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Philip V Jul 2018
She handed me a red dice.

If you're gonna run
She said,
You better run from
yourself.

You'll chase bliss,
Win your life,
Strangle fear
And conquer
heights.

But don't roll the dice
For just anything
quite.

When you're out of profit
An empty wallet
Ready to make a promise,
You'll find it
in your deepest pocket.

It will let you start anew
Like a star in a barren sky
You'll fly again
Perhaps even soon.

Just remember that
By the millions of odds
You got here in time
To be yourself.

No more
No less.

And so you
Do what you must
But you better do it right
There aren't too many dice throws,
Given here in life.

And so
I rolled.
Dark Fjord Nov 2016
recruit/join, dear john, pulling us into, the one,
to take my spit, pulled me up, to do pull-ups
plopped me into the field's rain
severed from common man, ran
summed up in His calls to wild  
throws up pages into fire, trips
as the old rub, did to it, once, bounce.

therein, it lies, a rose-barb'sharp arm
     who captures the iron;
tickles or can be called to trickles.

~Where such numbers cannot try the cause let
My thoughts be ******, or be nothing worth!~WS
on the go
JR Weiss Oct 2017
i can't.

i want to say that i won't
but it wouldn't be true.

if i, instead, say i can't,
i can easily conjure up a choir of whys.

can't pull at you.
can't bust things up.
can't promise greener grass.
can't promise to stay or
that you won't regret
decisions made.

i want to.
so badly.
but i know with you
i am wont to want
so, i'll stay with can't.

i'll turn cold,
i'll steele, and i'll
remember the multitude of whys.

hurry home sad blue eyes;
before a storm brought on by
why not
whips you free and throws us
both
into unpredictable winds.
You are not the you you think you are
Huddled close behind the scars
Out and in and out again
Still mist and fog filled frailty thin

We are not the ones we claim to be
All boasted brash and broken free
Caged, released and caged again
Our chains have traded rust for skin

It's not the place it was before
Hope and hallowed winter worn
Back and forth and back again
It cannot be it's never been

I'm not the me my words portray
Subtle perched in sainted shame
Lost and found and lost again
Make believe still not pretend

Allow me to untangle
The truth and the fable
Only the one fully himself,
Who fully "is" can fully help
This state that finds
Us undermined
So in the throws
We hide our eyes
So out of sorts
Our thoughts unwind
And fill our minds
With wastes of time

But lost and found
Abstractly bound
Can come to mean
What's seen unseen
In place of finding
release the chase
Tune the rule
The walking race
I'm not the me
I'm something else
I know the one
who knows himself
Alyssa Underwood Sep 2017
There is little in this world that consistently causes our hearts more pain or which produces in us more need for forgiveness than rejection, especially from those whom it has cost us so much to love. It is universal anathema to the soul, and much of our lives can be unconsciously governed by the fear of it. So we find ourselves naturally asking, "Joy in the midst of rejection? Is that even possible?" Oh, yes! Not only possible but commanded of us who are believers in Christ. And not only commanded of us but ready to be gloriously bestowed on us like the most precious of pearls.

It's in the season of greatest rejection that we enter the season of greatest opportunity to discover the fullness of God's joy by discovering the fullness of His own heart. Walking in intimacy with Jesus through this searing pain may be one of the most priceless privileges of grace granted to us on this earth, for it opens up one of the widest doors for us to enter into the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, and there is no more obvious chance to die to ourselves and live for Christ than in that holy communion of suffering with Him.

It's there that we're most able to clearly see Him and best prepared to clearly reflect Him, and it's then that we're empowered to live our lives here on earth from the very throne room of heaven, seated in the resurrected presence of our Bridegroom, where the joy always runs full and over. So our deepest heartaches will turn to deepest joys when we embrace them for the sake of Christ, to gain Him and be found in Him, to know Him in intimate detail through excruciatingly sweet experience. We will discover that the Lord entrusts the most luscious of blessings and the rarest of secrets to the most desperate and thirsty of souls, and that He delights to place the loveliest of wings on the lowliest of worms.

