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Eniola Aug 21
What is that playing in your head,
that clip suffering that has captured your reality,
and plays them like a broken track record.
If its' not that then it's your fantasy,
that's trying to break free and become reality.

But fear of judgment from the world,
retracts us back to this cruel shell of a mindset
that has been made known by our ancestors.
All those hopes, wild imaginations, and our fantasy,
that is being rejected by those same ancestors,
who vowed to guide us,
but now from their hands do they destroy us.

We who are present history should learn to break free,
to carve and crave our hopes, dreams, and fantasy,
that has been bottled and then turn it to passion.
dreams are our future and present because the more dreams you bottle up the more pain you feel, so, therefore, learn to express them the right time because at that right is the only time you will feel alive.
Lundy Jul 5
I remember our first conversation. We talked with about mermaids.  You made a joke about sea foam, I was intrigued.

I remember you asking me out the first time. And I remember telling you I didn't think you were ready.
You lashed out. I was freaked out.

I remember you leaving without any warning. You decided you needed a change, dropped out of all your classes and hit the road.  For 6 months you sent me pictures of campsites. Pictures of elk and bear you'd shared sunsets with. Pictures of you next to cliffs you'd scaled.  Via texts you recouned a story of how you'd climbed a mountain just to find reception to call your ex. I remember wondering why you would tell me that? I felt slightly jealous. It turned me off. I remember you complaining to me that she was a "feminist" I said "Good for her." I remember sending you Gloria Steinem quotes with every campsite picture you offered. On your way back to California,  you asked to see me again.

I remember our first date, and how you asked if you could kiss me. I offered you my cheek, and later that night I couldn't stop thinking of your lips. You texted me that you wanted more. I remember touching myself as I fell asleep.

I remember you telling me you would die for me.  Laughing I told you, "That's so dramatic." You smiled confidently and told me you loved me. I said it back. We were watching 28 Days Later. I remember thinking we were so lucky.  

I remember building a bed out of blankets and pillows on our empty apartment floor. I remember countless trips to the hardware store, we were determined to build our own furniture.  I remember planting a garden, and proudly harvesting the garden. I remember frequent candle lit dinners. I remember your hands traveling up my skirt as I poured you more wine. I remember I wasn't wearing underwear. I remember us spilling the wine.

I remember telling you that you were my bestfriend. I remember pretending to be okay when you told me you already had a bestfriend and a soulmate  but that I could be your wife.

I remember the first time you hurt me. You regretted it immediately. Held my face in your hands I remember you kissed my cheek, again.  I still trusted you.

I remember the first time I hurt you. My off-white satin dress reflecting the moon. My animosity verbal daggers, I was so ****** I forgot to be ashamed. Sometimes I still forget.

I remember you telling me that I will never be your priority. I remember transfering money into your bank account. Weekly. I remember working 12 hours and coming home to give you head. I remember falling asleep on your chest as you massaged my neck. I remember thinking that was love.

I remember finding women's underwear in our laundry. An earring in our bedroom, and butterly hair clips in your car. I remember not believing you when you told me they were your sisters. I remember letting it go.

I remember that time you threw me against the dresser. I remember you telling me it was my fault. I remember letting it go.

I remember with you I had found a sister and a mother. I remember realizing these women I loved were victims of abuse. I remember realizing I was a  victum of abuse. I remember being disgusted with myself. I still wanted you.


I remember almost getting murded. And how much I struggled to feel alive after. I remember asking you for help. You told me it's not your responsibility.  

I remember the anguish.  I remember thinking about suicide. I remember telling you I didn't know how to survive. I remember you telling me I was weak.

I remember you hovering over me. Intimidating me. I remember telling you to step back. I stood on my tippy toes to look big too. And when you didn't back down, I chest bumped you. I remember you weren't sure if you should laugh or fight. I remember you telling me you didn't love me anymore and you hadn't for some time. The next morning I woke you up with my mouth on you.

I remember you leaving me. I stood in the doorway and promised myself I would not beg. I let you walk away. An hour later you returned, but not for me. You took your gun and video games and again I stood at the door. This time I begged you to stay. I remember you walking away. I remember our dreams. I remember understanding that I was ******* done.

I remember packing under a THC haze. I remember leaving my lingerie for you to find in our closet.  In your closet. The black one with the garter belt on display. I remember Bodie having diarrhea on the carpet. I left it there. I also left you with enough money for two months rent. I remember you texting me telling me I owed you more.

