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Dec 2017 · 352
Confused longing
Row Dec 2017
I know what we were is gone
That’s ok
I know what we had is history
I like history
That’s ok
I know where we feel the best is behind us
Those were my favorite spots but
That’s ok
Dec 2017 · 234
Forgive this
Row Dec 2017
I often wonder if you come here anymore
Sometimes I wish I was there with you knowing what you do
But being here is all I have
And all I need
I often wonder what you think anymore
Sometimes I think I’m better here and so you are there
But being apart makes that difficult
And that’s all I need
I often wonder how you are doing anymore
Sometimes I think you don’t want to talk to me at all
But I know it’s for a good reason
And that’s all you need
I often wonder if you’d think I’m still me anymore
Sometimes I think I talk too much or say what I ‘oughtn’t
But I know you know what I mean
And that’s all we need

I often think of you but not the same way anymore
Sometimes I think that’s wrong but then I see how you see it
But that’s ok because I know what you have
And that’s all you need
I often think we don’t need to fuss anymore
Sometimes I ponder the what-ifs and has-beens
But I have my own and you have yours
All you need
And all I need
There’s nothing evil here just a complicated I miss you”
Nov 2014 · 1.2k
Ruth is an anagram
Row Nov 2014
Ruth was not her name
Ruth is just her game
To save her face, and keep her safe,
Dispite the pain she gave,
Ruth will be the same



Ruth was first, the best, the worst
The one who took us everywhere
And once I lost her in the crowd
And found her again in all new wares

The greatest kiss
The fastest ride
Up great hills and down sweet planes
To an end most fowl.
Twice I died.

Ruth was the first, the best, the worst
The one who ruined everything
And again I lost her to the crowd
And met her again in the wings

The sideline view of her shook my heart
And rocked my feeble world
Up terrible mountains And down sharp plunges
To an end so fowl
That it could.only be that girl

Ruth is not her name
Ruth is just her game
She may not know the way she works,
The way she is, that's Ruth.
Ruth hurt
I write here to you to save myself from writing there
Nov 2014 · 811
Never had the courage
Row Nov 2014
From the minute we met,
Her smile, sharp eyes, and freckles,
Her kindness, joy, and ferocity,
Her story and her corgi, radar,
They got to me.
My heart ached for her in the third grade.
From the minute we talked,
Her power, courage, and confidence
Her strength, individuality, and warm persona
They got to me.
My knees went weak every time I talked to her.
From the minute I gained the courage,
She was taken, loving, and busy
She was happy, occupied, and content
That got to me.
My confidence flew south for winter.
From the minute we graduated high school last year,
We haven't talked, hung out, chilled,
We haven't seen, spoken to, or heard from each other.
That got to me.
I never had the courage to gain her love,
Now she's off to a new grade of her own.
If you like someone a whole lot, and I mean a LOT, and you have for a long time, don't waste your time. Ask him or her out. I know I wish I'd just gotten over my fear of rejection, so you all should.
Row Oct 2014
try to jump
run, hide, escape
any way you can
just don't put yourself in a corner.
feel for a switch
flick, smack, press
anything you can
to light up the corner.
just don't put yourself in a corner.
take every effort you can
breathe, scream, mumble
because in nightmares
no one can hear you
in the dim lit room
just don't put yourself in a corner.
that's where they get you.
Row Oct 2014
A black sedan cruises by with patches of white left behind from the last life it lived. what once stood for justice stands for rebellion as youth irons out the creases in expectation.
     A ******* yellow bug carries triplets each from a different family, each wearing pink bows. They turn in perfect syncro with heartless bug eyes when they catch me unconsciously stare on.
     A small hatchback with a busted taillight; full of ****, comics, and action figures bears a bearded chauffeur who drools all the way back to his cave
     Smell the sharp burning chill come from that coupe with the yellow windows and eyes as red as the ember passing from passenger to passenger in the mirror.
     The little old lady in the silver Buick can't even see over the wheel. Probably better that way considering all she'd see is a bunch of terrified youngsters in a panic to get to that blasted rock concert.
     Don't let the dented tailgate fool you, the only work this one's seen is the piece of work he has waiting for him at home; with fire in one hand and fear on the plate in the other.
     Vans hold all kinds of secrets but the only one this van holds is how its still allowed to come within a mile of a school. After all, candy and ice cream will rot your teeth, especially if they're free.
     Orange, yellow, red, green, blue, checkers. Either way, he's gotta make a living, and if it's to the airport you want to go, he'll get you there in a jiffy.
     The rear view mirror of my old 65 shows only the smirk and grin I wear as the rumble of turn down exhaust wakes up towns and sets off alarms left and right, and sirens blocking my view in the back.
Just from the point of view of an old passenger turned driver.
Oct 2014 · 563
Never mad
Row Oct 2014
Never mad at her
Only mad at myself now
Spoke without reserve
I hope if this is ever seen by her that she knows I feel no anger towards her. At all. Only myself. And if I vent on tumblr again it will just be too visible to eyes I wish not see any more than what has wrecked me before.  For a thought on the past in a more dark time looked back on with even the slightest nostalgia has landed me mindlessly venting again.
Oct 2014 · 429
A stranger in her arms
Row Oct 2014
If I am the only one she holds so near,
why is it like I'm not here?
Reunited once more for the first time in weeks
And it's like she never held me before.

That place I felt most at home
In shambles for reason unknown.
For some reason she just stopped
Like a bullet to a freight train.
For no reason it all dropped
Like a heavy rain.

I get the new home and friends
But what constitutes these ends?
What fear shrouds your mind?
Why my future should affect your present when I look at my past I get but don't know.
I guess all I can say is go.
If someone you love and haven't seen in weeks grabs you tight then just simply lets go, there's something wrong. Run. Go. Don't let that fester. If you can, best her. When someone doesn't love you or like you anymore, there's nothing you can do but let it just go and let him or her be on their way. They just stop, for no reason, then don't fight it, because nothing can fix it.
Row Oct 2014
I know that sounds funny.
funny
That's a word I'll still use.
Use
I'm not that type ex.
Ex
'X' her name off the wall.
Wall
The only thing stopping me from the winds of change.
Change
Something I always spend when I need it.
It
What is it?
It
How is it?
It
What do I do with it?
It
I loved her.
Her
Her words mean something.
Something
What a friend means to my world.
World
The place I'll still live in and on.
On
I'm on an endless cycle of the same fall.
Fall
The season that always ends it all.
All
What I still have, with one less element.
Element
An element for survival is the tear.
Tear
Tear the last bad thought out of my head.
Head
Something I need to gain to move forward.
Forward
The direction I walk.
Walk
The motion of my movement from here.
Here
A place I care to be once I get there.
There
Up ahead
That's what I need
She has never seen this place
The only place she can't see me cry.
One minute great, the next minute gone. Anonymous folk don't hear a sad story, hear a sad reality.
Aug 2014 · 455
First Time
Row Aug 2014
Funny, the first place I can offer a public view of my mind has nothing to do with the title of this poem.

The first time I had, what friends call, "gained my manhood" was recently demolished and turned into a housing development surrounded by more housing developments.

The first time I had gotten emotionally close with a girl was in a place where I learned many more things, yet I dont ever have to nor want to go there again.

The first time I met my best friend was the first time i.wondered which of them was my best friend.

The first time I posted a poem online was in a place where no one could see it but those I invited.

The first time I shared my poems with someone was the last time i saw those works.
A retrospective into why I havent written in a while. Lets all give a warm boots welcome to Row

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