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Messages - stacy

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1
Poetry / Writing / Painful Memories
« on: August 17, 2002, 08:45:35 am »
Here is one of my poems. Tell me what you think.

                                "Soul Thief"

I feel a pain,
a hurt inside.
An emptiness
I cannot hide.

I used to keep
feelings bottled inside.
They burned and they churned,
I felt like I died.

I still feel dead
walking around.
I try to scream
but cannot make a sound.

My breath is shut off
I have been silenced.
By a single act,
an act of violence.

I feel filthy.
I am not clean.
He has hurt me.
He was mean.

I begged him to stop,
but he said no.
He's broken me,
he brought me down low.

My suffering is not solely
contained within.
It's now on the outside,
brought out by him.

My pain is not evident,
not seen to everyone.
But look in my eyes:
I've been shot by a gun.

My eyes fill with tears,
I want to cry.
If not yet,
soon I will die.

I opened my soul.
I let him look in.
He raped my heart
and made me sin.

He took away
all joy that I had.
He has confused me
and made me sad.

I am alone,
alone and confused.
Now I can see
that I have been used.

Can you see
the hurt inside?
Do I show it
on my outside?

How can I show you
what I feel?
How do I explain,
when I don't know what's real?

How do words tell
the pain you've caused me?
Why don't you know?
Why don't you see?

You're looking at me.
You don't understand.
You abuse and you use:
you're just being a "man".

Now I feel like
less and less.
I am small.
I am useless.

I've been hurt
by men before.
Here again.
Why didn't I see what was in store?

I was naive,
stupid and small.
I should have known.
Now I fall.

I am sinking and dropping,
drowning am I,
my life taken away...
now I die.

2
Poetry / Writing / Hmmmm....
« on: August 17, 2002, 09:12:38 am »
This one was written at a time that I was really happy. LOL!!!  ;D  What do ya'll think?

                            "A Grave Mistake?"

I'm standing here
wondering why
am I here
I don't know why.

I feel I've made
a grave mistake
in coming here;
am I awake?

You arseure me
that I am
here for a reason
I don't understand.

I'm here for you
is what you say
but I am scared.
Should I run away?

My knees they quake
I can't stand still.
My body shakes
against my will.

You see the fear
my eyes reflect.
You draw me near
without regret.

I tremble then
as your hand reaches up.
My eyes close when
my face you "cup".

Your lips descend:
I nearly swoon.
To your touch I bend
anticipating what's coming soon.

Wandering hands
drop to my breasts.
I feel you are a man
as them you caress.

Lips follow hands
on the journey to the south.
More! my body demands
as I'm kissed by your mouth.

A moment later
our clothes are gone.
My body cannot wait
until we are one.

Your hands go lower,
your fingers explore.
My body bends over
as I drop to the floor.

Your hands they move
in and out.
With every touch
I want to shout.

Shout for joy,
scream with pleasure.
You've taught me, boy,
this moment I'll treasure.

Then your lips
descend to my secret zone.
Your tongue it flicks
and then I moan.

You lean back
and then pull near.
I feel you then,
I long for you dear.

You push in,
up inside of me.
How long has it been?
Why didn't I see?

How good it feels:
pure ecstacy!
I can't believe it's real,
that you're with me.

Then you came,
sweet release.
I'll never be the same,
thank you for this.

I'm glad I said yes,
I was not mistaken.
It was only a decision
that was given and taken.

3
Poetry / Writing / my thoughts
« on: August 23, 2002, 01:44:14 pm »
                         "My Thoughts"

Why did I try
to hide my feelings?
To hide underneath
a blanket of fear?

All of my life
was spent in uncertainties.
All of my days
worrying away my youth.

I hoped for someone
to take away my cares,
but that someone doesn't exist...
all I'm left with is pain.

Today I decided:
to take it away,
to make it end,
to stop it here.

And so I lay here
awaiting my end.
It's funny how death
brings about thoughts of life.

