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English Jam Apr 2018
Mountains on mountains erupt from the earth's chambers of burdened lava and collapse back into their hellish landscape just as quickly

Waves assault the beach in frenzied randomness, striking their mark upon the sand and washing it away in the same breath

Birds flail about, learning to sail the clouds while dolphins soar their vast expanse of golden sea

People in suits war with each other for ****** glory, sign a strip of paper agreeing to stop, then ignorantly carry on their violent pastiche

Far away, tucked behind his world of scattered phrases and pretentious works of art, the writer observes all this

patty m Jul 2018
In the pale beyond the moon
fossilized predators bay,
while stone footprints lead us nowhere.
We slide across meridians,
masked as silent shadows,
some run with wolves
and sometimes vanish
others are mummified
soon after they're born.
Lost souls, stray cats, fleas on the
backs of ubiquitous rats,
we flail ourselves with twisted hangers
sounding discordant notes.

Tattooed our blood rituals finalized
we peel ourselves from the edge
living knife sharp against the violence always flaring.
Beat up junk, reeking of smoke
the cruelty of it all and yet we reveal nothing,

Lionesque leaders stalk
jabbing their claws, partaking in torture,
now we are random prey;
no tower of control or greetings are chorused,
as we move alone or in pairs conversing only in signs and signals.
We align our sites on the bullet's trajectory,
superimposing ourselves on our enemy's vision,
Like demons spreading disease and infection
we fight until we die, or defiantly dance
in the bloodlust of future freedom.

Idols turned clay, the universe erupting
what do we make of it all?

Nullified regions under siege
and still they fight,
don't they know that we're all dying?
Lora Lee Mar 2
just when the dust
settles round my lust
and the thud
of despair hits bottom
just as I flail
and swim in this
         soulless earth
soup of the lost
abyss of unbirth  
you plunge my wilderness
charred with remains
from hellfire
and we breathe
our bones lighted sticks,
colors rising in
angel arcs

Your rib cage
is open
for my tremulous offering
as my lips imprint
a crimson O
upon the earthquake
of your chest
I am still down with the
wrist **** sopped
                    by soil
arteries, bashed
split to the root
by verbal hurts
in a sliding psyche of oil

yet here you are
suturing wounds
with whiplash kisses
saltlick moans in my throat
You wrap me in gauze
through the imprint of your eyes
turn my cuts
into fresh brook
gaze upon my
deepest darkness
like goddess worship shrine

my **** is a funnel
for your whipped light
sacrifice ****** prayer
skinned to the core
all layers exposed
your lips slick
with the drip
of my bliss,
deep juice of
jungle hum
all is bared
we stop at nothing
paint our tongues
with tears
adorn the face of death
with ripe guava
and, as you scream
my name into
a blown glass whisper
my soft fruit
falls into
the heat of
          your palm

in distance
Nico Julleza Jul 2017
A little bit of summer
a little bit of breeze
in the days of warmer
love has so much-
to bring, come let us sing

A little bit of freesia
a little bit of lilac
never can resist a scent
-of Ms. Narine
Ogles, a morning scene

A little bit of sunshine
a little bit of eventide
caress upon the shores
-of such imagery,
passions of immortality

A little bit of cosmos
a little bit of crocus
in a glebe-like galaxy
stars white as daphne
from a garden of syzygy

A little bit of cerulean
a little bit of vermilion
shimmers the lucid lake
with trout's and doves
Golly! autumn is awake

A little bit of plowing
a little bit of sow
the hard workers of
-those pumpkins
reaps a stewful of zin

A little bit of snow
a little bit of flail
fly away as butterflies
hibernate as snails
Forging! a winters gale

A little bit of details
a little bit of trail
from dew drops of-
a frozen rose, icicles on
a drowsy bear’s nose

A little bit of sleeping
a little bit of wait
till the sun comes up  
gray clouds strew away
spring is here to stay

A little bit of sprout
a little bit of grow
And can it be, on thee
an Epiphany shows
the Lords glorious prose
#sing #flowers #seasons #nature #God #colors

Thank-you soo much for all the great poet who red, liked, and commented on this poem.

Don't you just sigh when Seasons Sing...?