The gifts of myrrh's sorrow which the Father pours into the vessels of our lives are poured first into the hands of His own Son and flow through His nail-pierced scars before they ever touch us. And as we choose to graciously receive them as such, we are filled up with Him and enabled to pour Him out into the lives of others, even those who continually scorn and despise us.

The gift (yes, gift) of rejection is the high privilege of being asked by our Commander to become His flag bearer, receiving the esteemed honor of marching beside Him at the center of the front line, into the heat of the battle and into the face of the "enemy" (the rejecter), armed with no gun and carrying only His banner of love over our head for all to see. It's a sacred invitation into a certain death for the sake of knowing His love more intimately and for the service of displaying it more gloriously.

And if tempted to refuse the privilege, let us remember these two things: this life is so much more freely, joyfully lived when we have finally learned to count ourselves dead to it and alive to Christ, and the flow of His agape love through us will only be as strong as what it costs us to demonstrate it. The greater the cost, the purer the love; the purer the love, the more we are made like Him; the more we are made like Him, the more attuned we will be to His own heart's breaking and to our own breaking of it.

Oh, that we might be purged of ever thinking again that our neglecting of His love does not matter to Him! May He cause our hearts to break and break until we see how much it does! May we know the world's rejection again and again until we are finally scoured clean of our own despicable tendency to reject Him in favor of all our worldly playthings! No lover has ever endured more rejection than our Lover at our own hands and by our own hearts. And no lover continues to love through rejection with the determination and desire, suffering and sacrifice, tenderness and tenacity of our own Bridegroom. Can we not endure whatever He has called us to suffer for Him? Can we not allow it to drive us more fervently to His heart?... Lord, capture us by Your mighty hand and consume us by Your mighty flame, and may we pant and pine only for You, for Your love sets us free to dance in the midst of the fire!

How humbling, mystifying and worship-evoking it is to realize that the One we have so grievously rejected is the same One Who so perfectly understands and longs to comfort our own heart's grief when we are rejected. And to not run to Him now for that fellowship of healing would be to reject Him all over again and to break His heart once more. What could hurt Him more than our stubborn resistance to share in both His sufferings and His comfort when there is so much joy and intimacy waiting to be had with Him? Whatever ache our own heart knows, however deep and scathing, it cannot compare to the ache of His own heart when we let anything pull us away from Him, for He is rightly EVERYTHING to us—Father, Husband, Lover, Best Friend, Brother, Confidante, Kindred Spirit, Counselor, Nurturer, Rescuer, Healer, Hero... Behind the pain of every rejection is a legitimate need or desire that He is waiting to fill in us, and we have to let Him get to it by dying to our fleshly ones.

Or do we suppose that we might ever find true and lasting joy apart from dying to ourselves and abiding in Him when He died so that we might fully live in the joy of that abiding? No, true joy will only follow abiding; abiding and dying walk hand in hand, and rejection throws open the door for all three. Man's rejection is central to God's wooing, for it shatters our false expectations of human love and stirs in our hearts the longing for a perfect one. So let us not shrink back fearfully from that which can do us such good and teach us to love as Christ has loved us. With renewed passion, let us ask Him to wrap every affection of our hearts more tightly around Him that every desire might be united with His own and that we might learn to love in a way that sets our lives and the world around us ablaze!

To be despised and rejected and, still, to love—that is the ultimate triumph of Christ in our hearts, for we are never more like Him, never more full of Him, never more surrendered to His heart and His work than when He pours out His love through us to those who will not love us back. When we can stand in the face of bitter, cutting words, contemptuous looks and shaming mockery and still love fiercely but with a gentle and quiet spirit, we will know without doubt that it is His Spirit moving gloriously through us... Lord Jesus, Who so willingly floods our hearts with Your most precious gift, Yourself (and You are Love!), teach us to ever know You more and to rely fully on the love You have for us and ARE for us in infinite supply. Teach us to feast on the abundance of that love, and let it flow freely out of us to the ones who would reject, scorn, mock and hate us, so that they too might one day taste and be consumed by Your perfect love which drives out all fear—Your infinite, immeasurable love which heals all wounds and fills all emptiness and gives meaning to all of our pain. You alone, O LORD, are able to truly and purely love through rejection, but You live gloriously in us, so unleash Your mighty waters through us. Your love is everything, for You are Everything!...

