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when I read Emerson
just the same
as when hearing
Led Zeppelin
or watching
Breakfast at Tiffany's
just a bit of breathlessness,
a spasm of
echoes ringing bells
Cat,
reflecting back,
in my gasps,
about to burst into tears,
touch,
deeply,
I don't understand it.
It,
is in me,
just driving, on on, endlessly,
the motif, the Theme,
rhythm.
Pictures of dead people I know
are smiling and are so full of life
hanging on my wall
reminding me
to seize this day,
because it's not cliche,
and it won't come again.
 Apr 2015 allie wainwright
mt
I lay at peace
in this warm dawn sun.
Birds sing of love
before battle is begun.

Perfectly held
cocooned by folds of land
in the life line
of a universal hand.

But death mounts
the horizon with the sun;
violence, blood rises,
it will be begun.

I throw off the warmth,
of my bundled feather down;
kissed by a cool breeze
as I cast my gaze around.

Terror rains
from the sky on either side
with no escape
from a surging tide.



But yet, and yet, a bird still sings his love;
harmony, as if he will find it.
And there's a song in my heart,
but I will die behind it.

I will fight,
and I will fight,
so that I might live to find it.
I speak from experience,
Don’t love a person twice,
Only his appearance,
Could turn you into icy ice.

I speak these words,
Because they are lonely truths,
They stab like swords,
To show and not to soothe.

Believe me or not,
The love you feel is very tight,
Like a single knot,
But easily untied.

Only the one,
Can make you feel at ease,
But it is not to be the one,
Who easily release.

It is then when you know,
Who is the one who is truly worth,
When you ask questions like what and how?
And feel the entire Earth.

Again I say,
It is truly pain,
But endure another day,
Just right after the rain,

And there it is, the perfect sun.
Time might not help, but someone will and that's when you know he is the one.
I try to put my thoughts of you, this, us, whatever this is or isn't and how it makes me feel..I try to put all of it into words. I don't even care if they're beautiful or not at this point, I just want them to be in word from so I can clear the mental space.
But I'm starting to realize that the reason it won't happen, the reason I have no free mental space is because you have driven me to the point of a depressing, thrilling, painful, madness.
And I'm addicted to the slivers of blissful hope found buried within the shards of confusing misery you leave behind in my bed.
 Apr 2015 allie wainwright
Myriah
She wakes up
In the morning with a painful
Feeling in her soul,
It leaves her lost gone somewhere else
In the world.
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