lose,
and with me I have the muse
I never knew I wanted.
You.
6.1.14

— The End —