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jaia-wilbour
jaia-wilbour
I want to be heard, like everyone else.
We drift in the autumn winds, play with hair's curls, dance in circles with the leaves in the street, lift the wings of the circus... There's beauty in the darkness of simplicity, intensity in the highlights of the silver moon, and the stars smile down on you all, knowingly, we're good friends. You may feel lost, even here in our arms, yet we cradle you so lovingly. And now that you hear us, sing us a song. Now that you hear us, lift our words into the air to where they belong~
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
What is Today's Atmosphere Made of? (Beautiful Dead)
Try as we might things never seem to go as planned, and what I've come to realize is the universe has its own plans. See, things have a funny way of working themselves out, if you let them.
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
Things Never Go As Planned
You took a sip of me and spit me out saying you didn't like the taste, but maybe if you'd have swallowed, let me slip into you're stomach and absorbed me, all of me, and felt me running through your veins you would've liked the way I'd make you feel.
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
A Sip of Me
And suddenly it was spring and it would only rain at night when you were tucked into bed with a kiss from your mother and a whisper that everything would be ok. But  the whisper got lost in the sound of thunder, and I was afraid that it wouldn't stop raining but when I forced myself awake there shone the sun through the blinds of my only window and suddenly it was spring
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
Suddenly It Was Spring
Slip through delicate fingers like running water running away from everything that you know.
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Running Water
We’re told we’re made of stardust, and maybe it’s true, but I’ve looked under my skin and seen nothing there that’s inexplicable. We are, undeniably, human. And yet we have an insatiable desire to be so much more. More than blood, and bone, and the imprints of our mothers and fathers, but in wanting this we become something more. We are like art the way our hearts pump blood through our veins without anyone showing them how. The way we turn our thoughts into songs, poems, creating a smile, or bringing forth tears, just by the words that dance off our tongues. The way we love, uncontrollably and unconditionally and it’s intricate and simple all at the same time and we don’t need to be made of stardust for we are, undeniably, remarkably, human.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
Human