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
With emotions
Protruding like spikes
On the ball of a flail

Her presence
Consumes the room

Even her voice sounds
Rough, pitted by
Adrenaline surging
Through her veins

Her mood
Is more than stern
As if bitterness
Rests around
Her heart
And all calm
Is hidden somewhere
Within her shadow
* Merriam-Webster word for the day, May 28, 2019
patty m Nov 2014
Outside my garden wall, traffic swishes, yet in this place of rock and sand, cool moss and good earth, I lose myself in reflection.

secret shadow land
my deeper self plants firmly
spreading family roots

bird feeder robbers
springing from the sweet gum tree
three playful squirrels

even in chill air
splashing sounds twitter loudly
when birds come to bathe

Precious relics are buried here. Baby teeth collected by the tooth fairy, a tiny lock of baby's hair symbolic of her first haircut.
Crystals, quartz,  a single silver button, and spider webs gossamer as silk

lines drawn in the sand
speak a language all their own
whispering softly.

Autumn days warm as butter quickly change to chilly nights.  
While I, a contented cat enjoy a cornucopia of earthy colors and pungent scents; Chrysanthemums, lilies and wheat, surrounded by harvest candles, their flickering teases shadow as it dances across the wall.
Mums and marigolds
help to brighten hearth and heart
mini-suns glowing

Happiness is abandoned nests, the fledglings gone having found their wings.  For now I'll claim them and set them among the stone elves and tiny pumpkins.

One perfect blue egg
alone in deserted nest
dreaming it can fly

Wind's echoing rasp meets soft night's descent sending eveyone closer to the fire.  It's too early for snow, but the scent is in the air.  A polar vortex is what they're calling this fast exchange from fall to winter chill.  

outside the windows
tree monsters flail their limbs
lashing and thrashing

Little eyes are getting sleepy.  Time for prayers and a bedtime story, then kisses as she's tucked warmly into bed.

as today concludes
I sit alone with my thoughts
sipping strong black tea

unconscious bounty
poem seedlings blossoming
grace a tired mind

sleep and renewal
met with a dusting of snow
on the evergreens.

Even as I clear away snow from the sidewalks, the birds gather hoping for my gift of peanuts and bread. .  
Feathered friends you know when I open the door, all gathering to sing your morning songs from the eves and bushes.  
Your joyousness is contagious and I too hum a song enjoying the crisp feel of the cold. .

Glorious new day
the rapture of whiteness sings
hymns of renewal
Tiny footprints trail
disappearing in bushes
softly fluttering
Haibun is a form that includes diary entries and haiku to further enhance the moment.  This is a repost but I've amended certain segments and added more haiku.  To all who read me, I say thank you for your comments and thoughts.  I hope you enjoy my small snapshots of time and vision.  
big hugs
Drowning in waters of storm
I flail desperately to keep my head
above the glimmering
Invisible to the ones I need the most
my plea for help leaves my lips unheard
And so I drown with no company save my
I want to get drunk on the stars
to have their luminescent light fill my being
and fill in the cracks left by my
So I swallow shards of glass
in a futile attempt to end the pain
I close my eyes and let them shred who  I am
who I used to be.
But when the stained slivers fill my gut
all I feel is cold numbness
All I hear are their words so carefully cruel
slashing into me like
So I curl up in a ball on the bottom of the lake
and let myself drown
Into darkness
Into oblivion.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
Sometimes what we think might save us from ourselves, only harms us further.
Nico Julleza Nov 2017
On this very hour— in four corners
Upside feelings, the doubt of those at by
Some shackled your ability to sight
Some did they have to do but you fight

With blind uncertainty, an innocent child
Either your true— nor unright
No one dares for all of you might just air,
Breathing in, then vacate for no one cares

The snow and gail might over flail
With mocking questions from quo's
You are forced to be reckoned with— But
Only your heart answers where you can go

You might be an oblivion wondering
Or someone hated who you really are
But to only hover the truth
Wake up! They're just unwanted scar's

With all the wrongs you bestowed
With all the steps— you skipped a row
Dear self-remember this,
Everything triumphs, that you must know

Heavenward, Face above, you’re a diamond
Your eyes only possess— true as gold
Know you might crumple and even fail
But your dreams are more than all remains
#Heavenward #Faith #Believe

A Good Start to Inspire..

