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lost-left-shoe
Apart, we stood on the wings of unparalleled airplanes With a hunger to grow a pair of wings for ourselves Together we stood on the island of a shifting ocean Broken backgrounds shattering preconceived notions Wrapping each other’s arms around healing scars, We opened them back up So the rest could massage soft words into the wounds Turning our hearts into good soil Where we could start to re-grow the parts of ourselves Left black and cracked by a burning past We stepped out from behind the masks packed firmly in our suitcases Learning to love ourselves and each other For the vices and vulnerabilities we’d hidden for so long We forged a chain where the weakest link Was the one that wouldn’t let another bear their burden And we used that chain to lift each other above our worries Because perspective was the one thing we were lacking. When we stood on the cliff hills looking over the ocean, Perspective was the only thing we had The rest was swept up in sea foam carried by rolling meadow breezes, Soft rainfall on window panes, Shared smiles and the laughter of fast friends As we unclasped our hands to turn towards home The sadness we held was for the time until we would meet again The tears that streamed forth were to show that Noone would be forgotten The months we spent together will be etched on our hearts Waiting for a reunion to read back the memories We stand on the doorway to tomorrow The taste of long-gone whiskey on our lips Tempting to take the breath out of the final hours Until the winds beckon us back to Belfast My legs grow restless as I await your return I need to see you all again
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Temporary Seperations
Apart, we stood on the wings of unparalleled airplanes With a hunger to grow a pair of wings for ourselves Together we stood on the island of a shifting ocean Broken backgrounds shattering preconceived notions Wrapping each other’s arms around healing scars, We opened them back up So the rest could massage soft words into the wounds Turning our hearts into good soil Where we could start to re-grow the parts of ourselves Left black and cracked by a burning past We stepped out from behind the masks packed firmly in our suitcases Learning to love ourselves and each other For the vices and vulnerabilities we’d hidden for so long We forged a chain where the weakest link Was the one that wouldn’t let another bear their burden And we used that chain to lift each other above our worries Because perspective was the one thing we were lacking. When we stood on the cliff hills looking over the ocean, Perspective was the only thing we had The rest was swept up in sea foam carried by rolling meadow breezes, Soft rainfall on window panes, Shared smiles and the laughter of fast friends As we unclasped our hands to turn towards home The sadness we held was for the time until we would meet again The tears that streamed forth were to show that Noone would be forgotten The months we spent together will be etched on our hearts Waiting for a reunion to read back the memories We stand on the doorway to tomorrow The taste of long-gone whiskey on our lips Tempting to take the breath out of the final hours Until the winds beckon us back to Belfast My legs grow restless as I await your return I need to see you all again
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34
There isn’t a standardized, introductory text Regarding relations with the opposite *** As the title suggests I’m here to help To give you the insight I’ve uncovered so far Let’s start with the ******** the older guys told you in middle school “The “yawn-and-stretch” technique is sure-fire and will never fail. Don’t bother actually getting to know the girl. Your first kiss is far more important. Do not call someone until at least three days after you get their number. You will seem desperate, and they will run away, literally. Always treat the person you’re after like **** They’ll see you as confident and superior and like you even more.” If you’re someone that encourages young hearts With this crap Please do us all a favor And go take a long walk off a short pier with cement shoes Moving on, we see the root of bad romantics We are taught, from birth, to take what we want By any means necessary But it seems the difference between earning and theft Has become a bit blurred to the point of Prince Charming forcing himself upon Sleeping Beauty Burglarizing the contents of her personal space in order to find himself a princess The Beast held Beauty like a cage to a canary Unleashing her to the dribble drabble of tiny tea cups Until she sought solace in Stockholm My frustration with Walt Disney, I hope, is apparent You are not the Knight in Shining Armor she’s looking for You are not her jailer, her savior, or her insatiable love-maker unless she’s into that kind of thing In a relationship, a man fills one of three roles: 1. Someone to make her life a little better in the time you’re together 2. Showing her joy after heartbreak, and that love springs eternal 3. The ******* that makes her appreciate the nice guys And if you fit into that third category…fuck you. Lastly, in order to help you truly be a man in your relationship, I’ve got some words of wisdom -Be like a blanket right out of the dryer When you wrap your arms around her, Let her get lost in the daydream Warm. Soft. Safe. -Don’t take anything you can’t give back. Just because she gives you a piece of her heart Doesn’t mean you can take the whole thing. She might be made of golden opportunities, But don’t go trying to melt them down to make a pocket watch -Explore the space between you Run your palms across The rough spots and the smooth spots Try to figure out why they’re there -Gaze down into every crevice And stargaze up from every hilltop You have miles to traverse But you know it will all be worth it When all it takes to shoot lightning bolts up your spine Is a smile in pitch-black room Like I said, there is no textbook, guide or pamphlet That will give you direct answers to your greatest questions But here’s a compass to point you In the vicinity of the area where you might find The right ballpark of behavior
0
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
A Man’s Guide to Women from a Man Who Loves Women
