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Dearest true love:

It's mother's day dearest darling: My blessed imaginary friend PJC/JPC= rddbba- well not so imaginary but a real true love.
You your blessed deeds remains like the stars above like the many constellations, distant in sight, but never far from mind and heart.

There are so many treasures gone wrong all which fell into enemies hands treasure map and all. Even my offspring went missing. Janehiltonmay
Our dream that did not breath in the face of reality. My heart is shattered glued back together together, Its a stubborn heart of gold does anyone need such a heart? Alone and destitute kept alive by grace of an old memory chip. After all the sacrifices carrying for everyone beloved-
On my own again.
I love you so much and you my precious grown treasures my children, my true love pat= rdd be well my love thank you for thinking of me loving me across the unsurmountable obstacles.
May God keep you blessed safe never ever feeling alone I am just a thought away..loving you understanding you treasuring all of you all that is a part of you.
It looks like I did read between the lines and I need it now that I am older

Much love true love Mom.
Angelinabba. AKA Janehiltonmay.
~~
All rights reserved 41654-10:30AM Mich Mex.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=6YSAMo6TmkE&si=q6lhg8RXreockKTT
RC 1d
I sometimes wonder what it's like to have real friends
and I realize the reason I don't think I have them
is because I'm not one
I'm selfish
and I don't want to know what you're going through
because I'm going through enough
and if I care I care too much
so I'm absent
and I'm convinced that one day
I will be able to fill my cup
so I can healthily pour over
but until then I am not a friend.
His last words; I tried
He last heard; I know

The next day, he saw angels fly
The next week he felt them glow

The years stacked on like fire
The same years he met people he didn’t know

Until the time came like chain on a wire
Until he met the person again, that made his heart grow
I haven’t given up,
But the energy inside me
has dimmed over time.

Life has swallowed me whole,
And I’m caught in the tide of a
never-ending spiral,
Drowning at every word.

Will I make it out of
this storm, or be carried away
by the waters, no sign of life
and screams left unheard?

I’m content with suffering,
but this emptiness inside me,
persists without warning.

I forgot how to feel,
Forgot how to smile,

The last time I felt
something,

I haven’t felt that
way in a while.

And so life
reminds me,

That no matter
what I do, or where
I go,

My problems always
follow me, even when
I’m alone.

I haven’t given up,
And I haven’t broken
down,

But I know my
problems won’t go away
until I’m six feet underground.
Bowedbranches Apr 24
I guess I should thank you
For the solitude
I definitely do
Deserve some me time
relahxe Mar 28
The windows are closed,
The lights are off,
My mind and I are all I´ve got.

My friends are there,
nowhere to be found,
and I am here
all alone.

I wish I could,
reach out and feel
the love for you
I always craved.

But all I have,
and all I know,
is the way
the bottles
stir up my soul.

I missed you once,
I missed you twice,
Then I drank,
Forgot at once.

I knew there was more,
and I opened the door,
you entered with pride,
but I was alive.
A C Mar 22
When I’m in my solitude
Like when I’m in my room
And that’s why I choose
I love to enter my mind like it’s a separate room
Now when I’m forced to enter my brain
Cause what’s on the outside causes me pain
like when your friends do include you with their other friends
and it feels like i’m circling the drain
like when your high school and you the one that’s lame
and you don’t fit cause you dye your hair every color of the rainbow
and each month it’s never the same
or when your boyfriend breaks up with you
so you have to take a break from interacting with the world and every dude
I don’t have to imagine how it feels when shawty did the exact thing she said she wouldn’t do
and you say **** school
so you tell your mom and your mom tells your school counselor she pages you in her office so you can have someone to talk to
but when I choose to be alone
that’s something I own
that’s something that founded
now when you go to a predominantly white institution and get called ****** on the way to dorm on a college game day
you cant help but to feel other
to acknowledge your color
and feel like you cant relate to another who hasn’t had that experience
you just go to your room but not cause you choose
maria Mar 19
Typically greeted with clanking dishes and crumbs on the counter,
this week, I was alone.
Cleared out was my eclectic apartment;
it was just me who I greeted at the end of the day.
I didn't speak out loud as I would,
but my mind had a relentless narrative
of look at this and what about that.

It was natural,
it was lovely,
and it was calm.

Leave me alone for too long
and dim shadows start to look like ghosts.
But make way for me some space,
and I flourish in my own company.
silence
sweet silence
like none other
despite the library door
slamming everytime
someone leaves or arrives

it seems to slam louder
when they leave

i am not perturbed
or distracted, nor am i
expecting not to be

here, alone, surrounded by books,
i just am

lamenting this place not being
as busy
as it should be
who’s fault is that?

celebrating this place not being
as busy
as it should be
guilty as charged

all these faces i see
it’s like a small town here
sometimes abandoned
sometimes inhabited

once again,
i don’t care

how can i?
my head, full of
Aurelius and Bukowski
doesn’t have space to

well, deep down,
i guess i do care
but not as much as
i suppose society begs i
should

how can i?
i’m too busy figuring out
who i truly am
and the books help, Bukowski
was correct, these philosophers are
like brothers to me and i speculate
my deep “connection” to them
to men whom i never met
yet felt more fatherly care from
than my own

maybe that’s the root

sometimes, all this reading begs the question

do i like books
more than people?
or people more
than books?

i think i know the answer,
eureka!

i love books, and individuals alike
i don’t like people
especially when they group up
in congregations and crowds,
strangers in a
can of sardines
with no space to possibly
ever care

only to survive and barely breathe
or to escape such a reality

how could i?
when they don’t
even care for themselves

it’s disheartening, really
to witness such potential
in one soul
and watch it *******
melt away
around his or her friends

around their families’
incessant influence and needs
abusing providers

consumed by their personal troubles and struggles
and vices, infected by the amplification of
a hang out
girls night
boys night
the clubs, the bars
the gossips of nonsense and ****
that simply isn’t their business

sewage

their obvious and yet
radiantly painful,
like a sunburn that isn’t on you
but hurts to look at on someone else,
avoidance of themselves
begging the following:

could these souls spend
an hour, alone, with a book
and paper and pencil?

how could they?

they’d like to, i’m sure,

but hate themselves just enough
to not be able to.

-melancholicreator
i dont know, i was in a mood

enjoy.
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