I can't imagine anyone else feels as deeply as I do
Because if they did there would be a lot less people still living
I cannot believe that everyone has the strength to live with the wisdom of gods long dead and rotting
But you do. Don't, you?
You and your brave, broken spirit
You know what its like to be swept away as the tide of your mind rolled in...
Carrying all the fear and pain you tried to wash away
Bringing all those broken message-bottles back
Scrubbing your footprints from the sand
Stealing the last bit of steadiness you had left
You with lungs made to breath saltwater
(No matter how much it hurts)
You and your strong body built to carry you to calmer waters
(Even if you may falter take solace in your shivers)
You with brilliant hands forming life from nothing
(So take to your paperclaypencilsong)
For we are the ones with fire itching in the back of our throats with hands made for setting fire to the world
(With you light the match with passion or rage?)
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 7:00 PM UTC
I think everyone has some
small
secret notebook
Filled to bursting with every sense of heaven
that only they can feel......
Because my book is filled with rain on cars roofs and great thunderstorms
and birds singing on the first day of spring as cool air blows through open windows,
and even just the feeling of Saturday churches with their great stained glass, even if god left me a long time ago
Because every page in my book is tinged with an empty sort of melancholy that stems from being forgotten
But I know for certain my moms is full of ocean waves battering the shore, because she knows how it feel to rage slowly like a river carving a canyon
Yet my brothers is full of the way coyotes howl when planes fly overhead because he aches with a longing far past what was expected of him
But my little sister is a grand fair ground full of light and laughter because she is the softness of cotton candy melting in the mouth of Someone who hasn't had to grow thick skin
And I think my father used to be a bit like all of us once, the light the laughter the ache to be someone
But somewhere along the way of being beaten into someone he never wanted to be his pages grew tinged with regret that ate away at the book like flames eating away at houses
And I think...
the greatest way to ruin the heaven of the world around you
is to not take solace in your daughters genius
or to recognize the dreams of your son,
to never kiss the raging sea of your lover
and to never dance under Circus lights with your little one
For I would rather wander aimless through the desert with only broken bottles and night breezes to my name that live with the regret of not having lived at all
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|I promised myself to live better than you
Mar 14, 2020
Mar 14, 2020 at 4:22 PM UTC
The Toltecs say that you have forgiven
When you no longer flinch
At the sight of your face
or the sound of your voice
How long will it be before I stop looking for you where we used to sit
Or skipping every song we sang together in darkening parking lots
How long must I wait to be free of you?
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.............................I hate you
..............................................You hurt me
.......................................And didn’t give enough of a **** to notice
I left you.......................................................................................
And you didn’t care enough to ask either of us why.
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It gets a little easier to see you
But the scars never really left either of us I think
If you got hurt at all that is
You took all the joy from me and gave it to someone else
Every-time I was with you it was so you could gain the attention of someone else
I cannot fathom the idea that you can love anyone but yourself
I dodged an entire ocean when I realized you intended to drown me
Rather than keep me afloat in your arms
Thanks to you I’m slowly learning not to be bitter
And that anger only warms you until its time to go swimming
and wash all the misery away
I told you I loved you and hoped that we could be alright like we were before I realized what you’d stolen from me
I’ll never be so careless with those words again.
I won’t ever thank you for making me stronger
We don’t praise death for giving us something to inspire us to live
| Remember that when you see the ghost me in the passenger seat
Mar 14, 2020
Mar 14, 2020 at 3:57 PM UTC