Poetry - sounds that don't make sense, Ruthy Fenchak
Poetry
a conversation
poem number 5,668,001 on pain and suffering
all the gauze in the world cannot cover up what i am feeling
eyelids shut
winter has a bad habit of not making up it's mind (stay or go?)
Abraham Lincoln goes more places than me, and he is deceased
if the answer's in the question, then i, my dear sir, am screwed
watch your mouth
the only if I allow for
I will warm you
a thought
let's get this going
inkstorm
winter
hate is a strong word, but baby i get to use it
i see you everywhere i go
seasons
somehow i have no regrets
to the black dahila
death can have each inhale and exhale
night life
sometimes the one you love (consumes you)
you're like god but completely fallible
a still life
the insane girl's lovesong
relationship
how to face the future when your past won't disapear
at the end of each sentence slice in the word "mother" ((now you are beginning to see the problem))
july is here again
..was.te....
??Question??
and this moment rides inside... our hearts.... waiting
poem number 5,668 on pain and suffering
911 emergency
and yet again, i find myself writing about you
the paper chased away the dreams and doubts
the white cat
i like your brand of pain
i keep being reminded of you
facade
wither, quiet flower
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