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 May 2017 JL Davis
Louie Clamor
I don't speak much of my feelings
Loud is my mind thinking of you
But quiet when you're around
Full of love I have for you
Overflowing jar of hearts,
Room full of roses, Pink skies
All of them I have since you came
Though, I can't express my thoughts
One thing's for sure,
As peaceful as the night's breeze,
My heart speaks of your name
In silence, I love you
I choose the silent love
I don't want to be vocal about it
Don't be mistaken
I love you truly
Straight path of love I see
I'll do anything
Even getting the moon and stars
Just to make you smile
But surely, I'll do it in the silence of our hearts
 May 2017 JL Davis
everly
the girl who always sat
in the back of the bus
was troubled.
i saw her everyday at
6:41 am.
when she'd come,
it didn't look like she had much but
I would see her with a
different style every time.
She'd walk over to the stop
holding something in
her jean jacket pocket.
she'd switch it around all
four pockets of her jacket.
She'd look around for a little while
check the time here and there.
She would ask the operator for a ride
every day.
i looked at her at times,
not in a bad way
which i guess made her uncomfortable
and i know this because
I'd see her write in her book a lot.
Forehead creased.
wild woman hair covering
her heart shaped face.
Leg up on the seat in front of her
trying to get a good angle
of her book.
Pen scribbling sentences that
didn't even look like it had
spaces.
i wanted to talk to her.
At least say hi
but i couldn't..
today the
troubled girl
held the item in her pocket
for a little while, then when i turned back
at her,
she had different creases on her face.
her gracious face
yet her mind was entangled by the *******
of her troubles.
She looked around the bus,
out of place,
as if she'd
lost something
not lost something
but
needed someone
needed someone's shoulder
to tear up on.
In fact,
she looked as if she lost the shoulder she used to cry on..
i really hope not.
i wanted to walk over.
But the muscles in my legs stopped working
my arms stopped working.
I looked away instead.
and she saw this
When i glanced to the
back once more,
she was gone.
Both of our hearts
stopped
working.
 May 2017 JL Davis
Rob K
Truth
 May 2017 JL Davis
Rob K
One day,
When I say "I love you",
Someone will believe me.

That will be the day,
I thankfully,
Will die.
This one I probably wonder more than most of my writes...  Did they get it?  Hm.
Away you put me,
Far from thought,

And the great distance,
What it tell,
As it truly befell,

Yesterdays love it flourished,

Todays,
To erase,

So away I am put,
A place you refuse to look.
 May 2017 JL Davis
JL Smith
Oh, how the echoes of your voice
Wake the terrors of my mind

Perturbed by deafening volume
Ceaseless in passing time

Subdued conscience
Manipulation at its prime

Questioning validity
Was I guilty of the crime?

Hush these demons, now
The evils mimicking the mime

Grasp that's what the wicked do
Attempt to create themselves within you

© JL Smith
 May 2017 JL Davis
Colleen Reilly
It’s fragile.
You shouldn’t drop something that can easily be broken.

The glass heart sits on the empty shelve,
Waiting.
And as time goes by the shine it once possessed,
Was gone.

With dust covering it,
it waits.

Waits for the one soul who’ll wipe away the dust,
And bring back the shine.

So the fragile glass heart,
On that empty shelve,
Waits for its pair.

Time flies and the heart is still waiting.
Dust continues to spread,
Hope begins to fall,
And loneliness consumes that once beautiful,
Fragile Glass Heart.
It’s sad how something once so admired can be so alone.

But that well known phrase,
“One mans trash, is another man's treasure.”
Shows to be true.

The hearts waiting comes to a stop,
When one other lonely soul ventures into the unknown.
He notices the Fragile Glass Heart,
and with the heart in hand he journeys home.

He cleans the dust,
Places it on a new shelve,
With other hearts.
And that Lonely Fragile Glass Heart,
Doesn’t feel so alone.
 May 2017 JL Davis
Mel Little
It ***** when you struggle
Because someone always has it worse than you, and you know that
But on your worst days you just want someone to talk to
And everything you have to say falls on deaf ears, or gets one upped by people who have it worse.
I know that I don't have it bad, I know that I am lucky.
But it doesn't mean that my problems are less real. It doesn't mean that I can throw my feelings under the rug.
Tell me how it feels to be second class because your life feels and seems so put together when your glue is melting at the seams
Tell me how to avoid drowning in the deep blue of your feelings that are overtaking your chest
Tell me what happens when your only friends don't have time for you anymore
And your complaints can't fall on the ears of the infant who didn't ask for a mess of a mother
Tell me how to live the way I'm supposed to in my glass house filled with dark corners of hiding away my needs to better serve the needs of others
Tell me how to survive
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