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 Feb 2017 Madison Greene
sancus
my cheeks may be stained by tears,
my heart may be filled with scars,
and my head may still be spinning with the thoughts of you
but i'll continue to stand on my feet
unless you choose to destroy me completely.
i won't let you.
This is who we are,
wilted,
hurt,
We are all in a rough mental state
like roses in which are dying,
we are the last picked,
who wants a scarred girl and a wilted flower
 Feb 2017 Madison Greene
Ciara
YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR OPTIONS OPEN AND I DON'T BLAME YOU
I WOULDN'T CHOOSE ME EITHER
Us
You make my heart ache
clench, quiver, and sway
Break it into pieces
and watch it fade away.

Yet one look into your eyes
and I'd let you do it once more.
Hurt me over and over
and I'd still demand an encore.

But do you really love me?
Or are you just using me too?
Did "us" ever exist?
Or was I just hung up on you?

Because you swore to me
that one starry night
under the stars,
under the moonlight

That you'd never hurt me
and we were meant forever
But what if really
forever lasted for never?

Yet all these doubts
and questions in my mind
went away at your touch
and the stars realigned.

And I was stuck again
drowning deep in your eyes
weakening at your touch
as I let down my disguise

Because you were the only one
who ever saw the real me
and my heart still belongs to you
though everyone says it shouldn't be.

And you can call me stupid
for not being able to see
I meant nothing to you
But you meant everything to me...
Definitely needs to be edited and whatnot, but just wanted to get my thoughts down. (I'm working on a new book and the protagonist is a poet so this is something she 'wrote'). If anyone wants to recommend a better title, please comment.
Its just absolutely sad to see when you come back to something
and everything has *changed
I once used words to build a girl wings,
Made her an angel who flew on false strings,
I wrote her endless passages of heartfelt emotion,
as I sat and stared out at the endless blue ocean.

But now I feel to much, to find the prose,
to compare your beauty, to that of a rose,
for it's incomparable, to all else I see,
but know that you, are beauty to me.

So though I don't write like I once did of her,
know that it's you, that I prefer.
For the right words don't exist, to say I love you,
but I assure you that, I truly do
when everything we touch
either turns to ash
or turns to gold
we must learn
when to hold on
and when to let go
Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                     By Phil Roberts
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