Our all-sufficient Bridegroom is able to work His agape love most perfectly in us when that love poured out to another is not ever reciprocated, for it forces us to finally let Him fill us with Himself alone and to rely completely on His love instead of on the love of another to meet our heart's deepest hunger. The need for His filling IS our deepest hunger, and so our soul comes most alive not when it is loved by our fellow man but when it receives and pours out Jesus' love to our fellow man, expecting nothing in return but more of Him. Thus His love is made complete in us whether they ever love us back or not, and the fear of their rejection is eventually driven out by His perfect and perfecting love.

Even if love is never returned...never even received...it is never in vain, for "love never fails." To love someone, though we mean nothing to them, may seem too cruel a burden for the heart to bear, but the only thing worse than not being loved is to not love, and so the greatest tragedy of love spurned or lost would be to stop loving. For to cease loving that which causes us pain would be to let the pain win, but for as long as we love, really love with Christ's own heart, no matter what else happens, we win.

Love without pain remains unproven and, therefore, is meaningless, but love through pain invokes nothing less than the miraculous and inspires even the incredulous. The purer one's love, the more pain it causes when it is rejected, but only continued love can redeem the pain of loving, and only a perfect Love can heal love's scalding wound; the more scalding the wound, the better primed it is to receive that perfect Love fully into it.

There is great romance to be found in unrequited love that keeps loving, though it is beyond any human emotion or fleshly capacity or mortal understanding. It is a most sacred mystery which cannot be grasped with the head or even the heart but only with the spirit, for it is a love whose connection to Christ remains unsevered. There is perhaps no intimacy to compare to it, for it drives us to Him like nothing else will. It is a love whose longing for the other gives us the greatest insight into God's own aching longing for us. Only when it has cost us everything to keep loving do we begin to understand the smallest fraction of the wildly extravagant love Christ has for us or of the brutally scandalous pain which it has cost Him, and it will leave us in utter awe of Him and in love with Him like we have never been before.

As our focus is turned more and more toward His love for us and toward all of our previous rejecting of it, we will come to clearly see that agape love and rejection have everything to do with the the hearts of the lover and the rejecter and nothing to do with what the beloved and the rejected have done or deserve. For obviously we have done nothing to deserve God's love and He has nothing to deserve our rejection, yet He never stops loving us and we keep rejecting Him in ways we can't even comprehend. No one has ever known more rejection than the only One Who is completely worthy of love. Every time we sin we reject Him in favor of something else, but still He loves us without fail and without end. He loves us because He is love and because He has chosen to set His love on us. We are absolutely and irrevocably loved and accepted in Christ Jesus, and nothing and no one can ever change or mar that love. Our identity is completely secure in Him simply because of Who He is and who He says we are to Him.

Therefore no amount nor depth of rejection by anyone changes anything about who we are in Christ or our worth to Him. We do not need any man's love or acceptance to validate our worth, for it has already been established in the heavenly realms by the only One Whose verdict carries any real and lasting weight. We are significant and precious and holy to God regardless of what anyone else thinks of us or says of us or does to us. What has their rejection got to do with us? Nothing, for we are His! We are chosen and we are beloved! And so we are freed from the fear of rejection when we see that it cannot define us or taint us in the sight of the only One Whose opinion or judgment matters. It's a glorious thing to finally care what no man thinks of us, only the Master, for then we begin to be free to love all men as He loves them and to pray with deepest sincerity, humility and fervor even for those who spitefully reject us.

