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I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.

Then, that day arrived and it was so **** hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.

Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug, whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.

I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish I could tell you about my day. And in the morning, **when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheet, I begin to lose you all over again.
This is one of my favorite Lang Leav's write. Just wanted to share here for i'm having the same feeling now. :)

Because I'm in awe of her. And of you.
 Jun 2015 The Dragon Prince
ryn
.
**Crushes and••
infatuations•••
Are but tricks••
played by••••
the heart.••••
Promises•••
of love••••
That could••
tear you apart.••
Though you•••••
look to•••••••••••
The light of day.••••••
Listen carefully••••••••
To what I'm about to say.•••
I may be the one••••••••••
Who'd grace your thoughts••••
all day and night.•••••••••••••
But I implore you•••••••••••••••
to look past tomorrow••••••••••••••
Into the future that's out of sight.•••••••
You are ready to carve••••••••••••••••
Ever so recklessly,••••••••••••••••••
In your heart and thoughts•••••••
And in the words•••••••••
of your poetry.••••••••
But know that•••••••
These sweet nothings•
you chose to lay,•••••
Right now are•••••••
mere words••••••••••
With the intention•••••••
to sway.••••••••••••••••••
I feel the urge•••••••••••••••
To painfully declare.••••••••••
I feel the need••••••••••••••
To tell you what••••••••••
I've longed to bare.••••
That I'm not•••••••••••••
remotely interested,•••••••••
Nor am I taken in.•••••••••••
For your words•••••••••••••
have gone around••••••••••
I know where•••••••••
they've been...••••••
Should've revised••
your material•••••
Before trying•••••
on another...•••••
Because you••••
had conveyed••
the same•••••
to my sister!
Oh snap!

Best viewed on Apple iOS.
 Jun 2015 The Dragon Prince
Jim
I’ve done ill; I’ve done bad
B̶u̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶
B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶
So I had to say sorry
A̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶d̶a̶m̶n̶ ̶s̶i̶c̶k̶
Because it’s the right thing to do
E̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶’̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶
A̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶
T̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶p̶p̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶
And I’m guilty for committing
An unwritten crime; so, “I’m sorry”
M̶a̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶s̶o̶l̶e̶m̶n̶l̶y̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶
I’m glad you have forgiven me
I̶’̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶g̶l̶a̶d̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶n̶’̶t̶
For now, my heart is light;
no burden to carry.
T̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶d̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶,̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶.̶
I̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶.̶ ̶
B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶;̶ ̶
M̶a̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶.̶
THANK YOU!!!
D̶i̶e̶!̶ ̶S̶l̶u̶t̶!̶ ̶D̶i̶e̶!̶
For giving me a chance.
D̶i̶e̶ ̶s̶l̶o̶w̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶n̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶!̶ ̶
I̶ ̶a̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶
A̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶
A̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶
And being your friend again.
This poem is about someone who accepts reconciliation towards an enemy. The words in strikethrough are his real thoughts.
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
I spent
my life
designing a
border,
between myself
and the
world of
disorder
But the
border was
breached by
a world
so sick,
with hearts
of stone
and minds
of brick

©
Hard-wired to hold on
Forced to wait
Scouring spines
I can’t escape

I stepped into the unknown
                                                        A­nd,


Rugged teeth bite down on my flesh
Ripping me a gaping set
Drenched in blood and honesty
Convert it that to gunpowder too

My doubts tighten to a degree
Like rusty wires cutting my throat
Isn’t it already hard enough to swallow your beauty?

How can you tell I’m cold
If you’ve never touched my skin?
How can you tell I’m hurt
If there are no wounds?


Your voice is on the roof of my mouth


With every ounce of my blood left
And the very last of my breath in my lungs
I’ll let down my guard
And you’ll break me
                                      *
*again.
My Mikoto
I guess answers aren't found in the pouring rain

© Copywrite Lycan
"Do you understand the sorrow of a star that cannot return to the heavens?"

"Of course."

"What?"*

"It's like you said,
there's no remedy for memory."
Talking to the moon again
at least he answers.

© Copywrite
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