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 Nov 2014 Ever Punk Goddess
Jack
~

A whisper in the darkness,
so soft and yet so clear
Quiet words to let you know
that I am always near
~
Sending you affection,
a love that shall endure
From one who truly cares for you
*and will forever more
The director yells ~ 《!!CUT!!》

The California Redwoods definitely yell *《¡¡DON'T¡¡》
Sweet Redwoods (be kind)
 Nov 2014 Ever Punk Goddess
Onoma
Here...take hold my eyes--
wear them.
What do you see...my presence,
or my absence?
There...I'll take hold your eyes--
wear them.
What do I see...your presence,
or your absence?
If we both communicate a
presence and absence...then
where do you leave off, and I
begin?
It may be from this viewpoint
we are not the sole possessors of
our eyes.
 Nov 2014 Ever Punk Goddess
Duck
I think God is obligated to give you trouble
If you can't stand this **** but refuse to work a shovel
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 Nov 2014 Ever Punk Goddess
Xyns
I've spent most of my life running

Running from my past

From what I used to be


I've spent most of my life running

Running from the truth

From my horrible reality


I've spent most of my life running

Running blindly, endlessly

Recklessly escaping, retreating


I've spent most of my life running

But maybe you can only run so much

Until you just can't go any farther


Maybe you can only escape so much

Before your running is pointless

Because you've been running in circles the whole time..
i slip into
the embrace
of the sea,
this morning
and it,
welcomes me.

the salt,
carresses my skin
and the cool water,
captures my mind

i swim out,
past the breakline
and into the green

who knows,
what swims beneath....
when i dive
i see nothing,
but seaweed
yet there is,
a whole world
down there...
watching,

as i stroke,
my way back and forth across the cove...

the worries of the landlocked cease,
and i am...
at one...
with the rythm...
of my body,
as the water,
slides,
past each and every,
skincell,

it is like...
weaving liquid silk,
into the weft,
of my tattered soul ...
and in doing so,
renewing vigour
and purpose.

the sun rises,
and the surfers come...
at last i am done....
and leave the water,
slipping quietly
back on to the sand...

and back into the less fluid
being of me....
patched....and embroidered
ready .....for another day
i swim most mornings at dawn break.....sometimes
i beat the surfers ....to the fresh water....
What were my goals born of?
Desire for more,
The feeling I would die if I didn't follow them
The knowledge that I can acheive them
The idea that this is what I was born to do?

Or am I just to scared to persue
What I wabt to do?
Will I ever be brave enough to figure it out?
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