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Kristen Hain Jan 2015
Seven
Stay lucky, get lucky, feel lucky
Seven has been just the opposite for me
Still a beating reminder of required change

Even when time has paused itself in your presence
Eternally, the seconds tick in my mind with
Endearing memories and happiness that felt like our
Endeavors would be infinite

Verifiably distraught with knowledge of the
Vacancy that soon would destroy both of our
Vessels that held hearts, hands, and futures we in-
Vested in each other so certain, so real

Either the number or the letters within held
Experiments with the chance of the game or our
Eyes could not see what exactly was in our hands
Eradicated the problem to reveal truth

Never had the trail felt continually
Narrow, the unraveling rope formed
Nooses in the number that haunts me, he
Nurtures the time, while I stay standing

Seven months since you left me.
Courtney Gaura Jan 2015
It flows through the air
Unabated by the time of the past
It whispers if you dare
To listen, but in its place
A dreaded affair
The flag at half mast
A soldier at heart, in evil's lair
Run in a haste
Because your mind is a lier
Life goes fast
So you better love it while it lasts
Because only seven things will
Never lie
Anyone want to help me with the title?

Just a retrospective on life. ....
XxX Jan 2015
When I was 7 I learned how to tread water.
It didn't take long for me to catch on.
I've been treading water for 10 years now.
It's hard to keep your head above water when the waves are this heavy.
It's even harder to keep your head above water when you want to drown.
There's no one to save you if you sink.
There isn't any warning for a wave.
You just keep treading.
-N.P
Life, is a walk up the seven steps.
Step one, is the base of all existence.
Step two, love's own creative evidence.
Step three, the force of life is connected.
Step four, the stone is held here.
Step five, one's voice is heard through all fours.
Step six, everything else becomes clear.

Step seven, connects with one.
The seed of life is planted
So that a new tree grows, more
Than the sapling that dropped it
the answer lies here.
Seven Years Have Gone

Since the search for her began
When our little girl appeared
In the Blue Dawn
When a man
In a white robe
Showed me our little girl
Who had yet to be Born

The Blue Dawn
Saved my life
And pointed me in the direction
Of an old lover
With a flame that had yet to be ignited
Though it was tempting on several accords

She was one who actually thought I was awesome
Despite knowing my imperfections
Someone whom I'd love to see as
My Wife

The stars and dancing lights of the sky
Show in her eye
We both had admiration
For one another
For taking the chance to find our dreams
And actually making it

I have learned she sees me in the same light
Making me yearn for her smile
Her Eyes
Her Spirit

To once again see
The Blue Dawn
Grace Jordan Dec 2014
My green eyes stare into the crowd of my memories, pinpointing all the moments in which I realized I wasn't good enough. I look at others' pasts and want their, want their histories to be my own, so the pain can be expelled from my memories and only happiness remain, but I am not bandit of time, I cannot take what isn't mine. I can only accept what is left behind.

Her red hair, my red heart, the red wrath I feel in my soul at the clarity I feel knowing that all these moments, these flaring flames in my life-fire, have led me to believe the one thing no young woman should never believe; I will never be good enough.

Broken glass in a broken pane, I lay shattered by each fist pounded into my face. I spent years reflecting others, putting their image before mine, only to get smashed and bashed and banished to the planes of Asphodel, left to die in my own misery. Left to my own devices and own lax, to give up and to give out never to receive again, and let myself fall into the darkness.

Yet I fought, in the worst way I could. Smiles lie and words hide, as the demon below lay his puppet hands on my heart, and even when my soul screamed for freedom with tears most needed, I let my pride champion over my sanity. Bottle up the pirate ship, Grace, it'll look so pretty on your shelf, and look out of place in your heart. Remember, you're no thief.

I hoarded the good times and the love in my heart like Smaug, the great and terrible, solidifying my body as a Lonely Mountain with a maddening crystal at its core. Maybe its only fitting I am short in stature, for I have dragon madness upon my heart, set like a promise to myself that the bottle on the shelf? it will never open, and I will never let the stone walls of my smile fall. This mountain was my domain, and no one was going to destroy it.

Until they did. I was a glutton and I ate and ate the hearts of others until it came back upon me, like a righteous knight set on showing me the error of my monstrous ways. They cut me down, and broke through my glass and forced open that bottle until I could hide no more. The dragon with the stoic walls and pretty smile was revealed, and it drove people away.

Desperate for love, affection was sought in the worst way possible. Body sold for attention and affection, the defeated dragon, the broken glass, the faulted whatever I was was left open and unable to find solace. The window into the mountain was burst open and there was no going back. Fear, pity, worry emanated from those left in my life. But I was reckless, and I no longer cared for this vessel that held m demon soul. I simply wanted the pain to go away.

Then someone dared enter my keep, and hear my whispers, the weak ones, the only ones my heart dare still speak, and they whispered back, "You are always good enough'.

And that was when everything changed.
Randi G Dec 2014
I wonder if it’s true
That in seven years,
My skin will be brand new.
Just like I’ve never been
Touched by you.
I’m not sure how I’ll cope
With the fact that my flesh
Agrees we were never really
Meant to be.

*(r.e.)
Just Melz Dec 2014
He didn't, and that was that.

There's no going back and erasing the past.

Life's too short not to forgive and forget.

Sometimes, there's just no time to justify where everything went wrong.

Time is a battle, a war you won't win, but you gotta push along.

Keep moving forward, you can't change the past or make it come back.

He didn't, she didn't, they didn't. It's time to accept and be okay with that.
The daily for December 6th, by Sean Critchfield titled "Poem By Chance" (check it out, it's amazing), was an exercise using the seventh book on the shelf, the seventh line on the seventh page as the first line, and only seven lines. I hope I did it right.
kylie formella Nov 2014
i wonder when my skin will feel safe and comfortable again
i know you don't want to be
in this small room that smells like
my grandmother's clothes
(she died five years ago, did you know?)
your hands are on me and we can go ahead and pretend it feels natural
we're kids playing at being grown ups
with mommys high-heels
they have you walking on hell and the shoes are much too big
for your little feet
and the boys, wearing their father's ties which are much too long
they've got daddy's guns too, in the trunk
they've got daddy's drinking habits too
and you've got your big sister's cigarettes
why do they call it seven minutes in heaven when
this feels much more like the
firey place they call hell
we're all smiling, we're all laughing
we're upside down and floating in the sky
asking ourselves why
because we're too shy to say these words
aloud
too high to say these words
underground
we can leave the closet now,
its been far past seven minutes
Autumn Nov 2014
You're one out of seven billion.
That means there's about 6,999,999,999 other people
perfectly capable of taking your place.

You're seven billion out of one in my head.
And for some reason I am completely
incapable of getting a grip on anything else.
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