shove your nerves down the drain so you can't feel a thing
shove roses into your body so you can feel beautiful sinking
dig inside the brain of someone, they're almost as complex
dig inside your skin, and notice how your body slowly infects
swallow the guilt, those memories won't go away nor will I
swallow the pride, the least you can do is grovel and cry
destroy the world, what makes us any different than you
destroy the thoughts, they're the ones making you blue
fall at an immeasurable pace, faster than the speed of light
fall for something worth dying for, and prepare for the fight
To my dear —,
I couldnt sleep last night or focus at all today because I feel it's actually over between us.
I'm not bitter or angry or disappointed anymore because I truly believe and know what we had was real.
Even if it was a long shot away.
With every odd
and with every statistic against us.
We still fought hard,
we fought gallantly.
— if in some distant place in the near or far future we get a chance to actually see each other with our new lives..
I know deep down inside
I will smile at you with the same
smile I always had when I did see you.
will continue to race and beat stronger with joy and I'll remember how we spent our days together, learning from each other,
learning about each other,
confiding our deepest secrets together
and growing in more and more in love.
Your love was my best love,
for it somehow awakened my
soul that was in a deep slumber
and you made me reach for more everyday.
Oh, I remember the first day,
the very first day..
You ignited a fire deep inside my heart that burned with true
to my mind and soul.
That's what you've given me
and that's what
I wish I could of gave back to you.
I wish you all the best now and in the future,
I hope you become everything I know you can be. You are one
I am glad I had the privilege to be in your life.
I'm sorry my passion and my inability to choose to settle drove us apart,
you will always be in my memories,
our days.. though short will be with me always.
I hope you find someone who makes you
that can and will give you everything you want. You deserve nothing but the very absolute best and I want you for me,
as my last favor to believe in what I've told you.
To carry on each day stronger than the last.
Even though I won't know where you are,
or what you're doing...
I'll always know you'll be okay.
I love you,
and I really wish I could say this again and have the next morning with you but here it goes:
I'll be seeing you,
I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places..
I'll be seeing you.
- Yours Now, Later and Always, Tony
there's something truly nice with writing long, poetic notes
it makes the baggage easier to carry and manage
keeps you from further damage
to what is already broken beneath
and underneath the beautiful surface
as a poet, i've experienced a lot
as a young girl, i grew up fast
my childhood didn't last
had to be an adult
before the appropriate age
had to feel heartbreak
and sadness all over the place
i could feel an ache in my bones
a sense of sadness when alone
cried my eyes out at home
and hid the pain away
to disguise my tears
hoping sadness would fade
wrote about love for hours
dreamt of you and my fears
destroyed myself to cope
pain changed my view on life
and the relationships i'd had
thoughts are like knives
stabbing me deeper
each and every time
i'm having trouble dictating the way
these emotions churn inside my body
like a sink drain
choking on the dish water
the languid, deep burning
in the hollow of my ribs
is creating a heavy fog
in my brain that makes
it hard to remember where
my loyalties lie
my lips tremble with your accusations
the bite of your stare makes me close up
i refuse to speak
not because the truth of my actions will hurt you
but that i'm terrified of the truth
of my heart.
posted by craigslist poster tired of religious hypocrites.
religious people (nm)
the good religious people in nm ARE NOT good as they tell themselves they are. They lie, use people, have no use for you if they don't want something, they talk about you behind your back and gain your confidence so they can make you the butt of jokes. Been there done that with so many religious people and know many others who have also. Don't try to convince me or anyone else that religious of Traverse are anything but manipulators and liars who only care about image and how it makes them look being called decent and nice. Religious people of nm can keep lying to themselves about being good, decent, honest and nice, TRUTH IS religious people in traverse are anything BUT decent, nice, honest and good.
You don't care what people think, you don't care what people think, you don't care about what people think? Why keep coming back to forum if that's true. Keep lying to yourself about who you are, nobody BUT you believes it.
I remembered the great days
Where everything felt right
So many words I needed to say
I promise the truth and no lies
The days where I spent with them
My friends in the basking sun
They accepted me for who I am
I remember jokes and lame punts
I remember smiles that were made
I remember the secrets we had shared
These people that I do really care
These people I call my best mates
Now all I know is we are farther apart
Sometimes I think back it makes me sad
All I know you are all inside my heart
These people I will always remember
The fun we all had when we are together
The memories I have will remain forever
Leather coat. Oxblood.
Denim jeans. Faded gray.
Rhinestone belt. Black.
Wrinkled button-up. Charcoal.
Silver necklace with a brass cross.
Canvas boots. Burgundy.
Three Moleskines. Brown.
Two pens. Red and blue.
Twenty seven dollar and thirty four cents.
One beaten down carrying case. Black.
The whole is greater than the sum
of its parts
but just barely
I might as well be a polystyrene box floating through the city
strumming heartsongs in subway dens
Oh. One glass pipe. Clear.
I forgot that, it belongs on the list.
Okay I didn’t forget it.
I lie, sue me.
or low is just a part of me though
and some people think it’s all of me.
