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I am stubborn.

I would probably stub my toe on the same leg, of the same table, repeatedly, over some period of time, instead of making sure that said table, and said leg, never meet, my poor little toe.

Which is fairly easy, but instead, I must now walk awkwardly, because it hurts to put pressure on my bruised foot. I curse under my
breath. I am upset, yet,

I'm not sure if I can simply stop falling.

I am stubborn.

I would probably break my heart, by entrusting it to the wrong hands, of the same girl, repeatedly, over some period of time, instead of making sure that said hands, and said girl, never meet, my poor little heart.

Which sounds fairly impossible, so instead, I must now breathe awkwardly, because the bruise placed inside my chest is unbearable.
I curse at myself for breathing, I am in agony, yet,

I'm not sure if I can simply stop falling.
Pain is pain
 Jul 2014 Tark Wain
Tiffany
Me
 Jul 2014 Tark Wain
Tiffany
Me
He makes me feel perfect
Which is far from how you do
I feel loved and cherished
Something with you I never knew

He tells me that I’m beautiful
And I could almost believe it’s true
If it weren’t for those years
You spent convincing me your view

If only you were a nightmare
I could wake from in the morning
And find him there instead
My perfect prince charming

But the nightmare is my life
And he is just a dream
I escape to in the night
When the world is not what it seems
13w
I'm the closest to stable I'll ever be
And I'm still so *insecure
 Jul 2014 Tark Wain
Stacie Lynn
You always tell me the name of your favorite book
Yet the next month you tell me of the one you've read that you like one hundred times better
You've told me your favorite color
But once your eyes have rested upon a new one,
Your favorite color alters to the one you find more appealing
You always listen to your favorite song
But by now you've played on repeat at least hundreds of different "favorite" songs of yours
This is why I'm scared when you call me your favorite
And I constantly fear that when someone better crosses your path
I will be tossed over your shoulder like a piece of trash
And forgotten for eternity
Living in my world
All alone.
I no longer answer to
My phone.

I live with my stories
My nightmares
At home.

Succumbing to my fancies
My wiles
Little stepping stones.

Abandoned by humanity
Unthroned.

An afterthought
Pile of bones.

I love in this world
All alone.
 Jul 2014 Tark Wain
Paige
The dream
 Jul 2014 Tark Wain
Paige
The big dream is to
one day publish a book
of my poetry.
Not for money, or fame,
but for me.
It may not be on the horizon
today,
but I have no doubt
that one day you may
be reading this,
written in ink
on a crisp white page,
with my name on the cover.
But until the day that
my little book is sitting among
the greats,
I will keep writing, practicing,
suffering, smiling,
and trying.
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