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shelby-young
American
Forlornly I will rest in this melancholy nest, that hums for me the tune of my beloved doom; and as the clock’s chime bears heavy on my mind, I will swim to you in a sea of new one last time.
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Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 5:23 PM UTC
For my love
The burning that runs its course through my veins is not there because I asked for it - it is there because you put it there. All I wanted to do was run, but you tripped me and beat me down until I was glued to the ground like the Titanic is glued to the ocean floor. And when there was no energy left for me to fight back, you slipped the needle in my vein and pushed every last bit of lonely darkness into my body. Suddenly, there's energy to scream - there's energy to worry and cry. I feel my own heart beat faster than the rhythm of an olympic sprinter's feet. I feel my hands shake like those of an ****** addict. I can feel the caffeinated insanity latch onto my thoughts and pulse through me. I didn't ask for this, but I sit here and feel it.
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Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 6:42 PM UTC
Unwanted Gift
All I know of you is the love I had for you when I fell into this dream. You were beautiful, the way the sky turns orange and pink at the end of an exhausting day - slowly revealing a sky of starlight that has taken years on end to reach my sight. There was a sudden pull - whether I toward you or you toward me I'm still not sure - but I know it was there. You were swaddled so tight in a blanket that bowed to your beauty. Warm, needy eyes peeked from behind peachy little eyelids, laying full trust in my hands. Before I knew it, you were gone. They took my baby. Her name is a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Their words are branded on my face - "Ma'am, please sit down. You're not being rational." "There is no baby." There is no baby, but I feel her. I feel her like a twister pulling me in, but I've been put in restraints. Regardless of the ache in my bones begging to be with her, they've locked me up. I am detached from reality. Everything is wrong. No one can tell me where she is. They act as if my eyes are turning to goo and sliding out of their sockets - avoiding eye contact in fear of sympathy rising in their souls. They stay on my trail, dabbing away anxiety as it seeps from my pores - hoping I won't see or feel it. I smell their fear as I pace back and forth, brainstorming my escape. My dear Astrid, where could she be? I feel her tugging at my heart, begging for a heroine. Adrenaline is burning through me - screaming at my body, demanding I run for my baby find my baby. And my dream ended. I've spent every day since then looking for my baby. I feel her in my heart. Maybe she's real and maybe I'm crazy - either way, I will never forget my beautiful, stolen, and forgotten daydream baby.
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Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
Astrid Orbit
All I know of you is the love I had for you when I fell into this dream. You were beautiful, the way the sky turns orange and pink at the end of an exhausting day - slowly revealing a sky of starlight that has taken years on end to reach my sight. There was a sudden pull - whether I toward you or you toward me I'm still not sure - but I know it was there. You were swaddled so tight in a blanket that bowed to your beauty. Warm, needy eyes peeked from behind peachy little eyelids, laying full trust in my hands. Before I knew it, you were gone. They took my baby. Her name is a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Their words are branded on my face - "Ma'am, please sit down. You're not being rational." "There is no baby." There is no baby, but I feel her. I feel her like a twister pulling me in, but I've been put in restraints. Regardless of the ache in my bones begging to be with her, they've locked me up. I am detached from reality. Everything is wrong. No one can tell me where she is. They act as if my eyes are turning to goo and sliding out of their sockets - avoiding eye contact in fear of sympathy rising in their souls. They stay on my trail, dabbing away anxiety as it seeps from my pores - hoping I won't see or feel it. I smell their fear as I pace back and forth, brainstorming my escape. My dear Astrid, where could she be? I feel her tugging at my heart, begging for a heroine. Adrenaline is burning through me - screaming at my body, demanding I run for my baby find my baby. And my dream ended. I've spent every day since then looking for my baby. I feel her in my heart. Maybe she's real and maybe I'm crazy - either way, I will never forget my beautiful, stolen, and forgotten daydream baby.
Continue reading...