Some people look at me like
I don’t have a home, which makes me angry,
not because they’re wrong,
but because they always look disgusted
with I think they should look concerned.
My guitar case likes to change itself from time to time.
Sometimes it’s with the seasons
and sometimes it’s with the sun,
but generally its with the sparks in my head
and how it reflects them.
I’ll wake up round 6
underneath the Williamsburg brudge
with warm bacon in my nostrils,
cold sun on my skin,
and my case will show me the WD
on it’s back
and tell me it means “Wonderful Day.”
On snowy Sundays in Battery Park
it’ll flop down on a quiet curb
and whine, “Warmth Dammit.”
I’ll amble up Prince Street through the holidays
looking for breathing buildings.
He’ll jump from my right shoulder to my left
and whisper, “Where’s Dad?”
He goes back to my right shoulder.
I like to laugh when I walk past Starbucks,
any old Starbucks,
because everybody in there is from Seattle
and they came all this way for a cup of coffee.
I came all that way too,
but I don’t think it was for a cup of coffee.
I lived with a girl named Cat
or a girl who had a cat
in an old walk up across from a Quizno’s.
Cat gave me coke.
not the cat.
I remember she
had an ivy green front door
because I’d stay up and stare out the peephole
watching people come home late.
The city shifts the winds at night to serve its needs
like sweeping streets or twisting smoke
or swishing the curtains of softly sweating lovers
who feel like this city is theirs alone.
I guess the gears and cogs
paid me no notice tonight because I wake up with numb toes.
I hop over my slate schooner so it shelters me again.
I move to hit snooze on nature’s alarm clock
but pause to put on the silver man’s red tie
to keep me warm.
On my way to brunch pizza
I trip on an old bottle and face slap the curb
where I am greeted by a lost Abraham Lincoln
who is surprisingly made of paper and not copper.
So that does it.
New strings and the train to take me there.
I hop down the stairs to the tunnels,
for once a traveler instead of a performer.
Dipped in sunshine I start to laugh,
but Case gets carried away and trips
into the little puddle beneath me.
He shouts, “Woman down!”
Which makes me confused instead of shocked
as she is crushed by the Q train
because I thought she was a man.
I don’t get on the train.
It means wasting half of honest Abe,
but I can’t be inside my friend’s murderer.
I am now briefly rich
but permanently poor having lost my way
to talk to the world.
That $30 goes to smoke instead of strings
and I try to think of what Case might say
as I plunge into the Kennedy reservoir,
soaking until I become and instrument.
A xylophone of bones,
I clatter the tune to Beatles songs
as I shiver under some willow tree.
The city shifts its cogs and gears,
and in the breeze, all I can hear is some shitty voice shouting
Strawberry Fields Forever.
“Winter damns,” is what she would say
because it sounds wise and I would laugh,
because like all good advice,
it came too late to be used.
everyday my eyes go fluttering,
here and there, everywhere,
every hour seems like a year,
waiting for a person in despair,
not a person I would love,
but someone I long to see,
every minute of the day,
I may sound confusing,
but pay attention,
'cause I do.
Attentively watch, await,long,
for that one envelope,
inside which would be a page,
a white but unblank paper,
with words and exclaimations
About your explainations,
and your whereabout,
as I wait for that person
To bring me a letter from my beloved,
my dear love, my craving,
my sole purpose of living,
I convince myself by saying,
the post man must be lost!
or perhaps just lazy and late,
for he never comes,
and makes me wait in vain,
Sometimes I loose hope,
the only thing I've got,
but recall your face,
and remake my mind,
saying, maybe times are rough,
reason why you can't write to me,
perhaps just the work
that keeps you busy all day,
but yes I do wish you could just take time out,
to write three words on a card,
i love you.
send it to me,end my vacant wait..
It's been five years now,
you never wrote or even called,
ah! yes I received a telegram today,
Right now I opened it,
and as I opened it,
tears kissed my cheeks,
of happines that you did care!
but soon my tears of joy
turned into blood sobs,
when I read in the letter that you were gone,
passed away five years ago,
while saving someone at war,
sorrow could not leave my side
knowing it was all I had,
and my heart wept,
my eyes went numb,
at the letters on that little note,
but at the end were the three words
I had longed to hear,rather see,
"he loved you."
Was all I could bear to see,
my brain stopped working,
my limbs went void,
now, I still don't know why,
I wait for you..
I'm old now you know?
I wish you could see me,
wrinkled and stupid,
for I still wait for that day,
when I would get to see you at last,
with a letter saying those three little words,
"come with me"
tonight and forever,
we would make up for lost time,
and spend once more our lives,
but for now my longing is still not over,
for I still wait for the postman,
behind my window,
and I need no doors or even locks,
as my gaze still remains fixed on my post box..
The love that I have for you
Makes my heart ache
My body shake
And my bones break
The happiness I have because of you
Makes the sun shine
The songs rhyme
The wounds bind
The sadness I have
Because I miss you
Makes me feel like
I'm slowly dying
My mouth always