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lluvia-de-abril
lluvia-de-abril
Writing life as I go...words are scarce. So much we will not control. Live, live, live. The story writes itself and life, well life becomes poetry.
Live for the truth no matter where it takes you. Share it with me. **** me with it, let me die in it. I will always be grateful my truthful friend my sibling in truth. Let me not be buried alive under the weight of beautiful lies. You know me I like to breathe Don’t spare me the pain in the lungs brings hope - I live. I know you you’ll help me fight for the truth no matter where it takes me. I will always be grateful, but tell me the truth, just the truth: Am I breathing? My chest feels heavy.
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Dec 13, 2024
Dec 13, 2024 at 3:31 PM UTC
The Truth
*I am sorry darling            our paths part here a bell's loud toll               encourages pace               it sets me free It's been a long day        the suns set                        finally               my eyes can rest                 in light embraced hold on to my fragments without lament                for the night is generous                       quieting the rain I am sorry darling           we must part ways remember eternally:                     you are part of me            it's til I see you                     that goodnight I bid my heart stays whole and with you remains*
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Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
good night, I bid
What heart has ever not been broken, what soul has never sought and lost itself in pain? And yet, to hold your broken heart and try to heal it I’d pawn my soul and wander quite insane I know my steps could circle without purpose one hundred years on earth and sky in vain but I am the product of a chip upon my shoulder; it boldly tells me that I am the one your heart and soul could save
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Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Insane, unashamed
*After you left                          I moved to a bigger house as if I needed more space for my thoughts of you as if I had the strength to remember you I measured the size of each room and touched every corner                 of that tremendous place                 trying to guess how many moments                 how many of our early mornings                                                        in embrace                                                        it would take                       to repel the shadows of emptiness                       to turn the color and shade of my contempt I opened each window and closed my eyes, shutting out the                 wailing of a so tired heart                 holding the silence                                               in all its weight*
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Thoughts of you
*It is so easy to fall apart within your hands and there I leave my soul unfolded                             uncontrolled to its side, I place the weight of dreams imposed                     upon the heart hoping you can shape them make sense of them I leave half of all the restlessness that makes me brave enough to hold you close and then let go*
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
So easy
*You are standing there in that five o’clock shadow words escape me Blame that look on your face everything you’ve said and those eyes, those eyes that penetrate fiercely I hear your steps cross the room unhurriedly rapture comes in your place bare and impatient I am motionless wanting to devour the space between bodies to let tremble and crave take over your gift and consume your power Blood rushes your hands fall heavy as the weight of your body spoil me in your richness and then be still for me let me hold you let me hold you for hours in the strength of a gentle, but intolerant straddle*
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
let me hold you
A thought indecent claims to know the you that I miss most the you I've not yet met and long for prematurely I miss your skin a day too soon a kiss before its taste and so I catch myself falling inertly in thought consumed veins first waiting, waiting waiting for time to bloom the day when untouched skin and unkissed lips take form and shape of all indecent thought exposed lived amidst the tender sounds of rustling sheets in the warmth and taste of strangers known
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Of indecent thoughts
*I want to be                  your happy poem     to write myself                              into your eyes your lips, your shoulder blades to fall into your soul                          and leap from there into that heart within your heart not known to you just yet I want to be                     the verse that rings as true         as the promise of your gaze late in the day, an uncontemplated word a whispered phrase which keeps and holds and stays with you                 throughout the day I want to be the sound                         and smell of fresh felled rain to stir your thoughts as you awake                         a storm relentless, unafraid                        to bring your laughter and retreat into the wants                                       within your veins*
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Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
A happy poem
*Rebellious and insolent my thoughts return to seek for you to find an empty fighting ground; there long ago two hearts collapsed in love insane And so I try again as I take a final blow and watch my soul’s remains laying face up mid-sun not knowing how to live not knowing how to finish dying holding a permanent stance against letting you go there is no final breath I am without your many shields exposed ever so fatally in the promise to protect and bleed in different shades of red as I remember your left hand gently covering my face while the right swift and skilled split my heart in two beyond hope or repair I am without complaint in all your strength and in the bluest of your hues*
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:56 PM UTC
Our fighting ground
He was a man who stopped time stretch a second in love as much as he wanted This was not the case for Saturday traffic he left before she got there Sitting at the corner table she ordered a cup of coffee -for here- in case he returns for that napkin that napkin inscribed in chocolate "I waited, you never got here this flower is yours, if it's alive when you find it water it" She did and drove home against traffic with just a note and a flower Oh, if only the man that stops time could also take care of traffic!
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 1:05 PM UTC
Late