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paige-jones-1
paige-jones-1
I bought my happiness at the dollar store; ninety nine cents, plus tax. I threw the wrapping in the trash inside, Before I'd even left the store. I wore it then, the whole way home, to dinner and to bed. I even wore it in my dream, The best sleep I'd ever had. When I woke in the morning, with great dispare, my happiness was gone. So here I stand in line again, With ninety nine cents in hand.
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 6:56 AM UTC
My Happiness
The wind’s agonizing words, Shake me from within. Echo my very own breath. Playing with my soul. The rain falls, Heavier than before. A single drop hits the pavement, Drenching the streets with sorrow. The dark skies, Cast fear upon the lonely children, Who walk the streets of sorrow, And drench their feet with raindrops. No shadows to be cased. No one is around, As lonely hearts wander, The way lonely hearts do.
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Streets of Sorrow
Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize this made you uncomfortable. Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize my big nose Was any of your business. I'm sorry, You’re right. I never noticed it casts shadows all over my face-- **** Its hard you know? When you open my eyes to something I never saw before, But thank you. For showing me Oh I'm sorry. I never knew my fat made you feel bad. That it made you hate yourself, And made you wonder life. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, To make you feel nauseous. I know how hard it is And I'm sorry. My gosh, I'm sorry. You’ll have to forgive me. I shouldn't take things so seriously. My girlfriend tells me I'm too defensive, That not everyone gets it, So I am sorry. You know, I'm sorry. I never really noticed, That you're skin was too white and rich To be dirtied by the likes of me. That you’re middle to upper classed family Was offended that I even fathomed us being friends. You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just uneducated. I'm sorry that I'll never understand what it is that makes you better than me.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
I'm Sorry
His hands were the one I thought ruled the world. His eyes were the ones I thought saw it all. His heart was the heart that won every war And passion was his only -weapon - used. His voice was the one I heard at night. His warmth was the warmth that spread through my body and Showed me What love really felt like. What love really felt like? I asked all the time. And his eyes were the ones that Answered. And his hands were the ones that Made it really For me. That’s what it seemed to be You see, For me, He was all I’d need. For me, he was the only thing my eyes would See. For me, his hands were enough And his warmth was my coat And his arms were my home And his love was the boat That carried Me, to shore. And for me… It was only for me. Because for him, I wasn’t enough. And his warmth was just warmth, It was never true love. But then again, How can I say what true love is, Because maybe it was to him. Because maybe love is the Heart of more than one Woman. Maybe love is the Passion of more than one Lover. Maybe love was never what I had Thought And love Was only wrong To me. But to me, That’s not love. And to me, That’s not caring. And to me, That is, Nothing more than an – Insecure man to afraid to, Curl his body around mine to, Pose the question As he turns his body Into that doubtful Question mark That leaves him open to pain. To me, That Is love. Curling yourself around the heart you want, Around the one that You choose To have you In your most Vulnerable state And to see you, as you Ask the hardest question Because, What Is love?
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
What is love?
His hands were the one I thought ruled the world. His eyes were the ones I thought saw it all. His heart was the heart that won every war And passion was his only -weapon - used. His voice was the one I heard at night. His warmth was the warmth that spread through my body and Showed me What love really felt like. What love really felt like? I asked all the time. And his eyes were the ones that Answered. And his hands were the ones that Made it really For me. That’s what it seemed to be You see, For me, He was all I’d need. For me, he was the only thing my eyes would See. For me, his hands were enough And his warmth was my coat And his arms were my home And his love was the boat That carried Me, to shore. And for me… It was only for me. Because for him, I wasn’t enough. And his warmth was just warmth, It was never true love. But then again, How can I say what true love is, Because maybe it was to him. Because maybe love is the Heart of more than one Woman. Maybe love is the Passion of more than one Lover. Maybe love was never what I had Thought And love Was only wrong To me. But to me, That’s not love. And to me, That’s not caring. And to me, That is, Nothing more than an – Insecure man to afraid to, Curl his body around mine to, Pose the question As he turns his body Into that doubtful Question mark That leaves him open to pain. To me, That Is love. Curling yourself around the heart you want, Around the one that You choose To have you In your most Vulnerable state And to see you, as you Ask the hardest question Because, What Is love?
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83
This path of hate. This path of greed's the one they teach today. No teaching of proper values like they had back in the day. Society has flipped and switched, now I know not what I see, because when I look into the eyes of young kids I see no part of me. No part of the generation I love so much, no part of all the good. All I see are cellphone cases sitting there staring back, into my eyes, material things because that's all this generation knows. They know not of the Beatles or even that 70s show. They've missed out on the rock and roll, The Rolling Stones and Kiss. They've missed out on the drive in movies, for them ignorance is bliss. It's sad to say but it's the truth they choose to live this way. I'm sure if they could experience the past they'd turn it all away.
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
2013
I've felt this feeling once before, a fire deep within. It burns me from the inside out, spreads to the barriers of my skin. My loved ones do not put it out, but fan it with their hands. No one to turn to as I burn, to ashes in the sand.
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
Left (to burn)
I breathed in red, but let out blue, the crowded room still empty. Cold and bitter no matter what while their nearby fires burn. Isolated all the way, until I reach the bottom, because I know nothing more than a world that’s full of sorrow. And as your hands still reach for me I’ll push and push you further, until you see that I am barren, that I’m just an outstretched winter. And though your summer tries to warm me I fly, I am a bird, but fly away from your good weather, and straight into the storm. As the sunsets you turn away like all the others have, I feel regret inside my soul, but still emotions masked.
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Barren Winter