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katie-nelson
American
Admit it. Scream it. Howl it to the ******* moon. Your heart is soft                   and so is mine and oh how if ******* hurts sometimes.
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Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
who speaks
my body, close to yours I heard you start to cry and so I came
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Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 1:11 PM UTC
who saved who
as silly little thoughts tumble round my head, every so often, I tear my mind away from myself and as I ponder life's convoluted web, I am drawn to your strand, and glad that it's still humming, if just gently so it might be the longest shot there ever was, but as I sort through my feelings, as I untangle the knots, I hope you know I am thinking of you. I hope you hear my love, through the silence and the noise. I hope you know who I am and remember who you are.
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Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
though you might not remember, I hope you don't forget
I walked a thousand miles, I traveled a thousand years, and when I looked down at my feet, I found them right back here
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
This has been your poem all along.
you and i are different, so perfectly the same you light my world on fire and then you make it rain
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
This sounds like nonsense, but I think it's how I feel
slow dancing in a sunny room on a empty day a bright moment in a bleak outlook      removed from the channel's purposeful rush anchored to the banks, we are free spinning as life flows by the room is empty, as is the day, but we fill both with the features of our faces                                                                                   and the echoes of our laughter we spin on our heels, we spin on the moment and it is gone we break apart and leave the room the sun stays behind to warm the bed
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
not far from the garden
hum drum, hum drum, the voices and the noise, hum drum, hum drum, the worries and the crowds, hum drum hum drum, monotony and routine hum drum hum drum dulling my senses hum drum humdrum making me placid humdrum humdrum weakens my voice humdrumhumdrum who is that? it is me. i am you. but how did you come to be so! but surely you know; don't you remember yesterday? that it happened, but little more than that.
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 10:58 PM UTC
stop ******* adults
I parceled out my affection in tiny little bits and though the rate at which I gave, was surely not the rate at which you wanted to take your hands stayed waiting, for my lonely contributions and you gathered them together and took them to a quiet place where they could come to know each other, as I have come to know you, my love
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
learning to love the lemon tree
I'm writing this in the middle of the night, when there's nothing to do but sleep, but I'm not ready to forget about the world, wandering through dreams that aren't mine to keep and now I lay here, thinking about passion, and how we sometimes put it in a droor, to make way for practicality, until one day, we think of it no more dreams have a way of wilting, when they are left to collect dust. they slowly ferment in regret, they suffer from distrust. so take these words with you, in those moments of doubt, when you find yourself in need of a steady hand, when people tell you to buy a suit, when they tell you to quit the band though a small victory it might have been, you've tasted greatness so far, even if it was in a dimly lit room, in some crummy little bar don't write off your dreams, don't discount your success because the magic was there, even if the crowds were not I've said it before, and I'll say it again, your music is making the world a better place:   reminding me of the beauty,   making me forgot about the haste so do yourself a favor, do a kindness to the world, stick it out and see what happens, when your waking dreams unfurl
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Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
A poem for Ally: no homo...just kidding, yes **** but not for you.
as the howling poets gather on the mount, to court the darkness, in the company of the moon I press my cheek to yours                                               to forget what is distant,                                                                                           to show me what is real which is only the night, and possibly the stars but in a patch of silence,       the whisper of a tree            escapes its seedling shell                    and rises with the sun
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Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 1:45 PM UTC
sleepless sunrise