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Day one, first tear.
Day two, come here.
Day three, sink in.
Day four, reality shock.
Day five, lost mind.
Day six, let's end this.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
A personal thought
TSK Sep 2014
One love so pure,
None could defer,
Not even Satan's try.
Two arms stretched wide,
They broke our pride,
And set us loose to fly.
Three in One,
Father, Spirit, Son,
Always whole and free.
Three nails held there,
In His despair,
For you and for me.
Forgiven true,
What He went through
To rescue every soul.
Five pints of blood,
An infinite love,
They saved the world in whole.
amie Aug 2014
i.
i know that the ear is connected to the nose and the nose is connected to the throat and the throat is connected to the mouth
which is probably why, when we kiss, i hear symphonies
and when i hear "i love you" travel from your lips to my ear
i taste bliss on the tip of my tongue

ii.
i read somewhere that smell is most strongly attached to memory
this means that i will keep your t shirt forever, and maybe your shampoo, too
apparently photographs are not enough

iii.
someone told me that it is not the eyes, but the brain that sees
eyes are just transmitters
but what i see in front of me must be love because it does not register with my mind at all
but my heart translates it beautifully for me
it knows exactly why its own beat becomes erratic when you enter my thoughts
it knows exactly what's going on in this tenement of flesh i call my body

iv.
they say that the last of the five senses is not touch, but equilibrium
which is probably why, when i don't feel your hands in mine
when there is air and not skin
my whole world is off-kilter
i know what it means to fall in love
This isn't about anyone in particular, just what I feel like love would feel if I ever get to feel it.
shåi Aug 2014
i begin to run
from the very thing
that i am

one.

the chase begins
a fight between
mind and body

two.

i suffer the inability to comprehend
the world and myself
my enemy is gaining control

three.

i lose my thoughts
i have lost the ability to
once love

four.

i punch the mirror
of myself
for words scrawled
hold an empty truth

five.

it never been there  all along
it had only been
myself

(b.d.s.)
suggestions are welcome!
Colleen Brown Aug 2014
One Two Three Four Five.
A poem for you to count.
Six Eight Nine Ten...Oops.
Gotta Love the occasional Haiku.
Maggie Emmett Aug 2014
Morning pallor on a grey day
not a five cent shine
to the sun.

Bitumen hissed all night
trees tossed and tangoed
shuddered and split.

Navy clouds, blue with rain
surfed in from the ocean
racing on the wild wind
learning to scream.

The stones listened
moon listed and tried to find
a space in the cloud-tide rush
to quiet-light the gloom.

Morning Armistice on a pale grey day
of debris and displacement
refugees and leaf litter
surrender and detachment
silent and still
only a five cent shine to the sun

© M.L.Emmett
thoughts to dump May 2014
I was more
than that
of a black hole
before your eyes,
five years ago.

But today,
you brought me
out from nothingness.

I’m shining
like Polaris,
watching over you
as you sail
through
rough seas.
Kaye Canter May 2014
5am
When I wake at 5am,
I no longer am greeted by tufts of blond and brown.
Instead I am greeted by a pillow
With an empty indent where you used to lay
And it is then that I realize
When I wake at 5am
you will never awaken with me.
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