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  Sep 2018 Semicolon
Em MacKenzie
I’m on a road trip to a place called crazy
but my tank is empty and my windshield’s got a crack.
The lane’s are foggy and my vision’s hazy,
but I don’t give a single **** ‘cause I’m not coming back.

And the streets are dark and my headlight’s are broken,
My seatbelt’s fastened so tight that I am chokin’.
My tires are popped and my engine is burning
at the green I stopped but kept on learning.

I could never drive fast enough
to escape what’s left behind.
Admiring skid marks and envying every scuff
I’ll keep going even when I’m deaf and blind.

I’m on a road trip to a place called crazy
it’s settled in between “grief” and “regret.”
I’m sure a bus runs there, although I’m lazy,
and timing’s the only thing I forget.

And the streets are dark and my headlight’s are broken,
my speakers blew out, but there’s words to be spoken.
My brakes are shot and my signals are mixed,
it’s the only ride I’ve got, but it can’t be fixed.

And I’ll pass by landmarks on the side of the road,
but won’t stop for a picture, don’t want to waste a smile.
I’ve been riding the back of a trailer that cautions a heavy load,
I could pass it but I’ll stay behind for one more mile.

I could never drive fast enough
to escape what’s left behind.
I’ll keep going even though the road is rough,
I’ll keep travelling until I find my mind.
  Sep 2018 Semicolon
April
One of my favorite times of day
The world lays silent and still
I need not hear or wonder
about the thoughts besieging
myself or another.
I can laze sleepily in the silence
Enjoying the remnants of dreams
still somewhat within reach of my minds eye.
The onslaught of doubt and worry
still quiet giving me a moment maybe two before reality sets in and the noise inside won’t overwhelm me with questions I can’t or won’t answer.
  Sep 2018 Semicolon
April
Sorry is not enough.

I try to express that. I wonder
do you hear the heartache in my words or do they fall on deafened ears
These truths of mine alone do you believe them
You have been told so many lies
I thought I was saving you from pain.  
Poisoned lies that belonged not to be felt by you and your innocence though that was ruined prematurely
I was not willing to fuel  that fire  
sadly I did light the match and added kindling without intent
I thought I was protecting you saving you from some of the gore
I’m left to wonder if I caused more harm than good.
My soul aches with every beat for every lost moment
Stabbed with every ignored plea and unanswered message
I can do no more  to change that allthough  I will keep trying
I can only hope that from the ruins one day a sprout will immerse I will care for it tenderly but not overshadow it  and with every truth I pray it may grow.
#remorse #pain #hope
  Sep 2018 Semicolon
gabriela
there was a time when I looked to the stars
and I saw your face
it was simpler and less difficult
and I didn’t have to cry when I thought of you

I used to believe that your heart was the moon
and that your sun shone upon me where I walked

but the moon has grown cold
and the sun’s burned my skin
and the stars don’t look like you at all

but the moon shines where it wills
and the sun burns who it pleases
and the stars don’t really look like anything anyway
the sequel
  Sep 2018 Semicolon
kate cc
Dark sky, pouring rain.
I felt the heat from my computer under my fingertips
The occasional flash of lightning, roar of thunder.
Little snores escaped from the lips of a furry creature sound asleep.
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
The clicking of keys spell the words of my heart.
Endless sentences, wondering where to start.
The ticking of the clock, waiting for midnight's arrival.
Tick tock, tick tock.
A paradise in between the lines.
A gorgeous place where no one can find.
Where the scent of sea water lingers in the air.
Dark sky, pouring rain.
One of my favourite things to do is midnight writing. Midnight is often the best time to get inspiration, wether it's writing poems or stories.
  Sep 2018 Semicolon
gabriela
I cut off my hand
to put in a bouquet
that you didn’t keep
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