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nicola-em
When sad is an understatement, Everything falls numbly into the wrong place and you say all the wrong things and even balloons remind you that you're just drifting away from everything you'd wanted. You thought you were holding on tightly to the string, but you realize: It's been slipping for months now. Later, all you're left with is a picture, seared into your memory, of that joy- full balloon disappearing.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 2:56 PM UTC
When sad is an understatement
Trying to think in phrases as beautiful as lace; words that roll off the tongue like thunder bringing rain to break the heat that marked the end of an era. Trying to go back to that open field where I was vulnerable, where the pressures of reality were as far and as fleeting as the star we watched fall across the sky, where grass between bare toes and fingers intertwined, and the future was ours to chase. Hair flying, hearts pounding, not knowing once we reached the edge of the field, and found the road, and found the paths, and realized that ours went in different directions.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
Summer
I put pen to paper, aiming to create nothing in specific but every time my pen traces the contours of your blue eyes, full lips, the soft, invisible fuzz of a barely-there beard, strong arms that don't protect me from the stabbing knife of your non-words. Indifference I can't escape because it's too convincing for me to believe. If only I could write something that wasn't about You.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
Predictability
Hey, baby sing me a tongue lullaby I’ll dance for you if you would like that. Twirling along the lilt of your sounds as you utter them syllable by syllable. I find you in the darkness created by the infinity of whatever it is we feel and you sweep me off my feet—literally—and fly with me away inside the music you created. By then it’s only you and me, although it has been all along and it’s your body and it’s nobody; my body Entwined in the kasbahs of eternity. An Adaptation of a (Love?) Poem by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
An Adaptation of a (Love?) Poem
Most people don’t know That two halves don’t necessarily make a whole Half a shoe plus half a butter knife makes something infinitely more useless than either halves alone. Or it makes something much more interesting But still, whatever it is—it is not whole. Most people want more Than only half of things I wonder: is it greed or just a desire for completion And if something is complete, is it also whole? And if someone were to search for long enough, would they find the missing half to everything? Unstructured Musings by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
Unstructured Musings