And even for that one who has hurt us most deeply, who has crushed our heart and thrown us to the wind like chaff without so much as a glance back, we will pray, no longer with only a slight and distant hope that he would return to us but now with a passionate desire to see the prodigal return to the heart of the Father. We will pray, not with a focus on life with him but with a focus on life for him. We will pray for a total and glorious restoration of his life to Christ, even if we will never be there beside him to share in the fellowship and joy of his homecoming, even if we will never get to experience up close in this life the thrill of seeing the Lord make something beautiful yet of his ashes. And this may be the hardest and truest test of our love for him—this painful sacrifice of desiring his absolute best apart from us. It is a wrenching blow to our pride and to our will (not to mention our codependence), for we had so longed to play the Muse and to awaken that beauty in him. So we know we could never yearn or pray for this out of our own strength or wisdom; it is simply too painful to our flesh. We must be led into it and through every delicate step of it by our loving Redeemer, our Bridegroom, as if He were leading us out under a canopy of the starry host and into the most intricate and intimate of moonlit dances. And so we begin to pray and to dance...

But even wrapped in Jesus' arms we are clumsy, stumbling miserably over our own feet. The music is perplexingly unfamiliar and the steps wildly unpredictable, and our toes feel terribly pinched in these new shoes. Maybe this dance is just too hard for us. Maybe we are not yet ready. Maybe we should sit it out for now and try again later when our shoes are a little more broken in or when our heart is a little less broken apart. So we pull away...

But He tenderly beckons us back: Dear and beloved bride, broken-but-beautiful one whom I have made My own, do not push Me away now, not after I have brought you so far. I have many more secrets to share with you and so much more to show you of Myself. But you are not letting Me lead this dance, beloved. Why are you so rigid in My embrace? Why so worried over the next steps? Let go of everything and abandon yourself to My love. Enjoy Me...Follow Me...Lean into Me...Keep watching My face...Let Me move you however I desire us to go...Trust Me...Love Me. Shall we dance, then?

Yes, we shall and we do! As He draws us into Himself, into the prayer of His heart and the dance of His Spirit, and as we give ourself over completely to the impulse of His leading, the details of our words and the precision of our steps give way to the desire and passion of His will, and the pulsating of our heart swirls to the rhythm of His own. The further He pulls us into union with Himself, the more we find ourselves desiring this same intimacy-with-Him for the very one who has so badly hurt us, for we see how badly he himself is hurting without it. We realize now that his running away from us and toward another is just as much a reflection of his insatiable yet misunderstood craving for God as was all of our running toward our own idols (including him). Our soul aches for his redemption and his healing and for his lost sheep's heart to be brought out of darkness and into the marvelous light that shines from Jesus' face, that he might truly know the pleasure of knowing the One Whose pleasure he was created for.

Somehow, through this heightened and mysterious intimacy of prayer for him, we are now discovering a strange and new kind of intimacy with this very one whose intimacy had so often given us the slip, this one whom we had so long loved and lived with but failed to uncover at all, and the fresh wind of it drives us even deeper into the ache of God's own heart for him and for us. It is at the center of that ache that we are finally able to let go of the hurt and the man and leave the matter entirely in God's hands, understanding that the Shepherd's aching heart knows fully all whom He has chosen and will never stop dealing with or seeking after any of His own sheep. And so...


                        We release to Him with a heart of trust
                        This one whom we love and always must
                        We can let go the man and rest because
                        It's out of our hands and always was