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
avenue sounds are never agreeable, ignore the drift,
ignore the hum,
ignore the suburban neophytes in the city lights (I never did care much for hipsters).
ignore rapid eye movements, the flush red face, ignore the snapshots of you that adorn my semi-sleep state

I stare at my ceiling and see the cobblestone summer streets you once graced, long ago in the eternal occident, I want to ignore but I’m so very boozed, in a blue lucid slumber:::

eyes closed::: my head spins and sleep begins with the tidal delirium of dopamine drips, your legs, your hips, I’m drowning a bit, doused in a sanguine sweat inside a fantasy (**** I’m dreaming of you)

Synaptic friction
she is a pleasant fiction  
flash/sparks segue a dormant memory ,
the two of us riding familiar highways::: she gazes at me with her usual emerald encased ocular torment, those limbal rings cast aspersions at the last vestiges of my will power, until, I’m done, done in by the divinity of her lips:::

There is no end to (your) energy
It even finds me here::: in my dystopian  dream (eternal)
an inescapable, myopic curse
the nightmare of not having you near

Awake, I roll over to clutch for the pacifier of your comfort (violent midnight)
I find only a fragrance,
i flail, searching, when those flashbacks fall short
isolated into the banality of bedsheets and pillows pleats

(the retrograde nature of my reality, now readily apparent)

bellow my window ****** drunks seem to taunt me with feigned intellect and a bullshiter’s banter, a nest of vipers in the heat of the dialectic, serenading one night stands  (**i guess this is what passes for love**)
Amanda Jul 2018
Heavy-chested, I try to release emotions,
The moon shakes its head in dismay,
Seasons unwinding, heartache in slow-motion,
And in weather hides words I can't say.

In the thick sincere compliments
Concerns flail, attempt to get out,
Bang on barriers, will not budge,
'Life consumed, hopeless doubt.

Mind enveloped in fear,
Shackled by trusting nature,
Wings clipped, self-made prisoner,
I wonder if you sense restraints stir.

Certain only one choice allowed,
A crowd of disapproving eyes stare,
Maybe stars can take me far from this place,
They twinkle, dreams in night air.

Want to shine with a similar light,
**** areas stand in protest,
Hold back the glow, I seem dimmer,
Searching for a spot to rest.

Weakness planted in crevices,
Rosebushes bearing thorns blooming,
Learning to love myself even when no one else does,
I'm hard to be with, I am only human.
Love me when i least deserve it, because thats when i need it the most.
Stíofáinín Nov 2017
Give enough to keep the faith
Love only enough so you remember to hate, the dreamless sleep when your hand found mine
Two broken bodies burning through time;
In a shapless flail of virtue
A breath of innocents still lingers in the air
Nothingness inhabits this empty chest
The place where your heart used to rest
Annelise Camille Jul 2017
I feel as if my head is sliding off my neck like ice cream melting down the cone. I am a witch melting, shrinking smaller as my spine stacks horizontally like shiplap. My body has been refurbished into a pinball machine. Something so tiny as a silver ball destroys so much. It bullets through my body, shooting off like Cuban missiles. I feel the turmoil and chaos seeping through the gutters of this old home of bones. It's like spilled oil sludging through my blood vessels or rats scattering through a sewer, nibbling and feasting away on these muscles of mine until they are frayed like gnawed-on cable wires. At odd hours of the night when time is propelled by the safe travels of breath (that weave in and out like Victorians at a ball) from sleepy children who have yet been touched by monsters or nymphs, whereas each of my breaths steer Odysseus's weather-beaten boat through ten years of treachery. My heavy, melting head slowly sloping like clay off a bust makes its home on my dingy pillow as I lay on a prison bed with cold shackles around my ankles that make my bones shatter into a mosaic as if that could shrink my ankles so I can slip out. I feel like a chained hawk at these hours of the night when I just want to fly until I screech to a halt and flail over the cliff that waterfalls into the ends of the universe. I'd be reluctant at first, perhaps, but what other escape does one have other than to make an autopsist's Y-incision on one's body, then slip out like a hermit crab freeing himself from his heavy shell? Embarking onto a new dimension where there's hope for a radical swap of atoms that don't shape a crippled, deteriorating human is the only choice when you want to live a life other than what you were cursed with. May we then find peace and live as naked souls bearing no heavy shells.
The Tinkerer Jun 13
I feel this deep fear in me,
Something I can't truly see.
Within me, it dwells. I truly believe.
Looking into the depths of the well,
A living hell, I see staring back at me.
That darkness is all I feel.

