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taylor-napier
taylor-napier
American What's on here is rashly and harshly written, unedited and unrevised. I just write it down when it comes to me, please critique.
You sit behind me in class, And perhaps I am so acutely aware of your presence because I remember what you said behind the safety of your keyboard and it made my heart flutter. Or perhaps it is because You sat on the other side of the room until I told you my secret; because I was never very good at keeping secrets, And now I can feel you brush my back And play with my hair And your eyes burn the back of my head But you blush and apologize when I notice. Perhaps this is all so complicated Because you're already in love But it isn't with me. And you're a good guy, You'd never want to hurt her But I want you for myself And doing things that might hurt In the best of ways. Or perhaps I am overly optimistic, maybe uncharacteristically so. But I remember the heat of your hand on my arm And the way you pulled back a moment and looked me in the eyes Because that tingle of skin couldn't have only been felt on my end. All I know is this is so unlike anything I've experienced before. It's 3 years in the making. And I can wait a little longer A lot longer For you.
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
Something I'm Working On
I tried to write a poem about it, but there seems to be no fluidity of words or elegance of speech to describe how wholly and simply I want you. For it is my body that sings your song in the early hours; And it is your love that I crave. So crash into me and give me something worth writing about.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
Be my muse
Whenever you doubt your worth, Remember: Stars have died so that you may live.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
Remember.
The sun kissed the sea So gently that it blushed Then it dipped below the horizon Always in a rush. And night fell over muted pinks And became the darkest blues And I realized night had fallen Because I had fallen, too.
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Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
The way I love you
I opened my heart To the accent of your voice And the way you wrote Beautiful words I opened my mind To falling for the kind of guy My parents always worried I'd find beautiful I opened my eyes To seeing beyond the skin And recognizing your Beautiful mind I opened my heart And you left goosebumps on my skin But now I'm stuck re reading Your beautiful words
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Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
Untitled
I cannot write with this much pain I cannot see through this much rain Because I honestly might go insane Knowing your lips hold my name But your arms can't do the same.
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Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 3:57 PM UTC
Untitled
All I can hear Is the quiet "tick" of my watch Telling me It's 8:23. I guess time It goes on unfaltered, undaunted I could be dying But the large hand would still Treck on To 8:24. And it's crazy to think That some people won't live To see 8:30 Or even 8:25 Because people are dying Right now At 8:23. See, but in the time it took For me to write this down It's already 8:26 And some people only ever Got to see 8:23
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
8:23
The monsters They don't sleep Underneath the bed Oh no, all those monsters Are sleeping in your head Except, they aren't Really asleep At all. They are Screaming and Clawing and tearing At your mind. They bruise And blunder through your Thoughts until you Can't tell if They are Yours. And you You are so Unrecognizable. Even to yourself you Are someone totally different I guess you're a monster, too. Because you fought Hard and Long. But you Lost.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
Addiction
The sea stood up and whispered In words I couldn't hear It leaned across your shoulder And breathed into your ear The sea fell back a moment You nodded because you knew Then it took you up in its embrace And now you keep it blue.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
Drown
His voice was all she heard Playing like a broken record In her head. The scent of his skin was all She smelt on the other side Of the bed. His laugh was painted on the Walls of the kitchen and it Was blood red. The color of roses and the Color of dying and the color Of words unsaid. He was in the whole home And she couldn’t escape His tred. So she stayed in her room And tried to remember it Was she who fled.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 3:58 AM UTC
It Was She