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daniel-lockerbie
29/M http://www.lulu.com/shop/daniel-lockerbie/heartrends/paperback/product-22399342.html
It's funny how when we are young we believe we can do anything. Our youth has lied to us, making us think that we will last forever. One day we wake up and realize that the bed we lie in has become our new grave. We thought we had so many days, so much time to waste, and then one day we find that time has drifted away like the air between our fingers.
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Oct 23, 2022
Oct 23, 2022 at 12:11 PM UTC
Finite
There's a certain sense of knowing in the way you look at me, a sense of trust, of understanding, unlike any seen before. You threw all of your doubts and fears into the ocean, watching them drift away, further and further out, never to be seen again. I grabbed your hand and stepped forward into the unknown, you were like a radiating sunbeam that refused to dim. Yet at the same time, you burned a hole right through my chest cavity, exposing all the darkest places which were hidden away, the rooms that I had locked and swallowed the keys to. I let your fingers work as you mended the broken pieces and tossed away all the clutter of the past, gathering dust in the corner, yet taking up so much space. After you were finished you looked at me again with a gaze that had not changed from before and I knew that you were to be mine forever.
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 3:49 PM UTC
Yellow
I'm never enough in my own head, could you please tell me that I matter instead?
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Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 2:00 PM UTC
Enough
There is a certain state of desperation You have kept me in, it draws me back to You every time I misplace my footing. You whisper to me to lift my weary head out of the chasm and stare into Your light. I inhale a breath and contemplate the voice that beckons me, it is so different from the others, the ones that tear at the seams of my mending heart and force the wound open again, crimson with the bleeding, festering. I cry out to You as the light begins to fade once more, pleading for the gauze that will numb the pain I have willingly brought myself back into again. You are my surgeon, stitch me back together.
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Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
Sutures
The cool air ushers in the first instances of the approaching season. And yet I only shudder at the thought of you. As I walk amongst the leaves a gust of wind, intuition, brings the stain of your memory to my mind. Perhaps it was just your ghost I felt move through me like electricity only to exit as quickly as you first appeared. And yet it still remained a painful reminder of the way in which you broke me.
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
Ghost
Every time I held you was like holding broken glass; you just never saw the way I was bleeding.
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC
For No One
I have always felt lost in this life, but I felt a little less lost with you. I held your hand in mine like a compass, you were my true north.
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Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 10:06 PM UTC
Wish You Were Here
This black hole swallows me, ripping apart the last fragments of light. I wonder when I will collapse like a dying star and fade away into oblivion. If you could see me now, in this current state of being, would your feelings for me change? Would you welcome me back into your arms and be willing to start again?
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Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
Supernova
If a writer falls in love with you, bear this in mind: they will find libraries in your smile, and endless pages within the color of your eyes. They will spend sleepless nights searching for better synonyms and metaphors with which to describe you. They will carefully choose their words, turn you into beautiful art, and write of how the heart that beats inside your chest synchronizes perfectly with their own. Whether you know it or not, you will be running marathons in their mind, you will build a house inside their thoughts to live in, and you will drive poetry out of them with one minuscule glance.
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Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 6:56 PM UTC
Warning
When you broke my heart, all of the pieces fell upon paper, forming crooked lines and I called it poetry.
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Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 6:55 PM UTC
Thank You