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natsuminakai
natsuminakai
a lumbering soul but trying to fly / twitter: natttchin
When the world is still sleeping And the rain tiptoes in the dawn When the scented candles are burning Or when I smell freshly cut grass in the lawn I think of you, my sweet darling Oh, how I think of you I think of how you looked at me No unnecessary words spoken We bathed upon each other And I caught your eyes I remember them so clearly They were the eyes of the broken What have she done to you, my sweet darling? Oh, what have she done to you? Your eyes used to be a jungle With fields where the grass grows And infinite rivers and meadows But now they have become corpses Ready and waiting to be sent back to the ground the ground of sorrows and the dead And it pains me Oh, nothing pains me more than seeing you losing the war
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
The Death in His Eyes
You said 'perhaps in another lifetime' To which I replied 'But we still have one ahead of us! How can you be sure it is not this time?' You kept silent and I waited and waited and waited and waited And I should have known sooner that the silence was your answer I should have known when I felt the cold wind brush against my face when you used to be a breath of warm fresh air I should have known when I saw the distance between us by the way your eyes looked away from mine when they used to be fixed on me and only me even when I was away I should have known when you finally opened your mouth And all I could smell were your burnt-out lies that knocked me off my balance as if I just heard them for the first time I should have known when I heard the faltering echo of your voice slowly fading away in the vastness of the grey sky when they used to be so profound singing to me love songs and lullabies I should have known that 'perhaps in another lifetime' was your lazy excuse of telling me 'You are not worth fighting for' And I wish I knew how to get rid of the unpleasant aftertaste of the kiss we shared that night that still lingers inside my mouth
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Burnt Out Lies
6:00 a.m. It was her 28th birthday She loaded the ***** laundry into a washing machine and looked at the toilet that she needed to clean She fixed her hair, she took a shower without even looking at her own reflection on the mirror She grabbed a cup of instant coffee and gulped ounces of it to steer away the terror She tossed the cup in the bin but missed because her hands tremored And as if time was racing with light speed she saw the sunset fading away in retreat She goes to work the next morning with layers of concealer under her eyes but she could never conceal her wistful smile She comes home with her daughter sleeping in her bedroom And on the sofa was her tired husband still in his party clown costume At the corner was the telephone with five voicemails from her mom but she never found time to listen to her qualms She glanced at the night sky from her window with an almost unnoticeable sorrow One day she woke up and she was 70 Still doing the same laundry Still drinking the same instant coffee She looked at her daughter walk down the aisle with her father who almost never smiles She brought flowers to her mom's grave but she couldn't hear her from the other side with the distorted soundwave She still walks out her doorstep with the same shoes Almost getting tired of hearing the same news She still sees the sunset from that window And she looks out from them with the same almost unnoticeable sorrow She woke up and she was 28 again She started to make an effort to notice her face on the mirror She took time to look at her mom and cheer her She hugged her husband more and this time tighter She sank her lips into her daughter's soft cheeks And never dared to miss a moment when her innocent lips speaks She walked out the door before the sun could set to finally buy a new pair of shoes, they were red She walked the earth as if it were her first time and she locked her gaze into the golden sunshine Time passed and she's now 92 And on her deathbed, she said 'If there's one thing that sunsets had taught me, It is that transitions can be beautiful too.'
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Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 7:56 AM UTC
The Golden Hour
6:00 a.m. It was her 28th birthday She loaded the ***** laundry into a washing machine and looked at the toilet that she needed to clean She fixed her hair, she took a shower without even looking at her own reflection on the mirror She grabbed a cup of instant coffee and gulped ounces of it to steer away the terror She tossed the cup in the bin but missed because her hands tremored And as if time was racing with light speed she saw the sunset fading away in retreat She goes to work the next morning with layers of concealer under her eyes but she could never conceal her wistful smile She comes home with her daughter sleeping in her bedroom And on the sofa was her tired husband still in his party clown costume At the corner was the telephone with five voicemails from her mom but she never found time to listen to her qualms She glanced at the night sky from her window with an almost unnoticeable sorrow One day she woke up and she was 70 Still doing the same laundry Still drinking the same instant coffee She looked at her daughter walk down the aisle with her father who almost never smiles She brought flowers to her mom's grave but she couldn't hear her from the other side with the distorted soundwave She still walks out her doorstep with the same shoes Almost getting tired of hearing the same news She still sees the sunset from that window And she looks out from them with the same almost unnoticeable sorrow She woke up and she was 28 again She started to make an effort to notice her face on the mirror She took time to look at her mom and cheer her She hugged her husband more and this time tighter She sank her lips into her daughter's soft cheeks And never dared to miss a moment when her innocent lips speaks She walked out the door before the sun could set to finally buy a new pair of shoes, they were red She walked the earth as if it were her first time and she locked her gaze into the golden sunshine Time passed and she's now 92 And on her deathbed, she said 'If there's one thing that sunsets had taught me, It is that transitions can be beautiful too.'
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47
Oh, I know that the infinite tears will continue to flow for as long as you exist but in sadness there is joy and in loneliness there is growth I find solace and I find peace there's still warmth in this cold, cold heart
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
Scavenge
when I'm looking at you and you're looking back at me I wonder how the gods were able to shrink a thousand stars into those eyes and I wonder how an entire galaxy can spread throughout the palms of your hands how I wish you were just the sands in the ocean within my reach, easy to grasp or the trees in the mountains where I could wrap my arms around but there you are yes, beautiful and shining bright but from where I stand too far away to hold too far away
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Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
If I Asked You, Would You?
To whom it may concern, I’m writing this letter with my computer Because my handwriting is bad I tried practicing once a week But it hasn’t improved since So I’m sorry I have a plan I want to accomplish and this is my plan: I’m taking a long train ride to my favorite town Won’t you come with me? Bring with you a shovel, make it two Your enemies, if handy, could come too And I’ll take with me All the puzzling premonitions we’ve created, The faltering echoes of our unintentional words, The ambiguity we’ve painted on our faces, The tragedy of our inevitable past, The underlying cause of our animosities Let’s bury them all If we get tired of digging, there’s a river nearby We can drown them all Of course under different names So if someone accidentally finds them, They will never know it was us. Everyone has secrets, and this is ours. Sincerely, Manganese
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
The Birth of Hope