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Mark Lecuona Jan 2015
I wanted to write about loneliness
Until she said she was accepted at the trial and the new chemo showed great promise

I wanted to write about darkness
Until she said she was relieved that the side effects were only nausea and fatigue

I wanted to write about pain
Until she said they found out her broken rib was because she was coughing so much

I wanted to write about loss
Until she said she had found faith because she finally allowed herself to believe
s Jan 2015
I had a dream
I was in an empty room
Staring at a girl
I started to think about this girls  l i f e.
I started to wonder if she was  h a p p y.
I started to ask myself why she was
there.
In this pointless room.
Doing so much of  
e v e r y t h i n g  
but practically
n o t h i n g.
I don't know how to explain it.
I knew most the answers because I'm the girl standing in the pointless room.
But I wonder why I didn't know all the answers.
I'm that girl.
I should know.
But I don't.
aimee s Jan 2015
So here's the scene:
11:30p.m. on New Year's Eve;
A bedroom, dimmed lights,
And me—in bright pink pyjamas
Which looked completely ridiculous
With my hair and skin.
Life tip: Gingers and bright pink?
Best avoid.
In fact; I don't know why
I was wearing it in the first place—
I don't even like bright pink.
Anyway;
Whatever.

This is not the point.

The point is me;
Sitting at my desk
And writing in my journal
About how emotionally crippling
The past year had been;
Hoping I’d wake up to a better tomorrow—
Only to find the same harsh reality,
Over and over.
And God! What a toll it took on me:
Mentally, physically and spiritually—

When it happened.

It, like a large invisible hand,
Slapping me hard across the face and shouting:

Are you done being miserable?

And maybe that was all I needed to hear.

Once I read that perhaps
You couldn't decide to be happy,
But you sure as hell could decide to be miserable.
And maybe that was one of the truest things I have ever read—
Because that was exactly what was happening.

There is only so much that medications can do,
And only so much that a person could advise,
When your mind is set on:
I don't want to get better.
I don't deserve to get better.


And that’s when I saw it:
A tiny spark,
That was always there but for some reason
I had decided not to see.
And in that moment,
It filled my eyes with blind hope
And I decided:

I am going to let it happen.

I deserve to be happy.


I went to bed that night;
A small smile on my face
And this tiny spark still glowing so bright inside of me.
And that’s when I heard it.

When all was still, except for
The air that filled my lungs,
And the beating of my heart
In synch with the rhythm of the universe:
I heard it.

It was a purpose.
My purpose.
  
It has only been a few days now,
But I know I was right.
Positive.
Because I’m doing okay.

It’s not that I have gained immunity to pain,
Or that some magic has been endowed upon me:
It’s just that I’m not afraid of hurting any more.

And that's just it—
The simple story of how I’ve come to learn,
The most important lesson I have ever learnt, to date.
Renee Dec 2014
Why is there a good
in goodbye?
Because there's always a reason behind one.
Everyone will ask you why,
and all you can say is babe,
you don't see things from my perspective.
I could leave,
but never without a reason
Don't hurt me,
don't use me,
don't bother me,
don't come to me crying at 1 a.m
because she isn't me
and I won't leave
there's plenty of reason
reason that you will never see,
because you can't see through my eyes
and I don't have to explain a **** thing to you
I'm not obligated
There's a reason there's a good in goodbye babe
you'll just never see them
The reason I left was not of your being
It was that side of you kept well hidden, not for seeing
The preliminary basis of a concealed fact
A genuine warning sign maintained with tact
It restrains your hands and demeans your worth
While contemplating the test next time around that you'll see Earth
Slender body in my arms but your vision is crying
A feeling so horrible to give up trying
Dying each day to be born anew
With Depraved Heart sentience for filling that shoe

At first in your voice I heard inspirational phrases
Peering through the rain for better weather phases
Fighting and twisting to match their ennui
But you bounded through all the reciprocity
Catching the vapor updraft with that shy grin
Remembering the skin you're wearing is genuine
You march to that drum beat sounding the lightning storm
Of A cold heart blowing in the wind, unaware that it's warm

So in breaking your heart you'll hear love again and take flight
Prance with every step and paint a newly blank canvas full of fight
The part of you crying, "missing puzzle piece hidden in plain sight!"
Is the very same light within you I've seen shine so bright
And know I came to realize by the end of this night...
The next day and Tomorrow are yours to write
This poem is dedicated:
Amitav Radiance Dec 2014
If not dwarfed by the
Everyday challenges
And the sameness
Let’s reach for the
Window ledge
We may have lost sight
Of the outside world
Tinted glasses
Reflected the rays of hope
Only darkness within
Stretch beyond
And reach for it
To view a whole new world
Victoria Peace Dec 2014
I come from ****** noses and scraped knees.
Bright blue eyes holding onto the promise of tomorrow
that will never come.
I come from optimism,
forever filled with the hope of
something better.
I come from sugar coated lies
Spoken from caved lips of hidden truth.
I come from pangs of anxiety, balled fists and damp eyes.
I come from the heartbeat in my ear drums that cannot be escaped.
I close my eyes, but fire burns brighter in the darkness.

I come from misconception.
I begin to understand the world for what it is.
I come from a new beginning; hopeful of a better start to something new, but forever fearful.
I come from power, of a stronger person that has been painfully carved along the way.
It is all a matter of perspective.
Clover Dec 2014
Even the most tragic of things
can be beautiful,
if only seen
from a different perspective.
And although we are kept miles apart, the only thing keeping us connected
is the distance,
and well,
*I think that's beautiful.
IsReaL E Summers Dec 2014
Manic spells have gripped him well
the ups and downs his worthy crown
Kingly view, but worldy hue
He doesn't find much laughter.
He slew his enemies, with righteous idignation,
But wealth, (it seems) is the mightiest nation.
(...)
Hesitation.
Is He worthy? (Of his crown)
Can he lead? (His children)
...
reflecting,
The war begins.
He smiles, he grins.
"We win"
Past sins...
Hold no weight; When the path is straight
& narrow
Firey arrows...
Quenched!?
With which whench?
Hath hitch hence!
Another False-pretense.
"Such non-sense"
...
"Haha shutup"
^-^
...
He picksup'
Hisword.
(Honed.
Sharp.
An Awe-inspiring, blade of Legend.)

And counts the costs of the reward.
How can He afford.
To not:
See?
"To see or not to see"
Even an insect, is given royal title, for a reason.
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