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grace-eccleson
grace-eccleson
English I'm 20, I have very red hair.
It doesn't matter does it No matter how hard you try the rain will still seep into your shoes on the cold Febuary mornings that are too short and so long No one cares the time it took to learn the tricks and how you sat there, staring at the wall and the back of a red head until your feet were numb and your eyes began to doubt If i had a child I would tell them to never go down the path I wanted It is too bumpy and full of old trees like the path that beauty looked down before choosing to ride. I would ask them to keep dreams small and feelings smaller and fill their big eyes with present not hope. But I would have lied, and in lying only woken to want to dream again I want so much. And it feels too big for one body to take the knocks that rein down. and its only the second one.
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Futile
It doesn't stop does it? The falling. If you never knew when it started. Or never accepted it. I guess then you wouldn't know when you'd hit the bottom I don't know how to stop it Reaching for his hand with all of me But knowing there is too much of him Or IT. Whatever it, is. Like watching a small child stumble and **** on their mothers arm. But I can't be his mother Lover. And seeing the slow motion lurch open in glorious high definition high spec The tug on the tendons and thunk of sockets ricochet and ripple uncontrolled. So uncontrolable. When did he trip? Why can't I tell? Or was the not telling the making as well? I refuse to watch the rabbit hole swallow If he goes down I will always follow.
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Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 6:26 PM UTC
Just a fall
Cursing the crap cluttered coats hanging in their rigor-mortis regiments only to fall to the floor again and again. I cannot speak to insufferable sirens but suffer alone instead Crying into the soft white bread and texting tormentedly Lost is everything insignificant that I desperately require Gone is the fear of Sugared words: 'you're fired' Leaving for more clustered, flustering days that fade to an unreachable haze I sit inside time, it taunts my heart flashing past in joy and in bordem refusing to part Decisions must be decided and lessons must be learnt as I shall push myself, but this should hurt more, More shoved into my core which trembles flabbily inches from the floor. Do not question me Do not inquire Just provide me with the life i desire. Forgive my childishness and ranting scrawl. But i'm tired, and I only see days before a fall
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
Clearance
The tea on my table sits drained and has done for some time. A cold ring lying in the china cradle. My back hurts. I feel the soft pink leather on my fingers and it reminds me of my time to count. I worry there is too little to fill so much. I ask for a refill Something soothing in ritual pouring filling my air with curls of steam Glance at the watch again. Suddenly I think of him. Hope he's doing ok. I write questions to pass time and stop the slight shaking i wish someone would close that door and hope someone will accept me.
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:29 PM UTC
Tea Shop
I want to show you the stars on my wall at night How my skin looks in the pale green light We'd lie there side by side And i'd show you those stars I want to show you Painswick fields in the sun Where me and my friend often run to hide away from the world And we'd hide in those fields I want to show you the house by the sea From a time before you and me I'd feel your hand in mine And we'd look out beyond I want to show you something most of all That makes all those places seem small I'd use all the words I can And I'd show you just how happy I am
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
I want to show you
Tell me... are you... am I part of the mad? Reading the thoughts that you had. Not so unlike mine well... lies. My thought process... So similar to your narrative. Will I too bend Under the stress? Gas So suitible for your end Not clogging or burning but watching the air bend drifting into emptiness... where you felt trapped. A fitting closure. Tell me Was it your mind that finished you? Your own self Drove your self-taking? Please I need to know if i'll be my end too.
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:21 PM UTC
Sylvia
What a strange sensation is adoration. Totally consumed by thoughts of him. taken, but given in utter frustration Myself, my love, infatuation. Consused, yet careless and yet so full of care! Wanting to weep, only if you're there. Wanting pain for the pleasure of consuming comfort. Wanting you Yet deliberately avoiding So I don't lose you. Knowing you understand but never can Hoping you know but never will
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:15 PM UTC
Consumed
For the message at one-thirty five: I would like to say thank you. For the smile that makes me glad to be alive: Thank you. For hearing my name being called with your voice For stupid gushings: 'I'm so glad i'm your choice!' For not cringing at my unashamed adoration For asking for nothing and understanding my education For making me happier than i've ever been. Rob, I would like to say Thank you.
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:11 PM UTC
Thank you
Take away the chains Smash the shackled gloom Tear away the tether Blow up the ****** room! Tell her to **** it **** the whole **** thing I don't care anymore Just make her head ring Shut up the piercing voice Banish Monotone tones Choke away the chiding tongue Stop her ceaseless moans But spare the shame of being seen in anger, spite or hurt Let her never know the pain It takes to change what's learnt Please never let this me be seen this self I will conceal I choose to never show the world I choose never to feel
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:08 PM UTC
After Argument Angst
Being bored in English Sleepy period 2 wondering what it would be like To wake up next to you
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC
Period 2 Pondering