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jillian-jones
20/F/America I tried.
the rain it howls so loud the thunder it crashes. caught in this constant storm with no way out I am so afraid. But then there You are. Like a beacon in the darkness. You welcome me in with open arms and hold me tight. The storm is still there But now I have a rain coat. -You.j.j
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Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC
You
Let’s make out in an art gallery. Maybe the more I fall into you and the more you fall into me, We will become a work of art and fade into the background. No one would notice the two lovers for all they see is art. Let’s make out in an art gallery and become our own renaissance painting. -let's be the art j.j
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Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
Let's be the art.
Just because you do not find the beauty in words and poems, in drawings and paintings, in colors, in the waves of the grass or the bark of a tree, does not mean that I should not too. I should not be out-casted for finding beauty in things that you do not. My opinions do not change your view, Why should yours change mine? maybe, for once, take the leap, take the chance in finding beauty in something other than what you think is normal. Not until you take that chance can you tell me that my views are wrong. -the ballet of a dreamer j.j
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
the ballet of a dreamer
I sit here, alone, in my own head thinking of someone, of anyone, just to pretend to not be alone. -only alone j.j
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Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 11:47 PM UTC
only alone.
The leaky pipes that keeps me up at night The constant snore The distant cough And the leaky pipe that keeps me up at night The wind whispers The vicious growl And the leaky pipes that keeps me up at night. -tossing and turning j.j. The Moon, she laughs Because Even she knows The **** pipes will never be fixed. -untitled j.j
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Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC
oh, the pipes.
In the eyes of a dreamer, a beauty will behold. -untitled j.j
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Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
untitled.
Nothing confuses me more than the survival of the butterfly. They fly around with their beautiful colors, so easy for a predator to see. There delicate wings, one rip and they are grounded. They have no teeth, no claws to defend themselves. So tell me, how did they make it? How have they survived this long being so, vulnerable? I think ,through butterflies, God is showing us that it is okay to be delicate. You can survive being vulnerable. We do not have to always be hard and strong to make it in the world. We can be soft. We can be human. -to be a like butterfly j.j
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
to be like a butterfly