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umpteenthinspection
umpteenthinspection
live to question
I suppose I'll never know the inside of your brain, every crevice and hidden memory. Never feel your arms pulling me closer on a Sunday morning as birds outside harmonise to the beating of our hearts and low hum of our words. Never see the smile that was reserved only for me, your eyes filled with fondness. An admiration that grew slowly like little daisies watered by every tucking of a hair behind your ear, every eyelash pinched gently from your cheek. It's on me, and only me. My tendency to drift away for reasons I can't explain. To leave without a word. To crash through the paper thin glass of what could be just as it begins to thicken. I suppose that I'll just never know.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
Potential
I see you in my tea, Because before you would be here, sipping and smiling with me. And I see you in the flowers, Because we'd sit amongst the poppies for hours, speaking  over the breeze. Oh, I see you in the forest, Because your eyes, they stole their colour from the trees.
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Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
You're all I see.
You are made of honey, sunlight and fire. Fire that heats me, boiling my insides. As your honey drizzles, I slowly fade to a simmer. Your sun shines on me, kissing my skin, leaving freckle like marks of warmth. Warmth like the mug of coffee I wrap my hands around, inside the black liquid, my reflection smiles at me. A smile that has been placed on my lips by you. You are the colours of the sky, as we say our farewell to the ball of light shining upon our world. And you are the feeling bubbling just at my chest, as I stare at dancing flames, a soft blanket across my legs, light pitter-pattering of rain on my windowsill. I find my thoughts consumed by your eyes. Brown, gold and green all at once. Like little lakes in a fairy's garden. Oh, I find myself at home, in you.
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
Warmth.
Wake, eat, sleep. wake, eat sleep. A documentation of my current existence. Emotion has become a foreign word to me, Replaced with simply nothingness. No longer is the red which would burn my body, when I saw him with her, smiling smiles of honey. Gone is the blue, drowning me in her sadness when I thought of all the people who have turned their backs on me decided they were finished with me those who were supposed to love me unconditionally. "Goodbye" said I to yellow who would drizzle me in her warmth when I veiwed the light shining though the trees as birds sang , voices ringing with her colour. For now I fly through life on auto-pilot, never stopping to feel the sun kissing my cheeks so sweetly, never stopping to feel the wind nipping my nose so harshly, never stopping to feel.
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Auto-Piolt