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The distance that sets us apart
seems so vast when you compare
the distance of our hearts.
Meant to be?
Possibly, something I can see,
as if anything is ever a guarantee.
I find a void to fill the ache,
in the little things,
the little moments we share,
the words that always care.

I am not sure if I love
because of love.
Or simply,
because of who you have become,
always undone, never finished.

The world continues spin 'round,
as you continue to grow.
As the roots anchor themselves,
truth impedes the plot.  
But the distance we will be apart
cannot compare,
to the distance that once was
between our hearts.
All that I had I brought,
   Little enough I know;
A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
   A rose to match thy snow:
All that I had I brought.

Little enough I sought:
   But a word compassionate,
A passing glance, or thought,
   For me outside the gate:
Little enough I sought.

Little enough I found:
   All that you had, perchance!
With the dead leaves on the ground,
   I dance the devil's dance.
All that you had I found.
These chains hold me down
So much pressure is on me
You see me as a clown
You never understand me
I want to make you proud
It's so hard to do
When you only see the bad side of me

Now I'm crying but you don't see the tears
And I'm calling for you but you don't seem to hear.
When I'm dying you don't feel the pain I feel
Now I'm just waiting for something to change

You say you love me but I feel thats a lie
When I wanna give up you say I never tried
It hurts to know you can't see past the negativity
I love you just the same please listen to what I say!

Now I'm left in the dark, wondering why
Why do I have to hurt all of the time?
I feel sick and alone
I don't want to cry
Don't leave me alone
I'm shattered, I'm broke.
 Nov 2013 Taylor Smith
Lisa Zaran
At one end of the couch
you sit, mute as a pillow
tossed onto the upholstery.

I watch you sometimes
when you don't know I'm watching
and I see you. Who you are.

You are a self made man.
Hard suffering. You are grey
stone and damp earth.
A long scar on a pale sky.

The television is tuned to CNN.
The world's tragedies flicker
across your face like some
foreign film.

You are expressionless.
Your usual gestures ground to salt.

How do you explain yourself
to people that do not know you?
How do you explain to them,
this is me; that is not me.

However many words you choose
in whatever context with
whichever adjectives you use
could not compare.

Even you describing you
would not be you.
Not totally.

Your hands are folded
together, resting in your lap.
I study those hands until
every groove becomes familiar.

Like a favorite hat,
you wear your silence
comfortably.

I sometimes can not help
but wonder what we will
talk about if we ever
run out of things to say.

You are the curve
I burrow into. The strength
I borrow. You are the red sun
rising over the mountain.
You are the mountain.
Your smile was my everything,
The target for which I aimed,
Most lovely lips I’d ever seen,
Your body as great as name.
The jet black hair, Cloud sapphire eyes,
My treasure hunter seeked those gems,
Palpable love kept for such time,
At that moment I saw them,
I fell apart,
Pure beauty,
Hit me like a dart.
Blue moon on the sea.
-Last winter. Of a gorgeous name and blue eyes.
Dearest, for you I would only commit myself unto not a soul.
Why, you say, would I do that?
Simple, I am cruel.
Yet, not so much I would dare break your heart, for you see that is my goal.
I would love nothing more than to **** you sardonically with unsaid words, as I tip my hat.

Cynicism has never been so sweet while it plays with sarcasm, a duel.

Ah, you say my dear; you do not like my game?
What shall I do when you blatantly refuse to play?
It is such an intriguing, miraculous, subtle shame.

The wind it whispers, through you, sweet nothings, a cliché.

I do not understand why you, my love, must be so coarse.
Perhaps, it is a twisted and torn revenge for a wonderful inferno.
Yet, what have I done to deserve you to take me by force?

Passion, it has never before been so thorough.

If perchance you shall ever come to anything unsaid…
I shall not be in this ever present bed.
 Nov 2013 Taylor Smith
Ghenwa
be the best version of you
today
and every day

dear darling,
you made me a better me
you make me a better me
i find no lies in your smiles
i find no tears in your eyes
though i wish i could dig inside your soul
deep down inside your heart,
the way you dig deep down
in the dead land of my feelings
where no flower grows to survive
and no human can find home
you built a home deep down
you make the sun shine everyday
because you brought back the light to my day
because you make me smile to this day
words cannot express how thankful i am
not even this poem
you find no wrong in what i say
i find no reason why
you always know what to say
i don't know how
you're everything i am not
we're not opposites
we're not similar
it's different
we're just kids
two kids
we understand when others may not
it's like finding a place you belong
it's like turning the lights on after a long time in the dark
haunted by the thought that it might not last forever
a home is not easy to let go of
i don't want the sun to set
i've been missing it
like the waves miss the shore
like the old man misses his youth.
dear darling,
don't go
please stay
and wait for the sun to rise with me
stay through the stormy nights
be the anchor to my sinking ship
we don't have forever
we have a few decades
even less
and my dear darling,
each second is precious
to show you
that i appreciate you
as you are
as you will be,
the amazing person you will be
to my very dear friend, José. I am so grateful i have you in my life. You came in the storm and changed it to light. You know me so well. You're the solid rock i land on
In every poem, I've read and yet to read,
There are the words you will always see.
Shadows and secrets, kept in quiet hearts,
Pain and emotions, and being torn apart.

In every stanza, and every verse,
Love and war, breaking down when everything hurts.
Butterflies and blades and echoing fears,
Dreams being lost and drowning in tears.

They're in all of the lyrics, sonnets, and haikus,
The existence of sorrows and what you could lose.
We escape the suffering, and all of the lies,
Death's of flowers, and glimmering eyes.

There are the words, that are always repeated,
We use them like weapons, when the battle gets heated.
They are our languages, of beginnings and ends,
This is what we scream when we've lost our friends.

Though they be overworked and overused,
They are our comfort when we're being abused.
These are the words of the abandoned races,
and the language we use to give meaning to emotionless faces.
Have you noticed how often the same words show up in completely different poems? i always thought that was interesting...and for my first poem on Hello Poetry, I think it worked out well/
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