But the dance, like the feast, goes on and on, and the more we dance and the more we feast, the more we heal. Our Bridegroom wounds us by His own providence but washes our wounds with His faithfulness and binds them up with His love. The wounds and their healing make us beautiful to Him. They teach us to know Him, to hunger for Him, to enjoy Him and to please Him. And they get us perfectly ready for that most glorious of dances and that most joyous of feasts which are still to come but, perhaps, much closer than we might dare to imagine. It is time to awaken, dear bride of Christ, and to break in our dancing shoes!
~~~


"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because He first loved us."
~ 1 John 4:16-19

"And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."
~ Romans 5:2b-5

"As you come to Him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to Him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."
~ 1 Peter 2:4-5

"He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    He was despised, and we held Him in low esteem.
Surely He took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by Him, and afflicted.
But He was pierced for our transgressions,
    He was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on Him,
    and by His wounds we are healed."
~ Isaiah 53:3-5

"But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things... I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death..."
~ Philippians 3:7-8a,10

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
~ 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

"For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ."
~ 2 Corinthians 1:5

"'Blessed are you who hunger now,
    for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
    for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when people hate you,
    when they exclude you and insult you
    and reject your name as evil,
        because of the Son of Man.
Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets...But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you...Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.'"
~ Luke 6:21-23,27-28,36

"Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else. Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."
~ 1 Thessalonians 5:15-18

"You make known to me the path of life;
    You will fill me with joy in Your presence,
    with eternal pleasures at Your right hand."
~ Psalm 16:11

"I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."
~ Ephesians 3:16-21

~~~
Risa Njoroge May 27
Another cold and lonely night,
Seated in the corner of this dark bar under a dim light,
Looking for the kind of love that lasts till first light,
Is it love under a drunken sight?
“From the guy at the bar"
Says the waitress who forgot a part of her dress,
She raises the glass and yet again lowers her bar,
She will have to fall in love with him tonight!

"I'll be right back,” She says  as she tries to get her *** up,  
Staggers away into the old filthy bathroom with a broken latch,
What used to be a mirror is nothing but broken glass,
Shattered in pieces like her broken heart,
The unpaid ***** she has now become,
Another tale of a her now too many one-night stands,
Grasping tightly at the illusion of this drunken love,
Each Night, A different Knight,

He doesn’t even own an old truck,
Or have enough money for the yellow cab,
Yet his working hand she holds
And together they stagger into the dark night,
Last night's knight’s cologne still lingers on,
Like the poison of hate that now runs through her veins,
He throws his jacket over the window pane,
She even lets him touch her now pale face!

The illusion of this temporary love doesn't last,
His wife is about to break through the phone,
This **** slob passed out with one foot on the floor,
Under this morning light, he looks nothing like the shinning knight,
"Time to leave, thanks for the drink!"
He leans forward to give her one last kiss,
Just one double of cheap whiskey,
Not a penny left where he picked his keys,

