Poetry

Poetry

Devil


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I feel my soul
untying from my body.
As I start to float in the air
I turn around
and look down.
I see my naked body
lying in the bathtub full of blood.
I see the pistol lying next to me on the floor,
and the place where I shot myself.
The heart.
Cuz that’s where I felt most of my pain.
I didn’t want to hurt anymore.
So I thought
if I just stop my heart
all my hurt and sorrow would go away.
But now as I stare down
at my lifeless self
I realize
my life was better than I thought.
What did I do to myself?!
I screamed
but I don’t hear a thing.
I pray to God to forgive me
and let me live.
I hope all this is a dream
that any second now I will wake up
to my alarm clock.
But I don’t wake up.
I’m floating higher and higher.
I’m at the gates of Heaven now.
I ask God to forgive me
and not to send me to hell.
He says, “Not to worry my child.
I am here for you
every step of the way.
You will stay in Heaven with me
for the rest of your days.”
I feel better now.
I feel safe
and protected.
Like if the Devil tried to reach out his hands
and snatch me away
he wouldn’t be able to
cuz God is my savior
and he has saved me
from the Devil’s clutch.

excerpt from Love! Lost! Pain! published by Jessica Trapp

Poetry

I want the…


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I want the you that God knows,
not the you the world sees.
I want the wake up at 3 am,
drive to the beach to watch the sunrise
and talk about our heart’s desires.
I want the sit on the kitchen floor,
eating brownies out of the pan
and laughing until our bellies ache.
I want the broken moments,
a roll over in the middle of the night
to hold onto safety after a nightmare.
I want the decision making coversations
about our futures.
I want the hold each other close
in the middle of a park
as our walls crumble down around us.
In a world filled with masks,
filters, and instant gratification,
I want the time spent slowing our worlds down
looking in each other’s eyes
and discovering each other daily.
I want the imperfectly perfect.
I want the push to chase our dreams
and never lose sight of what makes us unique.
I want the travel the world
and make memories on hotel balconies.
I want the you and me
against the world mentality.
Most of all
I want the future.
Day in and day out
with you by my side.
I want the you that God knows,
not the you the world sees.

Poetry

Don’t Let Her Go


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everything you’ve ever wanted
everything you’ve been praying for
is standing right in front of you.
you see,
her smile and her beautiful green eyes
they don’t just shine for anyone.
the heart she gives freely
doesn’t love absently
but abundantly.
you want freedom,
room to spread your wings and fly

she’ll give you that.
you want honesty, simplicity,
a partner who will fight along side you
instead of against you?

that’s her.
she doesn’t play games.
she works hard, hustles,
puts forth effort in every area of her life.
she has no time for jealousy,
or wasted energy,
because when she gives herself,
it’s all of her.
Don’t try to push her away,
or fear that it’s too real to be true,
because what is standing in front of you
is the greatest thing to ever happen to you.
trust me,
the gentle caress of her hand,
the softness in her voice,
the strength behind her actions,
it’s all real,
and she is a once in a lifetime kind of love.
don’t let her go.

Poetry

Booty


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Booty
Booty
Booty
That’s all I hear
But never beautiful
Whispered in my ear
You stare
You touch
You say “DAMN, that ass!”
My heart and my soul
Are none to be grasped
A piece if art
A prize to be had
Unravel my being
You will gaze upon heaven
As my booty is golden
But my heart is a diamond

Poetry

History Repeats Itself


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They say history repeats itself
over and over and over
the same history is repeated daily in my head
the same words relayed in different forms
written
text
verbal
communication drowns out the fear
and laughter shines light on a darkened corner
only for a little while
you see, history repeats itself
when is healing supposed to begin
if the constant reminder of battles fought
rip open new wounds
the soft touch of love can cover the pain
but ever so fleeting my hand in yours
as the sweet taste of your lips gets lost to the wind
until tomorrow, we meet history again