You Follow Me?

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Boom! 200-Thanks for the follows!!!

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Yup, I got this shiny little achievement just over a week ago, so I’m dedicating this post to you, all my faithful readers, every last one.  You know, each time I hit the publish button, I think for a second, and it still blows me away that there’s actually people out there that take valuable time out of their  busy lives to read my two cents.

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Continue reading “You Follow Me?”

I Can See You Again

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I could not hold my breath any longer,
your back to me that day.
I expected so many things until,
until that moment when you turned,
to shed a tear so real
…it still hurts.

Reaching…

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I’ve done what I have promised against.

The cross I bear weighs heavy with fault.

I’m sentenced to wander,

hopeless and trapped in self-pity,

with only regret to keep me company.

Tibbs

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By the rickety rim, farewell till the morrow.
Moonlit, as stones were kicked.
Our colloquies went on.
Foolish I,
you…
the antics,
ne’er be by flesh more longer,
but by souls,
still sit nightly.

 

 

Am I still?

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Am I still…
a string of your heart?
Or does it lie frayed, too torn apart.
Seasoned now, but still we’re broken,
enough has always been, left unspoken.
See my light, I’ve been casting in hope,
I swear this absence has no cope.
Our detached strings will again accrete,
I won’t stop trying until I feel your beat.

 

We were the Warriors

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Indolent Saturdays poking things with sticks.
We ran the back hills of our home.
Three soldier foray, we flanked…pretending.
Skinned knees and eye pokes, no bother,
as we’d rather dare and tell more lies.

 

Disturbed

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Ululating beasts disturb the rem of my fantasy.
I lie cowering from the tap, tap, tapping.
Scads of hurt chase sweet dreams into nightmares
…just this time don’t awaken me.

Weathered

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A haloed nimbus, like a surge, it comes on without forecast.
Emotions raw, cold, the flashes like lightning.
Still I have neither a hand to squeeze, nor an ear to my voice.
Nothings protected but my foolish promise to you.
Those furtive actions lie forever buried in the sands of time,
like your lifeless soul that erodes with the winds of change.

The Rain Made Me Do It

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I surveil the abstract of raindrops as they slither the outside pane
its journey, merely a moment in time
each tiny drop…
they dazzle like fireworks synchronizing with my deluge of thoughts now cached from a once juvenile me
I beam with the sound of the pitter-patter
the torrent tone lulls me to a reminiscent state as I recall the stories of my olden

The Torment

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Again, I lie awake, assuaged by the stillness of night,
a clock ticking, then tocking, slowly teasing me with dawn.
Soon the fringe of daylight will edge toward tomorrow,
exposing my scars of yesterday, barely healed.
Why is there no end to the torment?