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grace-l
American a student who writes poems in between classes, but mostly during classes... while being productive, but mostly while procrastinating
No matter how much you plan And try to cope with the distance, And months, and time differences No matter how many ways you Establish modes of communication Just to have daily conversations The sticks will fall And land where they land Indifferent to your plans After awhile you will fall And land where you land Regardless of those previous plans
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Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 7:19 AM UTC
04/04/2012
after three years side by side fate displaced us, far and wide but at that point, i had no choice you were on the opposite coast and only distance could make my heart hurt the most after six months apart it was harder with a three hour head start but at that point, i was already exhaustively engrossed and only time could make my heart hurt the most after four more months passed your presence was vanishing fast and at that point, it began to feel like you were a ghost. and only our busy lives could make my heart hurt the most before one more word had been uttered my mind became completely cluttered and at that point, my heartbreak was instantly diagnosed and you were the one to make my heart hurt the most even through distance, time, and life thinking it was worth the strife at all points, i tried to never give up you were my pillar and post and i was the one who loved you the most
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Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 2:26 PM UTC
the most
you've convinced yourself that the difference between it was supposed to be me and it is me is so small that it barely plays a role in your everyday life when in actuality, it bites at your every waking sleeping dreaming thought, gnawing at your incompetencies displaced by your own inability to cope with your failures.
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Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
facing reality
before the deadline passes, and it's too late what makes ME the ideal candidate? must orchestrate a thousand word song conveying my skills and awards that make me strong i assemble my troops arrange my activities, my groups compose my unparalleled traits so beautifully it narrates but with every question i've read listing every team i've lead with every box i fill in about things i seek thrill in the less i want this position the less impressive my ammunition the shots i fire are empty shells aimed at anyone who'll hire but what i'd really rather do than fill out forms for God knows who is write a line of poetry that describes my apathy perfectly
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Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 8:50 PM UTC
last, first, middle initial
quantity the numerical elements lacking order like chaos in a sea of red so vivid and uniform the parade of bishops look like a stream of hot lava pouring their way down the mountainside to the pope or perhaps a bird delivering its message on wings so sharp, jagged cutting through the blue sky essential its message fundamental to the core of the earth, of the heavens without it, nothing
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Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 9:28 PM UTC
cardinal
i am a fire escape a secondhand city balcony a clandestine mine forgotten of its purpose left to be discovered with the next explosion
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Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 12:00 PM UTC
ny