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 Mar 18 Lorrin

love runs cold
and fills my cavities
in a relative heat
that i mistake for warmth

love runs cold
and rattles my bones
in a conscious effort
that i mistake for movement

love runs cold
and gives watery oxygen
to my lungs
that i think i can breathe

love runs cold
and floods the air
in such a way
that i think my tears are part of it

your grip is hot in mine,
your pulse weak

and i mistake you for human .

 Mar 4 Lorrin
 Mar 4 Lorrin
absence makes the heart grow fonder
but what does it do to the rest of you?

watery eyes, framed by damp lashes

tear stained cheeks, mouth turned down
but only at the tips

arms, wrapped around your body

thoughts, drifting between past and present

fingers, mindlessly tracing the same patterns
you used to draw on me

but its okay
my heart is fonder.
Brazilian Portuguese: is a deep emotional state
of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing
for an absent something or someone that one loves.
 Mar 4 Lorrin
I'll plant tulip seeds
inside your pillow
If ever you weep
while lying in bed,
red and pink flowers
will sprout up to hug
you around your head
 Mar 2 Lorrin
Yan F
wrap your warm
           and caring arms
  all around me
                and whisper to my ears
                that you've always heard
                all my prayers and pleas
                     renew your covenant
          right now
     that you'll forever
                                 be with me
for i've forever been faithful to you
        then help me
               tell the whole world
            that you've
      since been the one
              i have
                         you are.
                   let me show them
           that you are not
                                       the mess
                              of ***
                                                     in *****
                                                and pina colada
                                  that they now
                          think you are
                               let me make them see
          that you are not
          just a sad sack
          of fairy tales
          white washed
          painted pretty
          to hide your scars.
                  let me
                             let them
                             that under the husk
                             of that hopeless mirth
                             of the man they see
                             when they see you today
        lies the man
                                          that i see
i close my eyes.
use me to open their's
use me to have them know
that you exist.
                         i know you are
            out there
the man that i
              used to know.
                          i believe
                      you haven't forgotten...
                          i believe
           you haven't changed.
                                  my heart burns
                 to be the sacrifice
                                         that invites forth
                                                       your presence.
                                i long for you
                                            to make known
                           your being
                           once again.
           fashion your altar
                     from the tongue in my mouth
      i shall never cease
                              to sing of memoirs
                   for you.
                              use my bones
                make them the foundation
                                       upon which
                           you grace with your miracles
                                  and with all
                     the living skin
                               of my flesh
                            carve your memory
                                        of which no one
                                        will ever forget.
just a little thing. so have you ever had this one "friend" who always gets misunderstood by everyone else and starts losing themselves because of it? yah i guess you guys kinda get my point.

read this however way you like it but trust me i reallt don't have such creepy thoughts in my head lol (i think) please tell me in the comments what you thought i actually mean by this before you read the notes tho :3 just to enjoy how creative you guys can get with this hehe

THANKS FOR READING <3 still not sponsored but like still plugging Lang Leav "Love Looks Pretty on You" :)
 Feb 25 Lorrin
 Feb 25 Lorrin
If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
Is off-brand raisin bran
Is how you say school is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
 Feb 19 Lorrin
I'm still young,
I know I have time,
I'm probably not even a quarter into my life.
Yet I feel like time is running out.
I want to grow up,
But not because I wish to throw out my childhood,
To leave the safety of my nest,
To jump into the open world.
Truth be told I'm scared.

But for some reason I wish to age.
To have a job,
To live by myself,
To try independence-

I want to fall in love,
I want something more,
More than ***** high school romance.
I want life.
I want to live.

And although now I feel empty,
I know I won't be one day.
Or at least I hope I won't be.
feb 9, 2019
 Feb 19 Lorrin
 Feb 19 Lorrin
bright red mouths
jeering at me from my own body
they stay
i only have a bandaid to cover them
 Feb 13 Lorrin
patty m
A little boy like you and me,
once hid away inside a tree,
no one knew where to look
so closed was he inside this nook.
Soon his friends ran away,
sure he'd gone elsewhere to play,
while he was lost to deep dream's spill
magic stole away his will.
Ancient tales wound their way
and left him lost amidst the fray.
New knowledge seeped into his mind,
wisdom sent through dream and sign
to turn the fate of all mankind.  
Yet fairies sang him lullabies
and he saw magical images rise
behind the lids of sleepy eyes.

Soon roots took hold, and began to climb
and the little lad sank into slime
but warm it was and fragrant too
a **** of sorts where this child grew.
Creatures in the forest know
through this sap strong magic flows.
He grew bark and limbs so strong,
his arms waved, his truck grew long.

On this hilltop ever steeper,
we find the man called the Keeper.
For keeper he is of secrets so old
that wisemen beg to be so bold,
as to ask advice and beg to see,
this ancient being in a tree.

His roots spread out thoughout the land
across oceans, field, and barren sand.
An oracle, is what he's called
and people come, all enthralled,
to visit with this wizened tree,
or man, or ent, perhaps all three.

As for the child, just accept,
that he grew wise without regret.
So be advised, we all grow up
old dogs too were little pups.

A bard with beard, perhaps unsung
stretches limbs to golden sun.
He is patient and stable, on an even keel,
as he guards the gate to all that's surreal.

If you visit with him, don't be afraid,
his voice is booming his eyes are grave.
but deep inside his laughter rises
The Keeper is filled with joy and surprises.
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