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 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
Ryan Holden
Before I started draining parts of me
onto this page
I couldn't see for the clearest of paths,
I would dwell,
Hide away in my own safe house
Of saturated stories.

I would scratch my head catching gravity
between my fingertips.
A color would be a rainbow in black skies
of circling crows.

The floor around me would move
dancing along,
It would lead me and my pen to paper
Like a knight's sword to stone.
I would wonder why my mind
Could paint,
My thoughts would explode
into millions of fireflies.

Sometimes I would see the most
flawless imagery
But I couldn't write it down for the awe
of being lost,
Inside my own world of untold stories,
and poetry.
For the times I don't get chance to write down my thoughts!
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
JeanT
You came to me in the spring when I wasn't looking for anything
We quickly sprung into summer and things heated up
But fall rolled around and you fell away like the beautiful leaves on the giant oak trees
Winter blew in and our love grew as cold as the falling snow

Spring came around and new trees began to bloom

The truth is, not all tress make it through the winter and fall was never my favorite season.
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
JeanT
Once More
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
JeanT
Heart so pure
Eyes so blue
I'm dancing with disaster
And it looks a lot like you
Just one more dance
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
JeanT
Tell Me
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
JeanT
You are a wild blur of my memory. Your tousled hair and little kid grin.

I was 18 and you had calloused hands and a soft voice.

One time in the middle of the night I made you laugh, you returned the favor. You were wearing a sweatshirt even though it was hot.

You took my hand and spun me around. We fell into each other and fit like puzzle pieces. Our legs tangle when we sit across from each other. You’ve pressed your palms against mine. You watch over me, your green eyes brushing mine.

I think we both imagined at that moment the way our lips would feel against each other’s, the way your arms would feel around my waist, and mine around yours.

I want to know you. I want to learn all of your little things.

Tell me about the day your grandpa died. Tell me the song that gives you goosebumps. Tell me about how you love pizza and hate spinach. Tell me how your heart beats faster when you hear my name. Tell me about every little part of you. Tell me the words you’re scared to say.

Tell me.

Tell me everything. Tell me you don’t want this to end.

Oh God- I’m exploding and this is a love letter I’ll never send…
You can't escape my wondering mind
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
TS
Therapy
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
TS
He asks me,

"What do you hate about yourself?"

Suddenly, I am silent.


What do I hate?





What don't I hate?

- t.s.
 Jun 2017 Jenn Linh
Paul Jones
The space between ethereal measure,
  the nothingness connecting our divide.
This lack of substance is surreal, obscure
  are old memories of sharing your side.
Ours is the spirit, by which we are bound,
  a realm we share where timelessness persists.
Where shapeless planes carry a formless sound,
  the self becoming selfless, unresisting.
The place you’ve gone does not belong to me
  and in the space between us, seeds are sown.
The tree of life sways softly with the breeze
  while you continue, beyond what I know.
Like wings that carry over to another shore,
  you are my leaf on the wind. I see you soar.
Sonnet - 18 -
Original version: 27/09/15
This version: 23/03/17

I can share this now.

Dedicated to my Father.
I wrote this sonnet for him and read it at his funeral.

It explore's the experience of still feeling deeply connected to something that is no longer. Even after their death, people still affect you and change you. Pieces to a puzzle are still being put in their place as we mirror ourselves and our actions to what they might have done. We learn about ourselves and the world from these reflections.

On an even deeper level, this sonnet explore's the ethereal connections we have to our ancestors and the past. Observing that, what is lost to us will be reborn, through it's decay, feeding new growth. The cycle of life.

          "I am a leaf on the wind.
               Watch how I soar".
                                               - Wash, Firefly
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