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 Jan 2018 Shiny Star
Molly
I've got scars on my wrist
I've got scars on my wrist from the time I got too drunk
I got too drunk because I wanted to be brave enough
To be brave enough to tell him I loved him
I told him I loved him in the same breath as I told him I was dying
I was dying because my eyes wouldn't stay open
Eyes wouldn't stay open because I kept closing them
Kept closing them because I didn't want to see the blood all over one of the good white towels
All over one of the good white towels because I tried to wash it off in the shower but it kept bleeding
Kept bleeding because I cut deeper than I thought I had
Cut deeper than I thought I had because I couldn't feel it
Couldn't feel it because I was too drunk
I was too drunk because I drank all the beers left in the fridge and the ***** in the freezer
The ***** in the freezer because the beer wasn't strong enough
Wasn't strong enough
Wasn't strong enough
Does love even exist?
I'd like to know if its out there.
The people who say they love me really don't at all.
After all...what is love?
I lie awake each night
Long after you're asleep
I envy your restful slumber
Through salty eyes I weep

As the air thickens
I struggle just to breathe
Bowing my head in sorrow
I pray so desperately

Grant my mind solace
If my thoughts go astray
Allow my soul to carry on through grief courageously

Protect me from the pain
That haunts my every thought
Awaken my restless spirit
If my dreams become too dark

Make my heart resilient
If it shatters painfully
Teach me about patience
While I gather it piece by piece

Allow me the courage
To assemble it once again
As I try not to crush
The fragile pieces in my hand

If my strength grows weary
And I tremble at the knees
Hold my hand and steady me
So I stumble gracefully
Writing this poem helped me through one of the darkest hours of my life. Out of pain, we can create much beauty. We just need to listen to the soul. I hope it helps you see the beauty through your pain.
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Finally. I'd been striving for a one word poem. After achieving it, I wanted a no word poem. Here it is. I guess this is no longer mine, but ours.

"The Invisible Poem" was selected as the Daily.
I'm humbled... to say nothing.
But I believe a response is necessary.
To all those who liked, loved and commented, I say thank you. I've read all you've written, and most of it is very creative and complimentary.
There are others, detractors, who claim "*******," etc.
Well of course, this only begs the question, "What is poetry?"
I can't answer that. I've written on it. But what I do know is what poetry should do. Its purpose.
If a poem should arouse emotions, bad or good, make people think, have people want to write, to express themselves (and I believe I'm on the mark here), then, anything can be a poem. Even a page with lines on it.
Thanks again to all the readers.
And if you're still *******, don't attack me... go after Elliot. :)
It need not be 'and' or 'or',
There's room for both,
And so much more.

Closeted, our life grows staid,
Bound to tracks that habit laid.

We yearn for change, we yearn for 'more',
Yet trawl the paths we've walked before.

At close of day, when darkness calls,
Do we rejoice, or hold remorse?
A quick poem which came to mind when considering procrastination, forever putting off the changes needed for whatever and wherever we want to be.
 Nov 2017 Shiny Star
I'm Tired
Habit
 Nov 2017 Shiny Star
I'm Tired
It's all a matter of habit
Nails biting
Lips moving
Hands shaking
We can't control what controls us
It is feeling powerless that breaks us inside
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