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Bhill Oct 4
The pain of it all
Sometimes it’s too much for us
What do you do then

Breathing is hard when in pain
Sleeping is hard when in pain
Ouch, that hurts is all I got

The pain of it all
Sometimes it's too much for us
What do you do then

Brian Hill - 2019 # 247
What's your pain level?
Bryce Oct 4
I am a sojourner,
Wandering the paper-sand shores
Of pulp and rock--
Tracing the fields of ink in my mind
And following them
To the terminus of thoughts

And yet there was never a longer trail
Than the constant sound of vowels
That placed in me this solitude
And promising to

Go somewhere; see someone,
And see now--none but you.

To sail seas, searching for pearls
Across the shores of every beach
Inside the depths of chitinous chests
Hidden from the world

A jewel embeded,
Found by me

You--

You are the fire of the Greeks
You are the Pharos, of lovely beams
You are the granules beneath my feet--
The pearl I never thought I'd see

And I am an island of thought
To rest your tired storms
And pour your heavy waters here,
To wither these blackened stones

My love,

If there was no more land to fear,
These shores would hold the skies
I'd grow a garden from the sea,
And let you name it ours

Of all the mountains nestled here,
And rivers coursing high
I'd have their shadows take to thee,
And in these passing hours--

When all the words are written,
And all the hymns are sung
As long as there is air to breathe
I'd say you are my love
Tatiana Sep 26
There's an old, abandoned house
not far from where I stay
its windows are all broken
brittle wood blocks the doorway
and it's green with ivy that crawls up its face
as it looks at all the other homes
that have windows lit with warm hues
and boast gardens tamed and beautiful.
I guess at what the old house says:

"I once held love within my walls
now it only echoes in my halls."

There's an old, abandoned house
not far from where I stay
and I see in its windows
it has so much to say.
How it became broken,
how its life faded away.
With a heavy sigh, the door falls off its hinges
like a mouth preparing to speak.
Would you like to know what the house told me?

Nothing.
©Tatiana
When you finally decided to walk away, a big part of me went with you,
I’m not going to say you took it, because you didn’t,
I gave myself to you, piece by piece, little by little, I was giving who I am to you, for you,
And I’m not sure if I want those pieces back, no, I am certain I don’t want them back, they’re yours now, they’ve been tainted by the long nights of our meaningless conversations and the last surge of whatever fight I had in me to try and revive you and I.
Place for a cry
Pretentious love
Young love articulating itself
Mostly teens having disorders and inadequacy
Heartbroken subordinates
Finding their peace in mythic love narratives
And thats not for me to judge
But as one sassed mouth boy said
"If you listen to katy perry's lyrics for wisdom , then **** yourself "
Has it became an escape for you ?
Maybe just a brief time for deep contemplation
Having hope in sprinkles
Whatever helps i guess.....
Another kind of a drug i guess.....
I hate that one has to add hashtags at last of their poetry
very very formal and pretentious
If just one more time I could say Hi to her feel the touch of her hand so soft laid upon me
to look again In her eyes that could melt
me
But no second chance do we get just one time around seems so unfair to me that I have to live without
her
Especially If you given all to religion doesn't seem like a very good deal to me certainly not enough for
me
Amazing how time has just passed me by all my past fast falling away all now seem's
a life time away another world
away
The older I get time goes faster than the day before memory not so good so many things In my head beginning to fade fast
away
Childhood memories are becoming quite vague seems a million years ago almost
as If another
person
And to what I do remember I'm left wondering to where did all the rest go every time I fall to sleep memory fade
a little
more
And soon I guess there will
be nothing of memory left at
all I can't think of anything worse than loosing one's
memory
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