The port swallowed dry the remnants of the last season, dryer than the past and the reason was an unbecoming at the seams of the living.
But that seemed like a lie told by a child to an adult.
You had your own ideas swimming in your narrow canals.
For now, anyway, and tomorrow your thoughts would shift to how to pay the rent.
Which is fine. We aren't meant to live secretly,
with too much time and to draw lines between content
and resentment.
So you watch the thinning tides with intent on knowing how they've changed.
And even though the thick black line of watermark
that dots like mold on the dock tells you, "Here I was,"
the lower stillness of placid surface speaks a kind of whisper now.

You aren't listening. The writing has been written.
You're living even though your life is past tense.
******* work, ******* change. Do something to undo the damage laid plain.

But there are still boats buoyed out in the sea.
And for some that's scary but for some reason to me
"It's fine."

J ust as you are
U ‘re perfect
L ove is a thing
I feel it for you
A nd I’d love for you to feel it too

I …

L ove isn’t a word I like at all
O ddly enough
V ery strange I know
E erie of me but true

Y ou however
O ddly make me want to yell it at the top of my lungs all day
U have my heart
    Do with it as you wish
:)

"don't you feel it?" i ask
doe eyed
young and lost
"don't you feel the world closing in on you?"
you smiled at me
your hand brushed my face
"so let it close in," you say
"just don't let it close you out"

how do you know (when a broken human can be fixed)


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2644586/how-do-you-know-when-a-human-is-too-broken/

supermarket checkout line, so lazy broken down dressed,
I’m probably arrestible for disturbing the peace,
my haired piled, and held together by a broken clip,
makeup at home in
a drawer labeled ‘why bother’
my t shirt, don’t please look too closely,
yesterday’s coffee spillage outline
only mostly gone,
and the skinny jeans that felt inappropriate
ten pounds ago,
now looking semi-completely ridiculous

is this a tv show?
wallet, a twenty and a single,
who knew a pound of ground blue mountain
cost the better part of the the twenty
in that case no need for a gallon of milk
and *** a box of chocolate frosted donuts
silently slid far far away,
evidence of a guilty plea of irresponsibility resignation

short $2.42 (cut up the credit cards)
and no convenient pit to fall into
when the teenager cashier snickers,
when a sam elliot voice says here ya are,
stammering a no, a thank you, and thinking getaway direction

truck safely, made it,
knock on the window
sam elliot soundalike is a lookalike as well
standing outside with my wallet in hand,
two heads taller than my ex-petite figurine

more stammering ******* could I look any stupider

but inside a piece of brown shopping bag torn
with ten whole digits
I’ve never seen prior to this disaster
saying call when you want to return my $2.42

turns out he got, no, he is glue and paste,
an eraser man for fine lines and sad times,
and a lasso to keep me held together,
a pocket red handkerchief hanging half out
of his back pocket, never without, calls it his tear catcher

pulled out that too tight blues-blouse
from back of my closet
that still complements my complexion,
wear it ever time that day rolls around

just dumb luck ain’t much of an answer
so I’ll rephrase, dumb luck is in the everything
cause his number was 917-242-2424
and he is a gambler in matters of the heart

bust his ***** when he says he’s a lucky man,
reply he ain’t got no luck at all
compared to me on that daft day

and every daft day thereafter
I glue his lips shut to mine, no escaping,
and paste a new $2.42
into his wallet
when he is sleeping mine,
no erasing our lines,
just redrawing them deeper and finer,
just making sure my
dumb luck is working overtime

You don't know what thoughts you run through my mind
You don't know what trash you'll soon discover and find

You don't know what my words behind the screen really mean
You don't know what parts of my life are filthy, and what parts are clean

You don't know or see the emotions you've caused to ask why
You don't know what you've said that has caused me to cry

You don't know what messages and signals you show
You don't know how much confusion you throw

You don't know what I want to shout and scream
You don't know what nights seem to be a dream

You don't know what hurts
You don't know what scorches and burns

You don't know what lies behind these eyes
You don't know what causes a heart to die...

You don't know... or don't want to understand...
and honestly... who in their right mind would... even take my hand

They would have to be able to see... and not be so blind...
To see this monster... and yet... still want me... and love me...

the lover





Did you know about the hero



Did you know about the news



Did you know about the games



Did you see the thieves



Who convert the mother to bad



Who makes it fall to land



See every thing was been unworthy



The woman was cried



She called her sons to save her



Her sons were arrested



They can't say know



If one says no, he will not see the sun again



The brave was been disappeared



The fear had been appeared



It has more nails



It has more legs



And his arms were long



No one can't say something



She was cried with full eyes



The God hear her cries



The youth moved to the park



Eltahrir is the park



Egypt change her clothes



The youth appear crying



They stood against the killers



They stood against the tankers



The police wants to destroy all shouters



And the god was with the younger



Egypt is now free



Egypt is cultivating the seed



It will be green