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every other month,
i fly.
when my mind fills with worries and unease,
my lungs expand with fear not air,
my heart speeds,
and with a single backpack
i take a bus to the airport.
long ride listening to my comfort songs
is just a beginning to my little getaway.
(i already feel calm writing about this moment)

quick 30 mins wait at the gate, then
i fly.
my reality you can wait for me at the airport
right where i left you,
because you deserve a break too.

see you in 5 days.
i'll meet you back at the airport.
The sky is
A graveyard of stars

And I remark
Something so tragically beautiful

Just like fireworks of art
From here to the nearest star

And I wish
I could lay awake
In the night

With you
And our lingering hearts

And tell you all about a tragedy
Called life
I dug a trench
to keep you close
growing the hedges
with rope and hose
I filled a moat
to keep you in
a buoy, no boat
if you tried to swim
I planted flowers
bushes, no tree
lest you could climb
and found you free
I paved a road
there you cut a path
far from the garden
away from my arms
now I’m building a bridge
across a sad sea
if you ever decide
to come back to me.
I want to be your playmate
Dancing on the bubbles of our joy.
I want to be your everything
Providing all you need and more.

        I want to be your hiding place
        When storms of life surround you.
        I want to be the face you see
        When you wake up forever.

                 I want to be a steady beam
                 To light the ways we travel.
                 I want to be part of your life
                 As long as God will let me
                              ljm
Written in 2006 and lost in the clutter.
They did away with the carrot and kept the stick,
put another brick in the wall and
we all love that, don't we?

Kilroy
wouldn't recognise today
it's a million miles away
from what he knew
and what he knew
he wrote on the wall.

I don't even recognise today
it's a thousand miles away
from last week and a walk
and a half from yesterday,
and now
they've done away with
conkers
the bat and the ball
the carrot
not the stick
and even the wall.

Kilroy signed on the sick
and
now I do believe
that
I've seen it all.
You hate me?
Great
'Cause I hate me
Wait...
Did we just find common ground?

©2024
Wishing for a pure love
The kind that
Wants to make me shine
When I hear your voice
Wants nothing for itself
In return
The kind that walks on white
Warm sands
The kind that comes
In a drop
Of rain
Falling on the leafs dry vein
The kind that looks like
A child giggling while
Twirling in the sun with her tresses
Entwined in flowers
Respect enough not to force affections
Or expect it as something in return
The kind that teaches
The kind that learns
Pure and innocently
That wishes everything good
For others
While it waits for
Its turn
We all want the best versions of ourselves for others. What about for ourselves? Then you can see if its real.
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