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elliott-crass
American
I don't keep a four leaf clover No rabbits foot in my pocket Ain't never dropped a coin in a well more over Yeah I once held onto a horse shoe just in case Though it Never did me any good But that night i fell in love I saw you in your lace Right then I was close to giving up Because the only trouble was I knew I'd be gone by the time the sun come up While I tried to and wondered how to stay I didn't sleep much that night Trouble is and always was, had to be on my way These last hundreds of miles I rode lost As I saw you playing games on my soul never mind my heart Thought If I could I would come back at all costs But my passing light in night I'm ****** to move along Just in hopes I will not ruin something that could be right Months of long days and hours I've worked just to move on But my girl in lace, please know I never did I never moved on
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC
The last night spent wandering
"You're killing yourself" she cried as if watching him wrench open another bottle was as painful as if he had taken that same grip around her own throat. And he, as he always did, kept moving as though he hadn't heard anything, silently and solemnly, but felt those words dragging across his heart like a fork across an empty plate. He knew it was true. All the same he didn't care. He knew what death was. Tasted the emptiness before and it felt natural. Her pain quickly turned into anger and his... Just one more empty plate that he filled with cigarette ash to attempt to making it seem full. As kept as he was he felt like a stray dog, knowing that he belonged to someone but waded through tall buildings and empty ally ways trying to find some corner to hold up in. While he wasted his breathe on smoke and gut stained from drowning the inability to cope with things he would never speak of, she lay in bed clinging to the memories of the best parts of him. She remembered the kind hearted man that she fell for. Back then he was a mystery, part of the reason she loved him in the first place. Then with a soft heart and hard hands he pulled her close and silently, as he was, seemed to vow to never let go. Oaths are made by blood and in blood they can be broken. So it came quickly and startling when his blood was poisoned by the bottle. She could not figure out when things went wrong. So did he. In his solitude he tried to justify his willingness to forfeit life and love. In a brief moment of transparency through the self abuse he remembered.... She was no longer there. The moment when she left played through his mind on a loop. He could hear the sobs and the careful words picked as to not send him over the edge. He remembered how empty the room felt without her clothes sprawled across the bedroom floor like a testament to how freeing passion is. He prayed to a god he knew didn't exist apologetically saying, "if I had one more chance to do it all again..." Fate and destiny aside, some souls are simply lost as was he.
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
Just another story
"You're killing yourself" she cried as if watching him wrench open another bottle was as painful as if he had taken that same grip around her own throat. And he, as he always did, kept moving as though he hadn't heard anything, silently and solemnly, but felt those words dragging across his heart like a fork across an empty plate. He knew it was true. All the same he didn't care. He knew what death was. Tasted the emptiness before and it felt natural. Her pain quickly turned into anger and his... Just one more empty plate that he filled with cigarette ash to attempt to making it seem full. As kept as he was he felt like a stray dog, knowing that he belonged to someone but waded through tall buildings and empty ally ways trying to find some corner to hold up in. While he wasted his breathe on smoke and gut stained from drowning the inability to cope with things he would never speak of, she lay in bed clinging to the memories of the best parts of him. She remembered the kind hearted man that she fell for. Back then he was a mystery, part of the reason she loved him in the first place. Then with a soft heart and hard hands he pulled her close and silently, as he was, seemed to vow to never let go. Oaths are made by blood and in blood they can be broken. So it came quickly and startling when his blood was poisoned by the bottle. She could not figure out when things went wrong. So did he. In his solitude he tried to justify his willingness to forfeit life and love. In a brief moment of transparency through the self abuse he remembered.... She was no longer there. The moment when she left played through his mind on a loop. He could hear the sobs and the careful words picked as to not send him over the edge. He remembered how empty the room felt without her clothes sprawled across the bedroom floor like a testament to how freeing passion is. He prayed to a god he knew didn't exist apologetically saying, "if I had one more chance to do it all again..." Fate and destiny aside, some souls are simply lost as was he.
Continue reading...
1
If I learned anything from the first time I loved I love you means I'm sorry So I love you for all the promises I ever broke I love you for the way you broke my heart I love you for giving up I love you for letting you down when I loved you last and had to walk away
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
I Love You Means I'm Sorry
Separation Let go again Got far too close Break it off again Lost yourself Just be alone again Loneliness creeps Wash it down again What happened last night It's better not to know Busted lip and head split open Last nights over Let's do it all again
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Last Punk Song
After it all stopped When the lights stopped flickering The air turned cold The tanks ran dry Nothing changed Carry those stones to graves Will to will For another second Yea you lose a little feeling along the way. Old wounds lose their sting.  The nasty **** you never thought yourself capable of turns to reflex. What comes natural is a sin in your past eyes. But you hold on to the best version of humanity you know.
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
It will never be the same
This is my blank page. I look at it and think I'm glad I have nothing bad to say. Then there was you. Not so clean anymore.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
I miss the silence
Howl An immense cry A cage Instinct Bite and claw A need to be free Inside you Scratches at the door Pacing back and forth Fur raised Teeth shown Hold me fast or let me go Never lie down with a wolf
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Lost from the pack
It might be strange that I feel most on two wheels. The same wheels I might die on. What's strange is it doesn't scare me. I've had a taste of what life on a paved back means. Knowing I could lose it, that is everything I carry on my back and my life. That is freedom. Carried by spokes and throttle my only care is where do I fill my next tank. Meeting faces I could fall in love with, but morning comes and I know I have to leave.... I just have to leave. There's miles I haven't ridden and pasts I haven't rid myself of. It's always that next town, the what's to come, and the thought of someday I might find that town and that one I can't ride away from.
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
There's ony one rode out of here
I'm sorry. Almost embarrassing that everytime I have something to say is some where near 4 am. This time is just sober can't sleep. It's not a messed up introspective, once the bolts have loosened up the oil will leak, kind of thoughts. And I've had a lot of leaks lately. I feel a lot. And I become a stranger even to myself. I don't reach far incase I might need my hands to hold it all together. So I let go of of everything I had before, just to try to plug the wholes. I might struggle more than I let myself see. I see that now. It's hard to see myself where I am because I was there before. Left someone, felt so terrible it stained. Fell into anything that didn't let you feel or atleast made it a little less memorable to feel. Rode that emptiness until it broke me. And walked away. Made something of nothing, moved my hands, created and provided, I built myself again. Then I met another. She breathed into the self I had rebuilt. Showed me how to move again. But each wave always breaks and leaves it all in a scatter. Felt so bad it stained. Trying to clean it up.
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
A bikers letter to the love left behind
What I deserve I'll never really know Always seemed like less than I got Until it turned You left me with no choice These are the things I wish I could have said You mean more than a moment of freedom Than peace of mind and a good nights sleep. I never wanted a way out I wanted you more than my own right to live More than the choice to find a better life Never wanted to walk away But you went and ****** it all up And my feet are well ahead of my heart I don't know if it will ever catch up If ignorance is bliss then I wish I had never met you But I'd rather suffer through your smile than take it away It's funny how meant to be could be so wrong
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
Never had a chance