I remember the day I ran out of clean underwear. I was late for work and so I wore your sisters, or were they your ******? They fit comfortably. I felt sick. I ***** called my neighbor when I got off work. I remember opening wine at 3am and doing everything to him that you used to ask me to do to you.

I remember you reaching out to me over some ******* excuse. I told you that you had already lost me but that wasn't yet true. I just had absolutely no faith left in you.

I remember that none of it was ever worth having you.
Eva May 26
Charcoal stockings
jet black gowns
Many tears
broken vows
Gone are the days
When laughter was a constant
Gone are the days
When photographs weren’t yellow
Gone are the days
When it was easy to love
Gone are the days
Of promiscuity and senseless passion.

Every moment held with bated breath
Every sunrise led to your morning texts
Every memory I hold of you
A whisper of my love for you
Every minute, every second
Every inch of my sinew and skeleton
Sing songs of love and longing
When I'm not with you.

Your faith unrelenting
Your love uncompromising
Every silence, every kiss
Like a solemn, sweet promise

My love for you tears me and wears me
And makes me anew
It makes me and breaks me
And changes me for you
For the better or for the worse
I will always be true to you
Beyond the end of days.
Always.
Natalia May 15
It was sweet innocence,
found in TV and films.
Oh, such simpleness.

In sheds, in the woods.
It was whimsical and fun.
Unspoiled by dark moods.

Countless nights in front of a screen.
Just as many mornings running late,
Building a foundation in-between.

Unknown to us both,
Life wouldn't be kind.
We still found growth.

Look at you now,
Gone from strength to strength,
As if having given a vow.
Knowing someone for 9 years has blessed me with good memories and gray memories. I'm thankful for them all.
When I said my vows,
I spoke them from my heart.
I took your hand in mine
And kissed the world goodbye.

I bade goodbye to all
That I no longer needed
To lies, betrays, and hurt
That heart my knew indeed.

I listened to your vows
They were so honey-sweet.
But little did I know
That they were not to keep.
Please let me give you the stars
And by the stars, I mean my hand
And by my hand, I mean my love
And by my love, I mean my life

Please let me be your wife
And by wife, I mean your safe place
And by safe place, I mean your yoke
And by yoke I mean your here and now

Please let me be your vow
And by vow, I mean your rock
And by rock, I mean your castle
And by castle, I mean your treasure

Please let me be your forever
Jim Davis Dec 2019
Most beautiful...
at the vows...
then again...
at 50 years!
I’m at 33 years... 17 years to go!  There is a joke - Joe is crying in the corner at his 50 yr wedding anniversary... his best friend asks... “Joe why you crying? This is a beautiful day!” Joe says...” “Her Dad said I either had to marry her or go to jail for 50 years... I’m crying cause I coulda been a free man today!”
Mandi Wolfe Nov 2019
We were both writers.
You with a fountain pen and moleskin notebook  
I with anything I could scrawl on -tears always just at the edges of me
and in this way we began to author our life together.
We put pen to paper that first night
drunk on gas station liquor and on not feeling so alone.
Our hungry bodies filled page after page
with what I would come to believe
would be my magnum opus.

In your wedding vows you said that we would
“work together to fill the pages with
conflict, desire, pain and all that makes life real
so that we can appreciate all that makes life good”
You were not much of a co-author though
preferring instead to write alone at night while I slept
How many times did I revisit a previous chapter
only to find that you had introduced a new character
or a dark and bizarre plot twist without my knowledge?
Eventually these discoveries would become as predictable
as the indignant denials
eventual apologies
and promises that would always follow them

lather, rinse, repeat

Over years these edits and additions
would knock the air from my lungs
completely shaking my confidence as a writer.
With cramping hands I would try to rewrite the bad parts
though my scribble marks did little to mask the words beneath.
Words that once had flowed as easily and copiously as I had for you
now came only in fits and starts
each new chapter torn from the bones of my bones.
How many times did the ten eyes we wrote in
watch as writers block turned to writers rage
producing furious missives that would tear holes in pages without warning?
Still even as my teeth-torn hands turned arthritic
I couldn’t seem to just put down the ******* pen
Because it was our story
and because I loved it
and because I loved us
and because I loved you.

I ended our story with a semicolon
Its already faded form staring up from my ring finger
a reminder that I could have chosen to end my story but didn’t.
You once told me that a good author always employs irony
and I have always been a better writer than you’ve given me credit

                                                   ;
Let me take you there
to the place you felt peace
Where you can rest your heart
and to share your vows

With every step we take
My heart finally realized
what my eyes cannot see
That you were once mine
But will forever be his
To every broken dreams
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