Nobody else, no one with me,
Fear claws its way from down deep,
Digs right into me.

I feel it, I wail,
I flow, I begin to well
I flail, I scream. So silent,
Nobody else can see.
Within me, I weep.

Keeping it hidden, happiness is forbidden.
Never am I forgiven.
The promised land, my vision.
A forever expedition.

To find what I seek,
To love, to believe.
To find a connection,
To find that remission,
Finally to be given.

I go it alone, I work through my woes.
The battle's done won,
The war leaves one ruined.

Make peace with the fact,
There is no connect,
Always be alone,
You are doomed, forlorn.

Live with it and die.
You are on the decline.

Know, you are yours,
Bonded with none.

Alone is your soul.
Weary, your mind.
Loneliness if my biggest fear. A connection is what I seek. With all, and with one.
Without it, I'll always find it hard to sleep.
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
One dark day, a Troll in black
With snow-white hair and a hunch-back
Appeared before the public eye
Beneath a grey and pale sky

To tell them of their nation's fate;
Her goblin thralls would wipe the slate
And doom the kids of Fairyland
At all the other folks' demand!

Many of them, nodding, replied,
"Okay then, that's fair, we tried -
But oh, Miss Troll, answer us this,
To mention not would be remiss:"

"Many of the older folks
Who helped your cause with all their votes
Aren't (it troubles us to say)
Around to vote again today."

"So when you claim that Fairyland
United with your goblins stand,
Forgive us, but we're not so sure:
Your current plan seems so obscure."

"Thus, we ask you, Troll in black,
With your white hair and your hunch-back,
Could you give us one more try
To prove we want to say goodbye?"

To this, the Troll turned deathly pale,
Her legs did shake, her arms did flail,
And so she coughed from her black lungs,
"No, no, dears! You're far too young!"

So now, Fairyland sits and waits
For their fast-approaching fate
And old Miss Troll and all her crew
Can have their cake, and eat it too.
The price of my country's currency is plummeting, and I'm worried about my future.
Agree or disagree, the discussion of these topics is what makes them so important.
Mark Rohlf Jan 15
the choppers blades
the cleansing of color

twist in the wind
like the means of unfit mothers
of unfounded snare

who's revolution
of her weighted intent
should be held to account
when justness is spent

the judges, juries
and executioners trail
hovering the bluster
as appellants flail


the choppers blades
the cleansing of color....
John Shahul Sep 2018
I beseeched and reached out to my crush
She looked away and wondered with a blush
Every time I looked at her in the eyes
With anticipation our heart sighs
She flashed her eyebrows with a smile
As my hands and feet are free to flail
It happened every time for a while
I did the same after a while
To chime in with the beautiful woman of my dream.
I perfected the time
To ask her out for a date,

I wrote:  I would like to get in touch with you
My Crush:  What is that you need to touch base about?

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
No where and in no place where men cannot pursue
Where we lovers tryst in no regret.
Side by side we walk as our feelings can subdue,
Set aside our differences with no further due,
Soon we realize as we embrace
Tense in silence
Falling in love with each other, with no trace
Of disappointments our heart can surrender.
Love sustains in secret endeavor
And unfolds itself like an opening flower.
Love abounds in mysterious ways
And speaks to one who loves truly as always
Where no one know us falling in love in the lovers tryst.

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
Truthful to the heart unto the grave
Where we lovers tryst so brave
Had we dwelt
Restraining times tiding flow
On the Glaciers far below,
Unto make it to the mist of mountains?
Hidden behind the curtains
Of avalanche and snow,
From the deep sea to the blue summit,
With deep feelings of love and joy consummate,
As love sparkles through each other’s eyes nice and bold
Make up our mind with one secret kiss soft and sweet.
We look forward to the entire new world to behold
Where no one know us in the lovers tryst.

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
As our love has come along
Where we love and stay in love together lifelong
To love all day long
To love all our fair youth together can belong.
Like fragrance to the flower
Mixed with breeze and prevails everywhere
Where we live to our dreams and desires
Where no one know us together in the lovers tryst.