She will be cold and lonely tonight,
She will be at that bar seated in the corner under the dim light,
Falling in love with you,
And hoping it lasts longer than first light!
#unpaidwhore #pennedvixen #lookingforlove
Alaina Moore Dec 2018
I am so afraid of becoming White Collar Micheal.
He likes to act like his life is so hopelessly blightful, because his name is White Collar Micheal.
On the weekend, he throws on a tie-dye.
Goes from Business Man, to Mr. Nice Guy?
Deep down you know it's a facade, aka,
Your big life's a big lie.  
He does so many uppers you may as well call it the tweekend.
He fills his mind with illusions of grandeur.
I look at him and think "you need to be a man first."
Instead of filling my head with candy and dreams, I face my demons.
And it's utterly delightful because I know I will never become a
White Collar Micheal.
Full disclosure, I didn't write this poem. It was written by my Husband - still working on a pen name.
Kara Jean May 2016
Downfall she claims
Dripping in disease
Her dress ripped
Trees dying
Holes cover the seams
Tattered
Sewage covered
Disgraced
****
Taking her vitality
The mass living upon her soil
Population at a high
Charging her for corruption
Her hair cut
In shambles
Uneven proportioned
Greed is the man in lead
Unfairly held to shame
Her belly rumbles
Earthquakes
Crack her skin
Aching
Oozing her blood
Tsunamis wiping out existence
She violently
Throws tantrums
A twister destroying houses
Seeking attention
Under validated
Unnoticed for exotic jungle humanity
Innocence
Her music lifts
The mountain breeze
Sagebrush rustles
Birds whisper
Squirrels leaping
Her captivating body sings
Weak man made her break
Small art gone
Ice caps melting into the abyss
Taking scraps
Leftover bits
Her soul
Missing
Stipping her clothing
******* her gold
Her shirt selfishly torn
Naked she became
Her animals hungry
Oceans sickened
Our anguish
Is revenge
Knocked out
She's becoming manipulated belief
She's in debt to the population
Mother will reclaim
Her dynasty
We the people will be left
In emptiness
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Most nights I sit outside
Just me and the crickets chirping and of course my wine
A husband gone most of the time, hardworking a love defined
I hear my words echoing as I anticipate writing them slowly  
I don't know how to break it down, this urge growing
The cars drive rumbling, as if my soul is colliding with a semi
I know what should be done but I'm not ready
How can you complain about the deliberate choices you made
We reminisce just to ******* our blinded heart guiding
I want to know where to go
My soul already has the knowledge, I just like fighting
The crickets are confiding as the breeze throws the roses aroma in front of me
Breathing deeply, a defense mechanism when the tears are sliding
A plastic 3 dollar crown will be the closes I come to being a queen, as I hear the muffled soothing music in the background
Now I lay against the pavement to sleep because my bed is just to lonely
Rianna Jul 22
If I were blessed with normalcy,
I would not value the flutter
Of my heart, as it spies
A surprise greeting
A friendly smile.
No palpitations,
Involuntary twitches.
It throws back .
A friendlier smile,
A lively chat.
Without vacant stammers,
Or painful grins,
Joy carefree,
Like a castaway wave,
Casually recedes
Off a glimmering ocean.
And when the encounter repeats itself
I will bear no shame,
Or race away in reluctant haste,
The grand, nail biting retreat,
Unable to speak.


I would barely brace,
As the lunch bell rings,
And smoothen the grin on my dimpled cheek.
Smoother than the slip,
Of a phone into my pocket.
Cause when I zip down the hall
And seek,
strange familiar faces,
For the fun of it,
Desperate typing,
Has no place.
There’s no need to sell pathos
To a pair of kind eyes,
Then lunge in for an awkward sip
Of juicebox compassion.
A daily fix.
Instead I’ll wait
A grand, weighty two minutes
And practise compassion,
Saving places,
In a line too long,
before they come
shoulder slapping, rag-tagging
Idiosyncrasies.
Nonsense and hilarity,
encircles me.

As I catch myself swirling,
I struggle to be freed,
From the dazzling sway,
Of this,
Cruel, cruel daydream.

With a hollow, dry cackle,
I'll concede,
"Oh, If I were blessed with normalcy!"

Won't that be,
Just funny.
Thanks for reading my work. Feedback is always appreciated.
May I write a book about you?
I want to write chapters about how your smile
calms all of the piercing voices in my head
I want to put into words how the feeling of your hand in mine
calms all of the storms that cause chaos within my chest
I want to write you letters
telling you how you are the best thing that ever happened to me
I want to tell you so badly how much I love you
I love you so much but I am afraid to let myself tell you
because my love for you is so overwhelming
I don't think I can handle it
Sometimes I lay in bed and I feel like I am suffocating
under all of the ******* that my depression throws at me
but you are like the sky after a rainy day
You are so handsome
You are so beautiful
It's enough to make me sick because I can't wrap my head
around how someone so perfect can exist in a world like this
I can't accept the fact that you can have anyone you want
yet you chose me
I can still taste our first kiss on my lips
That kiss brought back to life all of the parts of me I thought died
I was a **** you turned into a flower
You made me able to love again
God! What a beautiful gift to be able to love someone so deeply
So I ask again may I write a book about you?
I want to write chapters on how you came into my life
and changed my world in the most magnificent way


To the one I will one day write a book about, I can't wait to meet you. Whoever you are...
WRITTEN BY: Mandie Michelle Sanders
WRITTEN ON: March. 8, 2016 Tuesday 3:03 AM
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