68
I know you don't know this but that's why I'm writing it. When you called me baby girl last night, everything inside me that's felt dead came back to life. It was like you breathed life into me, like god did to Adam. Even if you didn't mean to you just created a whole new world.
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 5:31 AM UTC
Baby Girl
The closest I can get to you is the farthest I can get from here - the farthest I can get from these dreadful Columbus clouds that protect me from the unknown, the lonely cornfields that grow and grow, but only grow lonelier. But I like the clouds that blanket me at night, keeping me warmer than you ever could. And I love the way the sun rains orange and pink on the lonely cornfield, and the way the cornfield soaks it up and saves it for another day. I could love you if you could love Ohio's cornfields and cloudy days.
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Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 4:00 AM UTC
Ohio
You invade my space, Making my eyes tear up And my lungs burn. You even make my mind dry. Taking you in becomes so easy, It becomes effortless Like one swift drag, You become as simple As one swift drag. And then Everything you are Spills out of my body And clouds all around me. I lose you. I lose me. I look at the world and see Peace. I see so much love Flying everywhere. I can feel it. I am lost in it. I am lost in you.
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Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 3:49 AM UTC
Smoke
I can feel the trees breathing. I can see them inhale our blemished truths, pulling them deeper and deeper until their souls are filled with fantasies. I can see them exhale all their dry, dark worries, trying to force them out, but the power embeds in their lungs, deeper than the fantasies can reach. When I watch them I can feel them breathing their worries right down my spine just as I've breathed my blemished truths into their souls.
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Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
Trees
Your words hum in my bones. Not the honey sweet hum of jazz as you watch rain smooth over golden leaves, not the haunting hum of strangers grinding their opinions with coffee beans and serving it with high hopes of persuasion, but the guilty hum of a little girl who is shutting herself in a room with a thin plastic lock, a room with garbage waist high that let's off thick, charcoal black pollution that poisons her pink lungs, as the external hum of her favorite song slips into the hearts of her loved ones and seals like a jar filled with warm strawberry jam, until it's all yanked away... The hum of a miscarriage in the hearts of her loved ones as she bursts. Your words hum in my bones.
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 1:04 PM UTC
In My Bones
I am from garbage trucks invading the streets, bringing young ones to the window. I am from the hum of the washer bleeding into layered daydreams. I am from charcoal painted on eyelids. I am from opinions stronger than the smell of coffee. I am from bones deep in closets, buried by golden memories. I am from the honey sweet songs mama whispers. I am from the deadly faces of strangers and the suffocation of opinions spewed as facts. I am from the smoothest jazz to the heaviest rock. I am from books with plastic casings stacked high in the grass on a sunny day. I am from every word or statement I have ever heard to ever word or statement I will ever say. I am from late night fires with sweet tea, the song of the night, and the light of the stars. I am from the soft smell of a baby's head to the feeling of thick smoke filling tired lungs. I am from the denial of death to the hesitation of life. I am from smooth rocks under bare feet to cold, harsh rain stinging sun-dried skin. I am from strength and weakness. I am from me to you. That is where I am from.
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Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
Where I'm From
Wishes and dreams carried by the wind to a place no one knows but everyone dreams of. Mother Nature's wish. Mother Nature's dream. Peace. Love. Happiness. All condensed into one thing. One dream. One wish. One idea. That everyone must live by. That everyone strives for. But why do you strive for an idea? Why do you strive for dreams or wishes? After all, they’re just dreams and wishes. They’re just ideas. Nobody can tell you this one idea is right. They cannot tell you with the sincere truth and knowing from deep within their pitted souls. Nobody can tell you what your eternal destiny is. You have to tell yourself. You have to say it with sincere truth and knowing from deep within your own wandering soul. And to find that knowing, that truth, You must search for your wishes and dreams That have been carried by the wind To a place No one knows But everyone dreams of.
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Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 8:19 AM UTC
Day 1 - revised