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
Where no one know us where we see each other
Making diamond dew drops into a mirror
Where we mirror each other
Where our visages seen together
Where our images seen so closer
As one image with no dimensions
Other than our own true reflections
Of making out our true love and kisses,
Laughing out louder
In true sense of humor,
With a tell tale of true love blisses
On each one of our fulfilling wishes
Our luscious smile blushes
Where no one know us see each other in the lovers tryst.

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
Moaning in our craving torments
Making our days into nights
And nights into unforgettable moments
Love is in the air
Whispers into the ears
Shunning the noises of delights
Far from the crowd where can we run off of no fears?
Crossing the seven seas and the infinite ocean
Where rivers ran deep down
Into arms of bay into vast eternity of silence
Where love cannot dissipate into rest at a glance
Where no one hear us moaning in the lovers tryst.

Where we lovers shall the world forget?
With the memory of our silent moments
Like a sail boat about a quarter mile out
With such opulent power my thoughts in her dwelt,
In the transparent dream travelled,
Lived aloof and rounded the skied gleams
Watching the galaxy revolving round,
In time’s eternity where lover dreams
And manifests true love all around.
Like a crescent moon beams
All over with the endless ocean;
Slouched to my touch, she topples down
Into my arms
As breathless as in her dreams.
As motionless as we are
We stare each other
One over the other as the wave rolls,
Rolls in and rolls out to the shore
And moves through the swells
Where no one know us in the lovers tryst
Where we lovers shall the world forget.
Neurons travel and wind
around your head like
draping tree branches, Christmas lights,
strings of tangled red yarn
weaving a possible

When the cords are
simply content with
remaining relatively still,
being with you
is like
sailing on smooth,
tranquil, clear blue waters
of a vast, magnificent
a blossomed sunset
in the distance
dripping on white, sandy shores
of an island of lost paradise
awaiting our arrival.

But when the cords
flail and twist, tying each other
into knots and cutting off
the clearness
and levelheadedness of thought,
being with you
is like
trying to hang on to
the back of a typhoon,
frigid black waters flailing,
crashing against
foamy, thick quicksand,
roars and curses of a
tyrant sea god
raging seas of water against
the skies,
rapidly expelling
hurtful, sharp anchors and lunging
them to the bottom
of our sandy beds.

And I wonder
what it would be like had I
possessed more
powerful features
as your sea goddess,
as the moon and stars
from above,
and the sandy beds
below that would
catch both
hurtful anchors and
salty tears
you let loose.

When loved ones around you are content, sometimes it feels like what you have then is enough.
Then sometimes when they abrupt with anger, sometimes you feel hopeless as to what plays out as a result.
My heart is a bassoon
once I've tackled it
to the ground, oboe
in my good hand
As a battering ram
A morning star
A mace
A flail

Nary more a tune

My heart is a bassoon!
got it now? It waits
to fill up every room

"Water always finds
It's own level" or so they
say and if my heart were
full of water I wouldn't
have a clue what they
mean by that anyway

My heart is a *******
bassoon and if I were to
put it in the bath it would
ruin it
Another year has passed again
survival met with wishes pressed
in the sea of life’s span
present there to rise again
the currents wishing so much less
than existence bless to thrive

it’s not a given for these souls
to stay afloat among the waves
dark temptations aren't revealed
in the streams few may see
pulling victims into depths
with the hopes first to go

as the oxygen is removed
it’s just as likely a corpse will rise
break the surface to the surprise
of the crowd that gathers round
happy birthday becomes the prize
another year then survived

with intent to carry on
even while the odds seem stacked
congratulate the lucky one
as they plunge into the tidal crush
to flail about above the drag
waiting to cut the silver thread.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190620.
The poem “Survival Met” is about the nature of birthdays for the individual with ongoing ideation.
Arslaan Javid Dec 2018
The girl was the heaven's dream,
poise and she had a gleam,
she had everyone's attention,
her soul was an ever flowing stream...
They gave her soul to redeem,
certain of her fate,
They sold away her beauty, for luxury, limelight and her name...

The boy had a way with words he said,
He moved with grace yet chastity,
Then stormed away, a gesture out of place,
Said he'd be back any day,
He didn't hesitate, he said they saw,
With open eyes and were left in utter dismay...

