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matt-klotz
matt-klotz
American College drop out. Creative writer and Poet. Artist and musician. Dark and dreamy. Alcoholic.
She came to me in a dream Something not quite so clear But vivid enough to get the reaction i wanted I could smell her Hear her incredible voice Taste her In yet, she wasn't there Although i knew many walls confine us And long roads await The Earth doesn't move fast enough Before i get to see you again For now I'll just dream In hopes that one day I'll climb out of this place Over the walls And come save you
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
Jail
I think I think I think too much My mind wont settle, it's in a rush My thoughts bewildered, my heart is crushed Her eyes had fire, Her lips were lush I think I think I messed it up I tried to much, didn't love enough She had me caught, She saw my bluff I could not get through, Her mind was tough I think I think I lost it all, My only date to the winter ball But should I wait or should I call Her hair was long, Her heels were tall I wish I wished I didn't care The pain of it I can hardly bare Its stabbing me, and this she shares The same feeling. A similar pair I wish I wished that I was dead So all the thoughts up in my head Would shrivel away and so i said "I'll lay alone on my death bed"
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
I Think I Think Too Much
Down the hatch! A harmonious cheer comes from our group. A dubious dedication to social excitement Reverberates throughout the club. Back to back, we sink ourselves into inebriation. As we loosen up, the entertainment gets better. The music means something now. The people you meet seem more interesting. Secrets come out. Stories arn't just told, but made. And our lives are at a stand still This is our time! Our place! And we musn't waste it.
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
Tonight...
It rains and rains. Day after day. Night after night. Water falling from the sky. Soaking the floor below. Washing up the dirt. Confining people to their shelters, Giving them time to think. Are there thoughts meaningful or not? They are in fact theirs to own, But do they bore themselves? And the rain suggests this meditation. As the sky leaks, Covering the plants, Giving them life, While the birds bathe, And the mushrooms flourish. Yet, people still think only of themselves. They dont wonder abnout the birds, Or the mushrooms. They worry about vanity. They worry about relationships, Retirement, family, health, sports. They do nothing but worry. But few can appreciate the rain Few can let their mind at ease Listen to the droplets, And not worry.
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
Dripping In Thought
I do not care what car you drive, Where you live, If you know someone who knows someone, If your clothes are this years cutting edge, If your trust fund is unlimited, If your A-List, B-List, or never heard of you list. I only care about the words that flutter though your mind. They are the only things you truly own. The only thing i will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and skin. I will not fall in love with the places you've been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter From your extraordinary mind
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
Your Words
Tell me the most amazing thing you've ever heard. Tell me how it made you feel. Tell me what makes you quiver with Joy. What makes you sad, angry, scared? Tell me what makes you sweat. What makes you cry? Tell me what you want, What you expect. And ill tell you why i want to know. I'll tell you why I can't see your face without smiling. I'll tell you how I feel when i kiss you. I'll tell you what worries me about you . I'll tell you how I care for you, How you save me . And ill tell you that your words, Are the most amazing thing I've ever heard.
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Talk to me
I take a cigarette break to the beach at 2AM every time i'm on the graveyard shift. The whole atmosphere of being at the edge of a continent with an endless body of water living and breathing in front of you is emotional. When the sea is calm and the tide is low it feel like you can relax, listen to the tide rippling off the rocks and it soothes the soul. When the tide is high and the sea is rough you realize the pure power of the ocean. I imagine the lives previously taken by the merciless sea, engulfing ships and crashing into mountains and piers, cities, lighthouses, residences, and boat yards. Unforgiving, and yet, majestic she is responsible for more life than we can fathom. A whole different part of our world we have such minimal access to. I look out into her endless brilliance as the wind warns me of her presence. Blasting the smell of salt onto my skin, as i take long breathes with ease. The ocean is wise, she has been here much longer then i have and has experienced loss, life, tragedy, war, ****** and survival. Nobody's around at 2AM, just me and her. Every night she gives me the same feeling, like a women you love but cant control, a free spirit, wild for her own pleasure, thirsty for love and affection but resilient to the idea of being confined. For you can not control the one who manipulates you. I am being manipulated by the sea. As i exhale my last puff i walk back inside to work. "Ill see you tomorrow".
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
Night Shift
bold face lies he experiences them everyday masked in a never ending blanket that unknowingly smothers him confining him to a mere subject of ones own trickery giving him the comfort of trust and honesty then tearing it away at the cost of ones own credulity smirking in a way that makes him want to lift out of his mortal body damaging the soul of the antagonistic entity the same entity that stole his confidence that shattered his reliance on credibility that shunned his desire to persevere and at what cost? an elitist mentality that was created to fool him? what reward do the liars get? for they are deceived as well but are blind to knowing it. their minds clouded by their own self resilience that when they are the ones in need they are alone exiled to a vast plain of empty yellow pages a victim of ones own doing and from what origin is this conduct of behavior well... have you ever been lied to?
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
Bold Face Lies