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anotherdream May 12
Should I call myself a traitor
For not honoring my needs
When I fall for you again
When I'm struggling to breathe

In the pool of old regrets
I'm still asking what it means
As I'm sinking to the floor
As I'm drowning to be free

I lament my current ignorance
For forgetting certain things
Like when I laid down in the dirt
From admitting our defeat

There's no basis for return
If you're always in my dreams
I had finally let you go
Until I ruined everything

I shouldn't play with fire
When my heart is made of weeds
But I was so desperate for attention
And the comfort it can bring

So I'll call myself a traitor
Cause I'm only hurting me
When I'm crawling back to you
And am on my hands and knees
In this poem I lament getting back with the girl who caused me so much heartache. It's as if all my effort into moving on from her and recovering was for nothing, because as soon as I talked to her again, I fell right back to square one. After the fact, I have adjusted and just keep my distance but in that moment, I had much regret of communicating with her after years of pain.
Departures and Arrivals.
The dust hasn't yet settled on the torn up trail behind me.
Particles still linger in my hair, my teeth and in the air
around me like they own me.
I wonder, even though it seems like I've dearly departed, if it
will ever settle and  I don't necessarily expect it to because
maybe it has to sock it to me
so no sweet amnesia can shew away the memories of what it was
that got me here to this place of growing respect for all the
potholes and all the unpaved roads.

Driving in the dark tree monsters slide bye one after the other,
their silent dialogue giving me the shivers like so many other
things in the world do,
cold sweat running down my face as the  car rattles and  the
music stops and there's only the sound of dripping rain. Tears,
like rain aren't separate  from  sweat.
They're constanly recycling  and bleeding into one another like
night bleeds into day. I get that and I even love that because where
does hardship go if  not to tears?

Stuffing grief into the cracks of the bodymind is a recipe for sick. I get
that too. People may tell ya to take a pill, have a swig, do anything to
bully your discomfort away but you sense
and you know that you sense and only you can sense what it is you
have to do. So you keep on going because what has drinking  the
sweet numbing  Koolaide ever done for ya anyway?

And it's a relief to come out of the comatose to watch the rose-gold
sunrise coming up over your landscape as your gears shift on the
broken hill of this awakening;
laser sharp beams of light gutting the nonsense out of ya, your feet
touching down onto solid  ground  and you feeling shaky but all
aglow in your skin
and this departure is telling every cell in your body that you have arrived.
There will be other departures and other arrivals, other days and other
nights but for now,
in this moment you have arrived and you don't give a **** about and
you're almost grateful for the dust and the  particles and the freaky
and the the not so freaky  fallout hovering over ya like a halo

The renewal of the spirit, thru departures and arrivals...leaving and entering new phases, lessons absorbed, learning to navigate through the dark, coming out of denial, allowing, sitting with the pain and uncertainty and coming clean with self.
Eve K Mar 2022
I love you softly like
I love the delicate wind on a hot summers day,
The refreshing swirl of a breeze in the summer sun.

I love you softly like I love the autumn.
The leaves changing, melting into the trees.
The golden tone, matching the evening sunset.

I love you softly like I love a motorbike ride.
Sitting, my legs on the side.
The wind rushing through my hair.

I love you softly, like a gazing stare.
With a stranger I'm yearning to know more about.
A refreshing drop of rain in a desert draught.

I love you softly, and I need not more.
My heart is still a little sore,
From past loves whose storm riled up inside me, exasperated from the fire.
With pure lust, intent and desire.
It burnt me. And I them. And it was not what I wanted.
Sparks flying, destroying all that was there.
And in my eyes, the hate, the long wait, of wanting something more.

I have been in pain, I have felt the brutality that love can amass.
As I fear it will not last.
Waiting to be destroyed from the inside out.
Screaming inside, wanting to shout.

But here I am, calm as I can be,
Sitting under a tree,
With a breeze with no freeze.
Smiling in the summer sun,
protected by the shade.
Not wanting to fade,
From this dreadful world,
Which has become a little better since I met you.

I love you softly and there's not much more I wish to do.
Eve K Feb 2022
Think positive thoughts.
It's easier said than done
Time takes its course
Developing, life has just begun.
There's so much life to live.
There's so much love to give.
So much hope to receive
So many words to believe.

So if you're feeling down,
put on your golden crown
Be the goddess you know you are
The big bright,  star
and shine.

Shine so bright, no-one can turn out your light.
Keep reaching for those golden gates
Nothing will bring you down, not the weights
Of the past or the present,
Appreciate being a convalescent
Recovering from hell
Was stuck in the swell
Now thriving, surviving and glowing.
Keep watering yourself, growing.

Keep on going, keep on going keep on going....
improbably divine, it happened still.
reborn, rebuilt, rebroken and rejoined,
like grass that grows across the asphalt scars,
some different kind of me with changing will.
adapting. morphed. you know, sometimes,
the thing what hurts you so, so much
can turn into a blessing in disguise.
or so I hope.

took out the glass shards from my feet,
then stepped one time, ignoring pains,
covered the road with my blood stains.
it hurts, but so important still. and so,

I'm ready now to step again
and re-discover
and i'm trying to make sense of it
Descovia Jul 2021
Her heart is endless, infinite.

Her love is deep like the ocean.

Her love is like a magical potion

Rituals in transition

Illuminating lights in motion

The sparkle in her eyes captivating

The joys she creates to enjoy the world are fascinating.

Her laugh? Contagious
Her smile? Breathtaking
the melody of her voice surrounding my entire being
I found my light, so long after being imprisoned by my shadow for so long.

I want nothing more, than to be tangled in her embrace.

Entwined to her eternal grace

Held captive in her soul
drowning in her ambiance

Your love is life!

I will cherish and protect it with my very own.

For now and forever more!

*Elizabeth Outlaw & Descovia
Dave Robertson Mar 2021
Walking with the sun behind
eyes fixed on my worn boots
as they try to find the old stride
each time they lift, this still winter light
flicks ahead under them, easy as,
like nothing’s changed
but when they fall, this light cuts,
mud grips and boots go blind
Dave Robertson Mar 2021
A pin
asking just enough of the taught surface
to make it give

bang-burst a gust
of shameful, baleful disappointment
snuffing embarrassed cake candles

or gush a splat of misery
to spatter snot and tears
halting high squeals on a summer lawn
as eyes look for answers
Tony Tweedy Dec 2020
How can I feel the extreme pain of loss and deepest dark despair,
from something that reality affirms was never mutually there?

I loved you and my heart stands witness to every lie you told,
yet it is I who loved for real that is left to feel the frigid cold.

You made me feel both my very best and my very worst,
leaving my mind torn by memory that is both loved and cursed?
Only those you give you heart to can make you feel like this.... how does a mind reconcile both the happiness and sadness of such emotions? The lies still hurt.
Bleurose Dec 2020
Oh Dionysus.
How I miss you,
but your me anxiety.
It makes people hate me, I can't stand to be

I can't say I don't miss dancing with you
But it's not much of a party with just the two of us.
No one else is willing to dance for long.

There was a time where you were,
my only friend
and you would smile and take me in your arms while
I sobbed and enjoyed the haze of your being.
I in turn, worshipped you. Even if research, candles and hymns, libations of your own blood and my perfume could hardly be enough.

It's all I have, my lord.

While I miss the roiling, twisting madness of your magnificence
I shouldn't be there.
I want to be, desperately
but I pick up a bottle and look at myself in disgust and shame.
It's not you, it's me.
This is far from a disillusionment of gods.
I will still dance, my lord, just perhaps not as closely as before.
I miss drinking and my lord Dionysus.
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