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Feb 2015 · 1.4k
"climb"
Brooke Pauley Feb 2015
i give it all to you
trusting that youll make
something beautiful out of me

i am so in love with you
there is no one else for me
will reagan
Feb 2015 · 298
trees
Brooke Pauley Feb 2015
he told me that he liked the trees,
he liked how they looked,
how they made him feel,
what they were.
so i tried to steal him the trees,
i would give you all the trees,
but while trying to steal one for you,
i fell in love with them,
and sat and loved them.
Feb 2015 · 313
how very
Brooke Pauley Feb 2015
how very selfish i am
for wanting to see the world
and being so utterly indifferent
to the one who made it.
Jan 2015 · 280
haiku #1
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
tell me, what's it like
to run constant alongside
my so lonesome mind?
Jan 2015 · 305
he is cut too
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
this world has cut me.
i stand looking at it,
wide eyed as the blood runs down from the wound.
world, have you betrayed me?
how could you do this to me?,
i hear myself ask. and as it hold the knife,
I hear it retort “he told you i would”.
and i look to him
and he’s the only one still there.
i feel sad still,
i really wanted him to be wrong about the world.
the goodness of it,
the potential of it.
but now i see he is right.
he's always been right.
And the world will not suffice.
eventually, it'll belong under his feet
Like all things.
So I grab his hand,
still saddened that the world would hurt me.
And crying,
I walk with him.
he doesnt say anything,
but i know
he understands.
I love him, but so sadly i walk with him.
And he knows the feeling all too well.

I’ve been awakened to a new chamber of his heart.
Jan 2015 · 421
cut
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
cut
they throw it around like it's a toy that can be replaced,
i forget what it's like to own a heart that's never been gashed.
what does it feel like to love without fear?
what is it like to care without hurting?
Jan 2015 · 333
perfection
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
our professor asked us
'what is perfection?'
silently, i thought of you.
he told us perfection is nothing but a rose
placed perfectly beneath the sun
On a random day
--Meaningless.
"perfection is *******",
and I thought of you.
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
me habéis llegado al alma. O acaso habéis estado en el fondo de ella?
Jan 2015 · 777
crazy boy.
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
we were a double entendre.

two different, too different.
short lived, but wildly so.
we smiled at things,
even from polarization.

we agreed on things,
even from separate extremities.

we laughed at the same jokes.
and we found each other palpable.

we didn't owe each other anything,
and we couldn't satisfy each other.
we were a brief ******.
and a good one.

we were a double entendre,
and ambiguous.
Enigmatic.

crazy boy, i happily remember you.
Jan 2015 · 340
lady in waiting
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
you look young today,
you see yourself in the reflection of the mirror.
as we sit, all too familiarly,
you christen yourself,
"lady in waiting".

we laugh even now,
at the things we couldn't change.
we talk of your wedding ring,
'who shall have it?'
'want it?'
relic of a failed marraige

i think of the night he locked you out,
you so cold without a coat.
we curse him and the moon that night,
mocking us as I swept you in my arms.

yesterday you fell three times,
just now you see fireflies blooming from my locket
and i steal armfuls of lilacs for you.
you accept them graciously,
but you let them fall to the floor.

the ambulance comes in an instant.
my lips startle yours,
as i lift you into back,
and kiss you goodbye.
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
"y si la vida es corta y no llega la mar a tu galera,
aguarda sin partir y siempre espera,
que el arte es largo y, además, no importa."

"And if life is short and the sea does not arrive to your galley,
still wait without parting and always trust,
that art is long and, moreover, doesn't matter"
Jan 2015 · 536
alone in a theater
Brooke Pauley Jan 2015
i saw a man.
older, with a slim physique.
he sat alone in a theater,
after the movie had ended.
the movie showed war,
the true war,
the action was gruesome.
and he sat,
hand to his chin.
alone in a theater.
and i wondered,
has this all been too real for you, man
alone in a theater?

— The End —