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You read my poems
You messaged me
You listened to my problems
You could relate to me
And all I can say is thank you

You really understand
Your poetry speaks to me
Like my poetry speaks to you
Your cool as hell
So again thank you

This poem is for you
Hope you enjoy
Because really
All I can say to you right now
Is simply THANK YOU!!!!

You don't know what it means to me
Coming from a broken home
And learning there is someone
Who comprehends everything
Even my crazy *** philosophy's
Its for you Anon C
The homeless,
The weak,
The poor,
The sick,
The dying,
The old,
The wise,
The young,
The stupid,
The rageful,
The pained,
The distraught,
The broken,
The suicidal,
The empty,
This is for you all
A toast
Another shot of whiskey
Another hit of ****
Just because we survived
SALUD!!!
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
GreenTea
"I didn't mean that..." he said retrieving his coat
that was resting on my shoulders
Protecting me from the wind and sleet coming down

I can deal with a lot in a relationship
the dates spent with you crying on my shoulder
me, constantly wiping away your tears
The ninja star you through at my picture
reassuring you I said "It wasn't my favorite picture anyway"

but when you sent me a bar of chocolate and the poem
Every day for two months, without much a word
or a minute in your company
a replacement for your heart
a gift that you retrieved
what are your words,
without your actions holding them up

You later told me "I didn't give anything in the past half year to you out of love"
what did you give it out of?
Pride?
revenge?
Pity?

You know better then anyone
I don't need that 5 dollar chocolate, that just goes down like a weight
or the poems, long words that meant nothing, a long way of saying
here is a page with words on it for you.
because you can't tell me in person
"You mean nothing to me but a five dollar chocolate and long words on a page"
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
GreenTea
You, Are the kid whose first word was fascinating
You are the kid that is the level
of a masters in English
You are the kid that can make music
from a wall, Hitting and pounding,
sounds just as good as a drummer so why not?

We try to touch your heart
because we know there is more
Then the video games
the electronic, noisy music
We can see it in your art

The tapping
hitting
against everything you can get your hands on
we can tell you are anxious  
why don't you come out with it?

The paintings
Hundreds of them
Of faces, all beautiful in their own way
We know you are lonely

You are the kid that picked up a paint brush for the first time
copied the contents of my painting
and made it look like a Mona Lisa

You are the kid that made more money
then his older siblings
When he was five, a little business man

You are also the kid that can listen to a fight
and ask whats for lunch right after
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
Anon C
Memory
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
Anon C
Would you cry
if I died
or just another memory
whisked away by the changing winds
for you see
I think I want to **** myself
so would you cry?
**This is my idea but it isn't me writing. At least I don't think so....**
I'm no William Shakespeare
Or Edgar Allan Poe
I'm just the average
Insane guy who's in love

I'm no Vincent van Gogh
Or Leonardo de Vinci
I'm just the guy
Who's art keeps him somewhat sane

I'm no one special
Or going to be
But I'm the guy
With a heart made just for her

Every word in every poem
I've ever written about love
Was just for her
And some were dark I know

Every line in every drawing
I've ever drawn with her name
Was a memory for her
Because I know I'll fade and die

Just one day
All I dream of
Is to be able to call her mine
To hold her and love her

I would give anything
To kiss her
To say I love her
And share this love with her

But everything I want to do
Every memory I want to create
I can only make
With a pencil and a piece of paper

I will never have a chance
To really create those moments
Or indulge in her beauty
I just have to look at it from a distance

I'm the guy
No one knows about
Or even bothers to know
I'm the one fading and dying alone

I told the world this before
I'm a no body
My poetry can't define me
Because usually it's not me I'm writing about
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
Lissa Heli
Show me all the scars you have,
and the stories behind them

I want to see the scars on your fingers.
And hear about all the demons you had to fight off with your bare hands.
did you win?

I want to see the scars on your back.
From all the people who have ever hurt you.
And how I vow to not add to that collecetion.

I want to see the scars on your heart.
well i can't see them, but i can assure you i feel them.
those are the scars that hurt the most and im  sure some of those wounds are still open.

And i want to see the scars on your face.
those distinct markings that give you your features.
those marking that say you were not afraid to get up close and get hurt
for a reason you saw fit.

Will you show me all your scars?
I wont try to fix them, i promise.
because i know some of them you hold dear.
you can give me any scar you want though. i want a reminder of you.
i wont flinch, it won't even hurt.
Im used to it, so cut as deep as you want.

Darling, show me all your scars.
 Nov 2012 Brandon Webb
Lissa Heli
Maybe you just think too much.

You want to think.
You want to think that you mean something.
To them at least.
So you listen carefully to everything they say.
You swallow every word, every syllabel, every meaningless sound that escapes their lips.
Looking for something.
Something that might not even be there.
But that isn't going to stop you.
Oh no, it will only make you try harder, dig deeper.
You'll drive yourself insane, even cry over something that was never there.
You feel like a child
a child that wants a toy they see
so like that child you do everything to get it.
You see I am a child. And you my dear, are that toy I want.
you are the first colors a baby sees
the first tooth a child loses
the first love a person has
and the first nightmare I ever had.
And like all those things I will never forget you.
You have the beauty I try to capture but always fall short.
I stayed away for a while.
Hoping that these sentiments would leave and I could stop thinking.
I did.
But not for that long.
I came back eventually.
Like a dog you feed. It becomes a habit.
It was okay at first it was even fun.
but then it happened again
I started analyzing every cursed word you had to say.
I started looking for that something again.
I started looking for hope.
And now here I am thinking, thinking, thinking and thinking.
dreaming about love affairs that I havent had yet. Or even ever will.
playing out different scenarios in my head.
asking the always puzzling "who, what, when where, and why?
It's all a vicious cycle that you are in charge of.

But I don't know
Maybe You just think too much
Stars around a bright moon
The bite in the air tells me
Winters here..
The old friend I miss on summer days
The forget when I'm lacking sun rays
The pure white of the snow
Sings to me
I remember ...
The swing set
All the kids laughing
But I just swing to my heart beat
Back then forth
Cold wind splashing my face
Thinking thinking
Always thinking
Even as I grew older
I was stuck in my own mind
With simply my thoughts
Always thinking
Always analyzing
And though it is a gift
It is also a curse
Haunting me
Making me see things I rather not see
Making me believe
Does happiness make knowledge ?
One could never say
Because for something's
I'd rather not see
I'd rather not believe
I'd rather not know
Could darkness leave room to smile?
Or would I just be blinded and lost?
Or is the light the right place to be?
I can't know the answer!
I've spent night day
Day and night
Thinking , analyzing, searching!
For some piece of evidence
But none exist for my eyes too look upon
Heartless with a mind!
Or mindless with a heart?
I could never say
It quarrels  with me  
I get within
Let me into your dreams...

give me the key
to your inner most thoughts,

share with me
your deepest desires

that I may be one with you.
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