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 Apr 2021 sheila sharpe
AE
You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland
“You have to move, get up.”
“I don’t want to.”
“This is sad you need to get over yourself.”
“I’m broken, and I don’t think I can be fixed.”
“Then fake it. Get up and put on a smile.”
“It hurts too much; I just want to cry.”
“No crying! It’s not worth it.”
“But I just can’t let go…”
“You have to move on. It’s the only way.”
“Please, all I want is five minutes to let it all out.”
“You’re pathetic. Fine. Five minutes.”
“Thank you,” said the heart.
“You’re welcome,” said the mind.
And the heart and mind cried together.
Just for five minutes.
LHB 2019
 Sep 2020 sheila sharpe
R
I learned
to plant the seeds
of happiness.
There are flowers
blooming
where the scars
used to be.

R.M.
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
 Aug 2020 sheila sharpe
Isabella
I could chew the skin off of my thumb,
Or force my teeth to bite my tongue.
I could eat my lip til it goes numb,
Or press the air out of my lungs.

I could scratch my arms until they bleed,
Or dig my nails into my cheeks.
I could swallow copper I don’t need,
Or hold my throat til I can’t speak.

I could break my bones to set me free,
Or feel my crimson tingly seethe.
I could rub my eyes til I can’t see,
Or exhale deep so I can’t breathe.

The violence fills my mouth with cherries,
Ever sweeter than before.
A taste unlike all the other berries,
And I salivate for more.
You may have to read this a few times to understand what I mean, however I encourage you to interpret it your own way.
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