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 Sep 2018 Heather McCorkle
Hunter
I thought I would never see you again
I convinced myself I didn't want to
I knew it was a lie
Every time I breathed those thoughts
And then I saw you again

I knew you would remember me
Of course you would
After all the time we spent together
You knew who I was
But had very little memory of what happened
Especially after the first month

I tried to put the pain away
But it burned in my lungs to talk to you
It felt like knives along my skin to touch you
I couldn't breathe
But I pushed through

I thought I'd be mad at you
After what you did
And how you hurt me
I was so sure I'd hate you
But it was as if nothing had happened
As if no time had passed since it was good

I'd consider you my best friend
Sometimes it still hurts
I try to ignore it
Because being your friend
Is worth the pain
At least that's what I tell myself

Sometimes I think I might have fallen for you
Most times I think that's a terrible thing
But I really like you
And you don't like me
And it *****
But I know you can't change your feelings

I think I should try to forget you
I try to not text you ever again
I always fail in under a day
Missing you is so easy
Forgetting you is so hard

I know I should distance myself
I know I need space
I know you need space
I'm aware of what I've done
I've tried
I'm sorry

I'm not strong enough
The clashing waves whispered into my ears.
Standing in front of the Sapphire blue,
The warmth from the pale softness under my feet wrapped away my fears.
The calmness of the never ending ceiling left no clue.
The time passed slower than the emerald jewel departing into the foam.
The whiteness cast a shadow over me as it sang freely,
If only I could be like them and carelessly roam.
The clashing tides seduced me into it’s embrace, warmly yet eerily.
Will I be able to sink into the royal blue darkness?
Or will I be drifted off into the cold and empty waters
As the I closed my eyes and left myself to the painful sweetness,
“Nothing really matters”
The words she said flashed before my eyes.
The mesmerising yet deadly ocean,
resembled her under all her disguise.
It was the hidden side of her that she kept for so long, all the beauty and the emotion.
Her soul was the ocean and I was drowning in her charm
 Sep 2018 Heather McCorkle
q
i should have taken it as sign
when you told me
you hated poetry
not because
i need you to like
everything i like
or i need you to appreciate
everything i appreciate
but because
when i told you
what it felt like for me
to write poetry
and to read poetry
the feeling of being
grounded and understood
all at once
the feeling of
having somewhere to escape to
and finding a home
you still told me
you hated poetry
This is the story of a single soul.
Who from day one--
;Fought with all her might.
This is the story of  a dauntless being who's tears were forced out.
Even after keeping them hidden from their view.
A loud and intense soul that boasted an unusual combination of fire and ice. One that refused to let anyone bring her down.
This..is the story of how one day. She fought with all her might.
Trying to keep her head held high.
But they couldn't let her keep her pride.
They couldn't let others see what she truly was.
Because her intrepid ways were an insult to tradition and to thier power.
But like I mentioned before.  She knew no fear. And this is what happened.
All the Pushing. And yelling. High volumes of anger.
And the bitterness clawing at her.
But she's Still a wild flame.
Until eventually ;
-her head  was pushed against the floor with another's gruesome foot.
A polished,  cold leather shoe.
" respect me or fear the consequences. Who do you think you are?"
And so she sat there infuriated as she was, tears streaming down.
Hands tied back. Eyes looking down.
Because she knew who she was. She knew what she's capable of.  
But it causes them to feel intimidated and insulted. She's unlike anything anyone's ever seen before.
This is the story of how they tried to break her...
And succeeded.
And took away what made her..her.
And now she waits looking from the floor in rage....waiting.  
Not a happy ending ;no. A twisted story;yes.
But they'd better watch out.
Because silent fury always makes the loudest noise.
You can label me the names you like
You may mock me and say I'm ugly
or feeble-minded
But make no mistake
I'm proud to be an outcast,
an honor you will never break

Push me over the cliff
Break my limbs and wreck my head
But my soul you will never shred
And make no mistake
I'm proud to be an outcast,
an honor you will never break

Don't look me in the eyes
or shake my hand
Tell twisted lies
and point a gun at me if I withstand
But make no mistake
I'm proud to be an outcast,
an honor you will never break...
 Sep 2018 Heather McCorkle
Melo
Numb
 Sep 2018 Heather McCorkle
Melo
I just wanted to be happy
And in your eyes I saw the sun
Do you think that's why my wings melted?

I got too close
And my walls came undone
With them did my heart have to crumble?

I have to wonder
And feel free to be honest
Was the pain intentional or are you that oblivious?

I just wanted to feel
And now I am only numb
I can't rebuild my heart, will it matter in the end?
the angel amongst us

~for Alexander, master splasher~

flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns

~•~

the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both

two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression

the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?

this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!

little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future

the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer

the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing

but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity

“time to go”

the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,

as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics

"no go now,
now go later^"

though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs

one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself


that is the angle amongst us
^Surprising as it may be to most non-scientists and even to some scientists, Albert Einstein concluded in his later years that the past, present, and future all exist simultaneously. In 1952, in his book Relativity, in discussing Minkowski's Space World interpretation of his theory of relativity, Einstein writes:

Since there exists in this four dimensional structure [space-time] no longer any sections which represent "now" objectively, the concepts of happening and becoming are indeed not completely suspended, but yet complicated. It appears therefore more natural to think of physical reality as a four dimensional existence, instead of, as hitherto, the evolution of a three dimensional existence.
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