The thing was that the girl and boy,
had met somewhere, they had a flair,
to understand each other's plight,
they won't give in without a fight...
To each other, they gave away,
whatever they hesitated to say...
Oh! It would leave the world in utter dismay...

The war began, they moved with flail,
a battle for souls, not for a share,
they lost the war against the world,
he was locked, she was kept away...
They didn't hesitate, to the whole world,
they gave away, what they really were...
Oh! It just left the world in disgust and dismay...

Their souls were painted like the wings,
of butterflies, yet all would think,
they're evil; they don't deserve to live,
and did them with a slash and ****...
They didn't hesitate, to stay right there,
the angel of death, upon them glared...
Oh! It painted both of their skies all grey...

The people thought they'd burn in hell,
stocked them in a corpse's shell,
they shut the coffin, dug the nails,
in their lover's eyes, they'd always dwell...
They didn't hesitate, to let their souls away,
to a liberal town, and tell their tale...
Oh! Would that leave the town, in utter dismay...?

They found a castle, far in flight,
quickened their pace, it neared in sight,
there they met a king in checks,
confessed they liked the same ***...
They didn't hesitate, despite their fate,
poor valorous souls, we lost to hate...
Oh! Did it leave the king, in utter dismay...?

The king looked deep inside their eyes,
their burning ache; he realized,
then made reforms and legalized,
melting all the hearts of ice...
He didn't hesitate, to end the hate,
among his subjects, for true love's sake...
Oh! It didn't leave the world, in utter dismay...

Feelings of hatred all minimized,
all thirsty souls; they reconciled,
these sacrifices proved the right,
in heaven, they spent afterlife,
stood by love, and won the fight...
Oh! The change God saw on his world,
us children of His got the joyful array...
This piece of poetry ventures towards bringing about change in the stereotypes held by mankind against the LGBT community since forever
Dominique Jan 26
You are as frail as summer rain
That shines across the windowpane
At night when moonlight cracks the screens
Of safely organised routines

You walk across this tight rope bare;
Your bleeding feet flail in the air
And when it's time for you to fall
The thunder crackling says it all

I've seen you hanging from the sill
Conducting sonnets in the still
Equipped with broken pens and such
And silhouettes that don't mean much

But if by chance you do perfect
The heinous thoughts your words reflect
They'll spy you swinging from the rain;

A bleeding, screaming hurricane.
Humanity is a mess, but it is also an art form. Look after each other.
Assley Dec 2018
i drown myself in shallow streams my known noncompliance in the only reason i scream

i hang myself from 4ft high i only flail because i know i won't die

i cut only a half inch deep i only cry because i know my life i'll keep

i throw myself off a 10ft post and i do it again and again because i know that broken bones will be the most

In the face of death my body pleads but my mind it screams because it knows death is the one thing i need
Aidan A Sep 2018
I miss you, I really do
And I don't think there's anything else
I'd rather be doing
Than trying again, timidly pursuing
The thought you
To which my core melts -
It licks at and singes each layer
The ones at least atop that I'd lay her

Why can't we try anymore -
I still want to be the cause
The glisten in your eyes emerge
Not from source of hurtful words
When we first met
It was eclipse at twilight
An unknown lit so bright
Compared to the flicker of ash
A graceful flail between the breeze
That you and I had failed to sweep
Under the rug, at least that was clean
Our fights and insecurities were always
Out in the open
We knew each other well
Not just from loving each other
We gave each other hell

I'm sorry for hurting you - I'm hurt too
Not all of it was cause of what you'd do
I don't want some other person, she wouldn't compare
Not to the beguiling nature of your stare
I do still love you, I really do
But I know that when I love,
I tend to hurt you too

That isn't love, I'm not a lover
I'm just a shell of a man I once thought I could be
I'm sorry ***, I should've known better
than to bring you into the pain of dealing with me
Dealing with myself

No matter what we are now, even if we re nothing
I will always remember fondly, I'll always be thankful
That you loved me through the thick of things
Through the **** that I would bring
Up, though it was fine where it had been
I know I didn't show you what love could be,
I taught you what it shouldn't be.
I started out genuine I swear and I thought
That yours would not be the burden to bear
I'm sorry.

If this is goodbye then this is me waving
In your rear view mirror.
I'm sorry, sweetheart, I should've loved you better
I should've been better

I hope you're doing better
i'll miss you
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