There isn’t a standardized, introductory text Regarding relations with the opposite *** As the title suggests I’m here to help To give you the insight I’ve uncovered so far Let’s start with the ******** the older guys told you in middle school “The “yawn-and-stretch” technique is sure-fire and will never fail. Don’t bother actually getting to know the girl. Your first kiss is far more important. Do not call someone until at least three days after you get their number. You will seem desperate, and they will run away, literally. Always treat the person you’re after like **** They’ll see you as confident and superior and like you even more.” If you’re someone that encourages young hearts With this crap Please do us all a favor And go take a long walk off a short pier with cement shoes Moving on, we see the root of bad romantics We are taught, from birth, to take what we want By any means necessary But it seems the difference between earning and theft Has become a bit blurred to the point of Prince Charming forcing himself upon Sleeping Beauty Burglarizing the contents of her personal space in order to find himself a princess The Beast held Beauty like a cage to a canary Unleashing her to the dribble drabble of tiny tea cups Until she sought solace in Stockholm My frustration with Walt Disney, I hope, is apparent You are not the Knight in Shining Armor she’s looking for You are not her jailer, her savior, or her insatiable love-maker unless she’s into that kind of thing In a relationship, a man fills one of three roles: 1. Someone to make her life a little better in the time you’re together 2. Showing her joy after heartbreak, and that love springs eternal 3. The ******* that makes her appreciate the nice guys And if you fit into that third category…fuck you. Lastly, in order to help you truly be a man in your relationship, I’ve got some words of wisdom -Be like a blanket right out of the dryer When you wrap your arms around her, Let her get lost in the daydream Warm. Soft. Safe. -Don’t take anything you can’t give back. Just because she gives you a piece of her heart Doesn’t mean you can take the whole thing. She might be made of golden opportunities, But don’t go trying to melt them down to make a pocket watch -Explore the space between you Run your palms across The rough spots and the smooth spots Try to figure out why they’re there -Gaze down into every crevice And stargaze up from every hilltop You have miles to traverse But you know it will all be worth it When all it takes to shoot lightning bolts up your spine Is a smile in pitch-black room Like I said, there is no textbook, guide or pamphlet That will give you direct answers to your greatest questions But here’s a compass to point you In the vicinity of the area where you might find The right ballpark of behavior
Continue reading...
62
My heart was pieced together like a patchwork Just like the rest of me Made from parts of ticking time-bombs Stitched and stapled together in a mass of voracious viscosity Violently vilifying the way The thread streams me seamlessly from one person to the next Each feeling they will be the center-ring circus master Until they realize The sewing needle is simply passing through their square The seamstress ran out of string with me Resulting in relapse burlap fistfights along the edges Left me searching for salvation each time The bells chimed to open the day Left me in the company of Misshapen shadows hidden along broken back hallways Back-and-forth handshakes to make sure The other was still there Night after night, staring at your creation in the window But not during the day because monsters like the dark It’s not that it’s easier to sneak and scare I just know the faces of disgust and terror And I don’t need that right now When that’s the same face I want to rip from the mirror That night should have been stormy For all the things that I did To your masterpiece Pulling at strands like they were nooses around my neck Each time like removing an iron bar from my cage Until the burlap sack flew apart flapping like vultures Leaving nothing but the sheep in scarecrow’s clothing Unraveling my sense of time until the clock struck 3 times an echo Once for the creation of your abhorrent abomination Twice for your meticulous sense of the grotesque And three times for putting a soul you saw unhappy Into a prison so much worse When I was on your bench My words came choppily and broken Because I couldn't finish a sentence Without second guessing everything Waiting for a punishment after every word So I wouldn't interrupt The beginning of your sentence With the middle of mine You put my heart together piece by piece Cross-stitching over the years of my childhood Connecting a pair of glasses with a two-tone sense of humor Building a bridge between arms wide open and a shotgun blast But now the words flow fluidly Because now my thoughts are seamless Put together skillfully like a seamstress’s caress No more anticipating the end before the beginning Now that I've come full circle
0
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
Patchwork Kid
My heart was pieced together like a patchwork Just like the rest of me Made from parts of ticking time-bombs Stitched and stapled together in a mass of voracious viscosity Violently vilifying the way The thread streams me seamlessly from one person to the next Each feeling they will be the center-ring circus master Until they realize The sewing needle is simply passing through their square The seamstress ran out of string with me Resulting in relapse burlap fistfights along the edges Left me searching for salvation each time The bells chimed to open the day Left me in the company of Misshapen shadows hidden along broken back hallways Back-and-forth handshakes to make sure The other was still there Night after night, staring at your creation in the window But not during the day because monsters like the dark It’s not that it’s easier to sneak and scare I just know the faces of disgust and terror And I don’t need that right now When that’s the same face I want to rip from the mirror That night should have been stormy For all the things that I did To your masterpiece Pulling at strands like they were nooses around my neck Each time like removing an iron bar from my cage Until the burlap sack flew apart flapping like vultures Leaving nothing but the sheep in scarecrow’s clothing Unraveling my sense of time until the clock struck 3 times an echo Once for the creation of your abhorrent abomination Twice for your meticulous sense of the grotesque And three times for putting a soul you saw unhappy Into a prison so much worse When I was on your bench My words came choppily and broken Because I couldn't finish a sentence Without second guessing everything Waiting for a punishment after every word So I wouldn't interrupt The beginning of your sentence With the middle of mine You put my heart together piece by piece Cross-stitching over the years of my childhood Connecting a pair of glasses with a two-tone sense of humor Building a bridge between arms wide open and a shotgun blast But now the words flow fluidly Because now my thoughts are seamless Put together skillfully like a seamstress’s caress No more anticipating the end before the beginning Now that I've come full circle
Continue reading...
54