A fork and empty plate,
relics of last night's dinner.
Paint, brushes and thinner,
art never finished at this rate.

A jumbled deck of cards,
a game we had, it was amusing.
A single, lonely sheet of music,
how I wish I was a bard.

The only comb I own,
more a decoration than for combing hair.
Two coins, a single pair,
lucre, life's stepping stone.

A ring, not on my finger,
memories in scratches etched
Things to get off of my chest,
a single photograph of her.
That is all the junk on my desk.

Loved you yesterday
Love you still
Always have
Always will.
Loved you Willow Ray
Love you still
Always have
Always will.
Loved you rainy day
Love you motile
Everywhere have
Forever until.
Loved you Willow Ray
Love you still
Always have
Always will.
Loved you busy day
Love you hostile-
Anymore rove
If get kill.
Loved you Willow Ray
Love you still
Always have
Always will.
Loved you long way
Loved at mall
Out of move
When paid bill.
Loved you Willow Ray
Love you still
Always have
Always will.
Loved you holiday
Work at school
Guess you dove-
Nearby the dill.
Loved you Willow Ray
Love you still
Always have
Always will.

Still awaking ...

i'm still awaking ...
thinking and feel you ...
it's mid of night now ..
imagining you ...
as you were with me ...
as we are diving together ...
together ridding a same bed ...
with a much hot feelings ...
hot as that fires ...
gets from  a great volcano ...
covered up all of me ...
till i got crazy ...
so madly to you ...
to feel you with me so close ...
with me and so deep inside  ...
feeling you as a great knight  ...
riding on me with his sharp sword ...
riding strong and running so fast ...
with no mercy on me ...
with more pleasure ...
gives although the pains ...
till i got with no power ...
giving up all for you ...
to give me all my desires ...
this pleasure which i seek for ...
while i'm thinking of you ...
in this night ...

hazem al ...

Zan Balmore Jun 15

Anxious, strained, agitated, placid, still, dispassionate
Reference the DSM and of its many pages
Ask ad infinitum, Will you heal schism?
Lines of my shape in shade
seem monstrous when
I've been your part and whole
well before your birth
Not long ago you were
pale, semen-white
I breathed over
your mother's neck
I painted canvas
with color

Terry Collett Jun 12

The baby
still born
just the brief time
to hold

before they
took her away.
You didn't
want her

to be taken
to hold her close
to stare

at the sleeping
No farewell wave

or look making.
You wanted
to breath life
into her

small nostrils
kiss her into life
pray her eyes
would open

at the last moment
but the eyes
stayed closed.
Unmoving tiny

pink fingers
sculptured neat.
You wanted her
to suck

your milky dugs
but the lips
remained shut
pinky white

tingeing blue.
Just the still
born baby
and you.

Rick Warr Jun 12

time to stop
hunker down
celebrate silence
breathe fresh air
enjoy winter
the quiet season

I forget the best of certain seasons till i'm in them. This is a tribute to the best of Winter.

Irises dancing like they're on ecstasy,
My whole world continuously moving,
But I can't even tell,
Because I don't even know what still feels like.

Eyelids as heavy
As a dead body sinking in
the middle of the blue liquid nothing,
Where I gaze at my always shaking reflection
And don't even recognize myself.

All shades of dark  under my eyes
Where devils run circles,
Where melancholy rests in peace while creating a seductive hell.

May Asher Jun 3

i am not whole and you seem to be an almost
lie, an unreal silhouette, falling
over and over, your
vivid edges blurring into an
evanescent mist,
you do not know what it means to be human, but
our hearts still long for the wanderlust and
underneath the skin, our breaths still drag,
tangled in never ending tremors like
a possibility of us, knowing how to make it through.
let's not falter because we know about the
heartache, about the emotion undone,
about the breaths unraveled, about how you are
an empty idea of my unwritten poem, a
never-whole vagueness of the
distance suspended within our veins, within
your chest. I keep thinking about the untold secret,
onyx hair and eyes the color of an unknown hue
until the rainbow on the other side collapses.
do you wish to be deep enough to know
our accidentally misplaced
numbness / who is my
tether? I do not
know if I remember the sound of your voice, a
nothing dissolved in my emptiness, your
opacity scares me, I still
wonder if you care.

Fenix Flight Jun 1

Little Carole Jean
You were born to early
Only 5 months into my pregnancy
Born without a heartbeat

I held you in my arms
So tiny so fragile
8.6oz and only 21 inches long
But so beautiful and pure

You had your daddy's long legs
And my annoying chin
Nine Perfect Baby fingers
And Your tiny feet so cute

I'm so sorry babygirl
That mommy couldn't protect you
I failed you little one
Please can you forgive me.

I see how Daddy cries for you
His eyes show how much he misses you
You were his world, his little princess

I miss you so much
I miss you growing inside me
Watching your daddy wrap his arms around my tummy
And say he is on protection duty

I wish I could have watched you grow up
I can picture you in my mind
Dark unruly red hair
And bright blue eyes like daddy

Your dad would have had to chase all the boys away

I wish I could wake up from this nightmare
And erase this whole last week
Look down and see my bellies small bump
Can I go back to when things were good?

Rest Easy Carole Jean
Be safe up there ok?
You have a whole lot of people to meet you there
And a whole lot of people still yet to come

I will see you again one day
Until then please be good.
I cant wait to hold you again
And I know Daddy can't either.

We will be a family again one day
Until then you are always in my heart.
I will NEVER forget you
I dont think I ever could

I love you daughter
And forever always will
You are with me for eternity

My little baby Carole Jean

My daughter Carole Jean was born 5/26/17. Weighting 8.6oz and only 21cm long. Born still but never the less Still born. I love you babygirl and Mommy always will
phoenixfire May 27

I am nothing more than a journal.
People pour their soul into my skin and spine,
Slowly watching me break and wither, but they continue.
I am drowning in pages of sorrow
and sadness.
And I cannot come up for air.
But that is okay,
I am nothing more than a journal.
People pencil in their stories with hasty tongues and hurtful hearts.
They do not see that in turn I am hurting too.
For with every tale written, I am losing myself.
Not many pages are left.
But that is okay,
I am nothing more than a journal.
People use me to indulge in their thoughts,
and once they have had their fill,
they are gone.
There is a new journal to seek.
I am left battered,
Destined to be picked up once again,
Only to be read and reflected on,
Because I am of no substance, I am just a keeper of Theirs.
People read me but do not READ me.
Because I am nothing more than a journal,
And my true contents are blank.

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