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 Mar 2016 BrittneyForever
Mic
Tension is the result of holding on to the insubstantial.
It's unnatural
It takes effort.
You ask for an effortless life,
then laugh,
for laughter is release
Relax
Be grateful for what you don't have to keep
Once upon a time I was young
Or that's how the story should go
But truth be told I've never felt that old
Others tell stories of youth
In wonder
Speaking about the glory years
And I hear about the past
And how they lived
While I'm still living it
And wonder
If the best stories never told
Are by those that decided
I won't die while still living
Because the best part of everything
Is simply
All the beginnings
Always..
it's always going to be my fault

No matter what you did or what you said
it will be my fault

Even the lies you tell
will be my fault

The love you gave and the love you lost
will be my fault

The pain you feel and the tears you shed
will be my fault

The agony and the injustice of it all
will be my fault

And the punches I took and the bitter words you spat
will be my fault

The obsessive
possessive
jealous
rage
you poured upon me
will be my fault

The others you slept with and threw in my face
will be my fault

The secret child you made
will be my fault

and so I left you

that will not be my fault

that would be yours.
C ould you,
L oosen your grip on my reigns?
O bviously, you
C an't see how you're,
K illing me softly
W here am I now, where do I sleep?
O ver and over it replays on my mind,
R everbirating sound of whips tearing my skin
K indly put me down, and just put me out of my misery.
 Mar 2016 BrittneyForever
re-deem
Broken girl, why are you crying?
Did you not find God today
in the world? In the words
of another, your mother?
Is it someone else's fault you are broken?
Some words spoken
Old wounds opened
That blood will stain stain stain
Pressure can heal that wound
Apply
Apply yourself
Kiss my salty tears away
Hold me so that i feel protected from harm
Let me slumber in your loving arms with your whispering caress
The soft breeze of the ebony night comforts me
in my sleep tonight
 Mar 2016 BrittneyForever
eileen
My little grey dress
The day is almost coming

The dress is so plain
No rain

But when I have to go
Don't cry my love

My pretty
Pink lips painted
My hair not combed
But messy

The night was made to cry
Because there's no light

My time is coming
And yet I can feel
The sunrise as well
 Mar 2016 BrittneyForever
TDN
there is joy in this:
that you woke up this morning;
there's breath in your lungs.
 Mar 2016 BrittneyForever
ryan
The Hiker reaches the foot of the mountain
And pulls out his map,
Laden with a golden path in lemniscates  
Knowing where he is to go
For he had known this since he set foot out
His door.

Day by day he scales a piece of the mountain
Face, lacking not skill, but
Having patience, knowing the safe and
Prosperous journey is the
Patient one, the one whose tree of meaning
Is rooted in passion, the passion
To wait.

The Hiker fears not the delay of the summit
For the summit is already his,
Her hand his bride, for it is known in the
Hikers name who he is meant for:
The Summit, forever and for always.
I will have you, tomorrow
Or forever away, it is already known.

— The End —