But never the good things done...
always the undone,
those you've hurt,
the shortcomings of your life.

Things I've failed to do
run wild in my head.
It's out-of-control thnking,
I can't hear what you've said.

I see people's faces
with mouths moving fast.
Everything is white and bright
then dashed with splashes of red.

I don't choose to listen
to the babbeling faces here.
Instead my mind wanders back
to thoughts of those I've failed.

The man I love and leave alone,
the children he and I share,
the friends -- I didn't think they cared --
but for them I tried to be there.

My trying never was enough;
my love: it always fell short.
That's what I see
looking back on my life:

images of failure,
things undone,
and regret.

But all I can do
with all these thoughts
is lay here and think as I die.

4
Poetry / Writing / happiness to work for
« on: August 17, 2002, 09:00:04 am »
Here's another of my poems. It doesn't have a name yet. But, let me know what ya'll think.

Why was I so reckless with my heart?
so foolish and stupid...
I gave it up
for a moment or two.
Everyone tells me:
"Why did you do that?"
"Why didn't you wait?"
"Why didn't you think?"
It didn't matter what they said!
I thought I was wise!
I thought I was tough!
I thought wrong!
I should have listened to all that they said,
but then again,
their words came too late,
too late for me to hear.
When you close yourself up
to the words and the truth,
when you shut your eyes
to the light all around you.
That's when the thieves come in
to plunder and loot
to rob you of what's yours
your self-respect and your heart.
It's partly their fault,
the lying, cheating thieves,
but mostly mine...
because I chose not to see.
I looked past all of the signs.
I silenced the warning bells
that went off in my mind.
When you shut yourself up,
when you just don't want to see,
that's when you get hurt
and wonder: why didn't you see?
Then it all comes
crashing down
around your ears
and what have you found?
Happiness is not found
in a single moment,
but worked at and striven for
and then you can own it.
Then you can stand up
proud and say:
the happiness I've worked for
will never go away.
Because it was earned
by your sweat and your blood,
it will remain
forever, in your heart.

5
Poetry / Writing / confusion from within
« on: August 23, 2002, 01:55:21 pm »
                   "Confusion From Within"

There's a creature inside me,
evil and dark.
helongs to break free,
he burns like a spank.

He dresses in black,
there's anger in store,
he never looks back,
he makes me sore.

I feel afraid
of this one inside.
I wish to run away,
I want to hide.

But he calls to me.
He draws me in.
I'll never be free
I drink of him.

His eyes are pools
of darkness to me.
I play the fool,
of this I see.

He causes me strain,
but yet this treasure,
erases the pain,
and gives me pleasure.

His lips upon mine
taste sickly sweet.
Similar to wine,
which is not a drink, but meat.

He is of the night,
this creature of strife.
he tries with all his might
to steal away my life.

Yet I want him...
I swear...
to obey his whim,
of this I dare.

I cherish the moments,
the darkness this night.
I await the time;
he takes away my might.

I bow down to his will
and, yet,
he still
can make me forget:

His darkness,
wickedness,
evilness
that cause me distress.

There's a creature inside me,
dark and black,
he longs for me
and I long for him back.

6
Poetry / Writing / for best friends
« on: August 23, 2002, 01:59:41 pm »
Aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwww...cute!!! This is a poem I wrote for my best friend Melody.  :)

                           "My Melody Song"

A Melody is a song,
a spell from above.
A whisper of sweetness,
a story of love.

A musical note
found within the heart.
Not spoken nor played
by a flute or a harp.

My Melody is sung
by my twin and soulmate,
this Melody's love
is not false nor fake.

She's my best friend
when things go wrong.
She'll be there 'till the end:
my Melody, my song.

7
Yatta Yatta Yatta / Re: Last day in Austin.
« on: August 23, 2002, 02:03:09 pm »
But, Sal, look at it this way...isn't there a Wallbangers in the valley?  ;)  You can always visit Austin or SA for a party. Don't be sad!!!

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