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The  
                               Snow
    Keeps
                    On
Falling,
                    And
        ­  The
                              Wind
   Keeps
                          On
  Howling.

So I think I'll just stay inside.
 Jan 2014 Alysia Michelle
Chris
Your steady fingers have left stains on my heart.
I suppose that’s why they call it an *****,
because you seem to play it so well.
not poetry
 Jan 2014 Alysia Michelle
Chris
Shallow relationships exhaust me.
Unpack the bags under your eyes
and let me stay a little while.
not poetry
your snoring is so loud
it sounds like you are feng shui-ing
the furniture in your head
but i love it
see,
i could list all your bad qualities
& the thousand reasons
why i love them
but instead
i wanna catch your flaws
like fireflies in jars
and hide them on a high shelf
so you never
have to
see
them.
I had spent years in circles,
chasing things that do not exist.
I had dug through the dirt, finding nothing,
and had spent long hours in the rain.

I had dug several pin holes for growing,
but my seeds never did sprout.
I would cross all my fingers, then hold my breath,
but still I spotted no stems.

I had wept when the waiting grew longer.
Alone in the dark, was my least favorite place
and my flowers did not keep me company.

I had spent years holding onto nothing.
False fed hope was the source of my life.
The hope that I might see my flowers,
not the dirt, nor the weeds, nor the strife.

One day the rain had stopped falling,
so I tore all the thorns from my knees.
I hoped that maybe the silence,
might bring some life to my seeds.

By the time I had realized that
years had gone by,
I was lost in my garden and thoughts.

For years I had given all of myself
to those who did not give back.
They took all I had to give and
still did not love me back.

Plagued with the thought
I was taken for granted,
I lifted myself to my feet.
I could not stand the sight of something so lovely,
who did not see the same in me.

Just as I had decided,
I was leaving it all behind.
Something so soft and tender,
caught the corner of my eye.

In the back of my garden stood brightly,
a beautiful Daisy so tall.
A beautiful little flower,
who had seemed the loveliest of all.
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