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****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. ****
I want you to **** me.
 Aug 2017 Cindy Long
Ash
Pathetic
Is a name am calling my self lately
For I have become what I always said i'll never be
Its 4am and am alone in this bed
Thinking about all the possible ways that should cause my death
It is scary up there in my mind
From all the scary thoughts crossing it
Am doubting everything around me
And am this close to hit my head
Will I ever be optimistic? Or am I stuck in this moving train only going further from what I always wished to be.
Am calling your name, asking for help.
But you keep stabbing me and asking me why I bleed.
I'll lay on the ground surrounded by my blood waiting for a miracle, or the announcement of my death.
You know it’s nothing but emptiness,
When you fail phrasing your feelings in words.
Other people might call it love rather than emptiness.

But let me tell you this:
Without emptiness,
We wouldn’t find warmth in love.

Some say love is frigidly cold,
Some say love is fondly warm.
Yet as seasons change from Summer to Winter,
Love will too.

And I’ve reached the point where I stopped seeking for love in people,
But in invisible objects that can keep me alive.

Can invisible objects really keep you alive?
Or will they leave you terrified?

Well, a definition for ‘Invisible Objects’ would be:
‘Emotions’.
And in the end,
Their purpose is to Not. Keep. You. Alive.
 Aug 2017 Cindy Long
pia
Solitaire
 Aug 2017 Cindy Long
pia
A deck of hearts
A deck of spades
Some cards to get me
through the day

Shuffle the stack
And mix them so
You lay them down
And you're good to go

Black goes with red
Red goes with black
No cards in hand?
take three from the stack

Now we go from King
then Queen to Jack
Red, black, red
Black, red, black

If you've played for some time
it's safe to say
you've come across a card
that had an A
don't be confused, it's called an ace
If you find all four,
it's your lucky day!

So here's a truth
I'm sure you can bare
Congratulations, my friend
You just played solitaire
at a writing workshop and they asked us to make a poem out of something we had in our bags. I brought a tin with cards.
Time is a whisper
That echoes across the void
Sullen as we are
My life has need of an angel...
Her voice,
Her eyes,
Her breath against my ear.
Alas, her nearness makes my skin rise
Like the tide to the moon.
Her heat gives breadth to my soul:
It ignites and disperses
Like the first moment of creation!
She kindles my star shine and
Sets my spirit in motion,
Forever to cross
The glinting firmament!

Her lips release that heat,
That light, that longing.
It is her feathery lips that
Whisper a hint of Heaven;
Eternity offered as a gift from
The roseate wreath that blooms
Tenderly.
Those petals of sweetest desire
Convey a prayer sublime,
A chant of harmonic unity;
An invitation calling me up
From my racked posture,
My world-weary stoop, as I
Tremble in the throes of defeat.
I am summoned to stand and to
Fight on! My journey continues!

She gives a herald of hope, with words
Of honor and encouragement.
Rousing sounds permeate from
The ivory and rose
Corner of her delicate mouth,
Sensuous, silky and moist,
Drenched as waves upon
An ocean of dreams!

They speak:
Lips that tell of verdant fields
In spring,
Of summer’s bliss
Unending!
Of lover’s song,
Lost but still lingering.

My Angel’s breath brings forth
The fruit of my aspiration,
My inspiration,
And my art in thou.

Bursting upward
Through the ruddy clay!
Words rendered as a child at play!
In the radiant splendor of her divine luminance.

Finally,
Her voice within my heart breaks into
Love-song and laughter,
And my life is once again inspired,
Raised up and renewed.
Time has shown my ignorance.
How is it
All my gold languishes in the
Shadows of my own intentions
Melting in the fire of my aspirations
Only to flood the gutters of
Redundancy .

I might as well limit my oxygen
To a plastic sack.
Then again,
I wouldn't be the first.
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