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She Sits
She sits alone,
and knows that no one cares.
She sits alone,
and knows that it's not fair.
She sits alone,
and thinks about her bind.
She sits alone,
and knows that it's not fine.
She sits alone,
her shoulders slumped and beaten.
She sits alone,
and knows that she's defeated.
She sits with blade in hand,
and thinks about her life.
She sits with blade in hand,
and gets her final high.
She sits with blade in hand,
and crimson on her arms.
She sits with blade in hand,
and she has no more qualms.
She sits with blade in hand,
her life hangs by a thread.
She sits with blade in hand,
and now her soul is reft.
Anger
Hate filled,
want to kill.
Feeling anger all again.
Fists clenched,
unbenched.
Holding it all in again.
Violence,
completely tense.
Hearing pounding in the head.
Let loose,
unconfused.
This time I'm not gonna lose.
Unrelenting,
and unebbing.
Seeing red and feeling ready.
Nothing now,
will hold me down.
Sensing fear all around.
Feeling me,
and hearing me.
Nothing now that they can see,
will prepare them for the take.
The take when I completely BREAK.
Demise
The love I hold may be a sweet demise,
for the one I love may be too much in my eyes.
I may be setting up to be hurt I know,
just like I was not too long ago.
The woman I love,
holds my heart in her hands.
Like from above,
she could kill in a glance.
All I know is how I want it to be,
as perfect as either of us can see.
I know I might fall to darkness en route,
though hold love near and hold it true.
This demise that might befall,
would kill me oh so quickly.
And as I feel so very small,
she holds me close to protect me.
I love her so,
so very much,
yet nothing seems to be fine.
With less than even a single touch,
I could be dying inside.
Missing
Missing her like I do,
the burning fire enflamed anew.
As I wish to be with her,
Everything only seems to hurt.
To see her face,
to hear her laugh,
would be the ultimate pleasure.
Everything seems to be,
only opposite to the weather.
Depressed I am,
I know it so,
yet that I can't control.
I taste the tang,
I feel the blow,
and all of this I know.
Now to be with her,
to hold her close,
would make me happy again.
And I can't do anything until then.
To help her through her life,
not missing tears or smiles,
is the only thing that keeps me going,
even for a little while.
Now to see her I cannot,
and all seems to be lost.
I see her face,
day after day;
it makes me weak yet strong,
I only hope now I can keep on holding on.
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This poetry is mostly about what I'm thinking about at the time, and most of it was written in the past two months. Critiques if anyone will, but only constructive critiques please.
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Just call me Ice
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