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littledray
littledray
I wish you could see how beautiful you are when you breath in and out when you sleep. I hold my breath... in fear that I'll lose you while you dream. And I'll never get the chance to tell you that I you are the best thing thats happened to me.
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Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
Breath in...breath out...
I shall write you a letter every day of my life Telling you one more thing that I love about you So if I shall leave this planet before you It’ll be in these letters that our love will live on And you’ll remember how much I love you even when I’m gone.
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
A Letter A Day
We’ve found ourselves Cradled in the arms of time As it rocks us to the sleep But for every second that ticks we cannot hear We are lost in the moments of unrestrained laughter And bouts of sadness that stain our pain strucken faces We’ll find ourselves wanting to escape the hold of time To not hear it sing To not fall asleep when the time comes… For life is too precious to let go of without a fight.
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Rock-A-Bye Time
I do like him and that’s a fact. I like who he is and his looks are simply an additional thing that can be appreciated. He is kind and I like that. I like the way he walks, and talks, and does everything. His eyes. Holy moly. His eyes. I hate to be cliche and all, but sometimes that’s what the world needs to hear about, those utterly cliche moments. To be completely honest I’ve liked him since the moment I met him; the very moment I saw him. There was something about him that entranced me. I don’t know what that thing was, but it has haunted me. Now we are friends, but something deep down in me has always been drawn to him. I enjoy seeing him…when I do. I wish I could see him more. Truthfully though I denied my gut feeling about him because I thought it was too soon for me to start liking someone. I buried what I felt and I settled for simple friendship, but every time I speak to him or honestly got the chance to look into his beautifully blue eyes (oh that sounds so ooey gooey and girly, but I can’t help it!) I am reminded of that first feeling I got when I met him. I don’t know of a word that describes exactly what I felt, but hopefully someday I’ll come across it or make one. For now I’ll have to compensate by using way too many short and unspecific words that fail terribly. I like him. I even remember the moment when it was cemented into my being (the fact that I liked him). We were talking about words and I told him my new favorite word that I had just figured out existed, psithurism. He shard his with me, sonder. He pulled a youtube video up explaining, in black and white, what sonder is. It’s beautiful. The fact that that it is his favorite word is beautiful. There was something special in that moment and it hit me. I just can’t. I can’t believe I was waiting my whole entire life for that moment. And now it is today and I haven’t done anything about it. About him and me. And I hate that. I hate that I’m not doing anything about it. I want to hear him talk all hours of the day and give him a hug just because I can. I want to curl up next to him on a couch and listen to him tell me how his day was. I want my hand to be the hand he wants to hold when his own has no where to rest. I want the chance to look into those blue eyes every day of my life. I want to know all of his favorite things. Sermonia (n), that’s the word, at least that’s what the feeling would sound like if I made it a one. Maybe someday I’ll admit to him that it is in fact my most favorite word. Psithurism, is great and all, but it fails in comparison to that feeling you get when you know you’ve met someone special.
0
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Sermonia....That Is What I Felt
I do like him and that’s a fact. I like who he is and his looks are simply an additional thing that can be appreciated. He is kind and I like that. I like the way he walks, and talks, and does everything. His eyes. Holy moly. His eyes. I hate to be cliche and all, but sometimes that’s what the world needs to hear about, those utterly cliche moments. To be completely honest I’ve liked him since the moment I met him; the very moment I saw him. There was something about him that entranced me. I don’t know what that thing was, but it has haunted me. Now we are friends, but something deep down in me has always been drawn to him. I enjoy seeing him…when I do. I wish I could see him more. Truthfully though I denied my gut feeling about him because I thought it was too soon for me to start liking someone. I buried what I felt and I settled for simple friendship, but every time I speak to him or honestly got the chance to look into his beautifully blue eyes (oh that sounds so ooey gooey and girly, but I can’t help it!) I am reminded of that first feeling I got when I met him. I don’t know of a word that describes exactly what I felt, but hopefully someday I’ll come across it or make one. For now I’ll have to compensate by using way too many short and unspecific words that fail terribly. I like him. I even remember the moment when it was cemented into my being (the fact that I liked him). We were talking about words and I told him my new favorite word that I had just figured out existed, psithurism. He shard his with me, sonder. He pulled a youtube video up explaining, in black and white, what sonder is. It’s beautiful. The fact that that it is his favorite word is beautiful. There was something special in that moment and it hit me. I just can’t. I can’t believe I was waiting my whole entire life for that moment. And now it is today and I haven’t done anything about it. About him and me. And I hate that. I hate that I’m not doing anything about it. I want to hear him talk all hours of the day and give him a hug just because I can. I want to curl up next to him on a couch and listen to him tell me how his day was. I want my hand to be the hand he wants to hold when his own has no where to rest. I want the chance to look into those blue eyes every day of my life. I want to know all of his favorite things. Sermonia (n), that’s the word, at least that’s what the feeling would sound like if I made it a one. Maybe someday I’ll admit to him that it is in fact my most favorite word. Psithurism, is great and all, but it fails in comparison to that feeling you get when you know you’ve met someone special.
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Last night I crawled my way to the ocean I felt the waves consume me whole The ice cold, salty waves Burned my open wounds The wounds that you gave me They burned as if they were on fire I was on fire in the ocean The reds, oranges, and yellows of my awakened soul illuminated the water around me The amount of light was almost too much too handle, but then I remembered. This fire around me is too much for the ocean to handle The wounds you gave me are too much for the ocean to handle! The ocean is immense and powerful, but what you did to me was beyond the healing powers of the ocean. The ocean causes tsunamis and drowns unsuspecting individuals, But the ocean could not put the fire out. It could not save me. For the wounds you gave me were more than skin deep They were imbedded in my mind, in my being, in my soul. The ocean only knows how to destroy things on the surface. It could not fix what you did. That night I crawled out of the ocean Still left with my pain Still left with myself That night I...
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
That Night I...