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Johnny walker Aug 29
Helen was left with no cure for her pain but the last chance was Injections I took to local Hospital
our last
It the first I have
ever seen a doctor show tears when he had to
tell Helen they couldn't her give the
because It would affect her breathing her last chance had gone and she'd
left with unbearable
as she looked at me with tears In her eyes I knew the pain for her to much to bear and I'd eventually lose her to  
Apporva Arya Jul 29
Loose yourself in me
Then find yourself in me..
This is what I leant from love, I loose myself somewhere in this journey with him and then again found myself in him.
MindMooring Jul 13
let your name alphabets loose 
to mingle with mine!
Excerpt from the book Feelings Coated
Apporva Arya Jun 21
I could had
Still choose to tolerate,
For you...
Kept falling,
Sinking in blues,
So deep,
Now I am lost,
Where are you?
I want myself back.. loosing you is not so depressing then loosing me.
Such a passionate lady Helen truly was, so blessed I have been to have known her true spirit she had wonderful mother wife and
Unlike no other one of a kind
I truly loved her then and still do know, life can be so cruel as was for my
But there's good if you look hard enough Seek and you my find for I was so lucky
to find the love of my
But In the end paid the ultimate price for our time together was finally cut
short the day that I lost
her the love of my
A Simillacrum May 23
Dark, play with the pants down.
Tell all, invite hell, I
took it for basic.

Dark, loose lips sink the ship.
Yell all you want. I
took it for granted

You knew, the line between
a miserable joke,
being a successful joke,

is in your grace toward the product,
and your ability to bottle it,
for your audience,
with confidence.
Erian Apr 11
I'll tie the loose strings
Around the glass bottle
Slip in the letter
And throw it out to the sea
Hoping someday you'll read it
With my name scribbled at the edge

Your not so secret admirer
The voice Feb 5
Aside from the black nail polish,
My own personal act of rebellion,
I see my father's hands.

I have my mami's nose,
and eyes,
and lip shape,
and even her forehead.

We have the same forehead,
But my hands,
When I see them I see my father's hands.

Maybe I see them in an attempt,
to portray an image of his existence,
To acknowledge that he actually exists
even though he hasn't been by my side

My hands are darker than my mother's
They are slightly chubbier,
Even the darker little hairs that decorate them,
They do not look like hers at all,
so naturally, they have to look like his.

I am more reminded of him when I grip them
So tightly I almost cut the flow of blood.
So strongly the blood rushed to blush the tips of my fingers

The rage. The anger. The reminder that I am your daughter
That I carry your last name
That I am still and Forever will be,
a part of you
and you a part of me

I did not choose that.
I did not choose the anger or the love

When I have you in front of me,
I will take these, my hands
that look like yours
grip them tighter than ever before
with determination in my eyes,
aim and...

I learned how to box in an attempt,
to shape these hands to be less like you
Fighting hands, unlike yours
Strong hands, much different to yours
Passionate hands, contrary to YOU

I wear the black nail polish, to remind me and you
That these hands are yours,
tainted by the dark melody of the last kiss you gave me
Before you let me walk away.

I wear these hands masked by power,
but deep down a reminder that I am a woman,
Despite my hands being like yours.
A reminder that had you stayed,
I would probably not have the education I now have.

I look down at my hands and see yours.
Despite the black nail polish, they look like yours.
With a layer of love, willing to forgive and love
But unwilling to Forget!
This is what happens when a professor asks a good question in class. "Whose hands beside your own do you see when you look down at them"
  sink   ships.
Just a little something that I read in a book...
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