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In the freezing cold,     blood rushes inwards.
Dance with me, move me     to be warm again.
12:30 - 25/06/17
State of mind: curious; deep thought..

Thoughts: from paradoxes - when affection is not received, the affected may become distant to their surroundings and begin to internalize the process of neglect. Distance is accepted when closeness is needed.

Questions: How can you give what you need?
 Jun 2017 Caitlyn Stone
kayla
5's
 Jun 2017 Caitlyn Stone
kayla
5's
1
2
3
4
5

I count things in 5’s

one cat
two cat
three cat
hula hoop
tote bag

My notes are organized Cornell style
but it can’t fill the void you left.

Light switch
one slipper
two slippers
lotion
candle

I’ve got my life organized down to the the minutes
but you aren’t in any of them.

Long distance.
We’ll see.
 Jun 2017 Caitlyn Stone
Renée C
I feel a pull in my chest;
an ache and a flutter
behind my sternum as if
the bird of my heart is straining
against the prison of my ribs
to be near you.
I don't blame it.
I crave you, too.
 Jun 2017 Caitlyn Stone
Lynne
in the darkest corner
of the darkest room
i sat in stillness
blending thoughts
of an aching memory
of your fine hair
and jasmine flowers
curled into your cupid's bow.
highlighting the small lip
and overpowering
and overshadowing
everyone with your glorious
light.
but now, you've become a faint mark
like watercolor, which has truly
begun to run.
the stark lines of your jawline
have become softer, and easier
to mold and meld into something new.
the sharp coldness of your blue gaze
has become more subdued
because you are so far from me
in body and in mind.
your happiness is something i desire
and yet, something i cannot bare to see.
for even in my stillness
your image moves me and pushes me
towards the edge of my capability.
but i love you so.
and i do believe i always will.
to the end of my time on this earth
that golden band,
which i wished and still wish to bestow
will never fade like those running colors
of our glorious and torturous memories.
I didn't even ask
To be your sun
Or your moon.

All I wanted
was to be
Your Sunday afternoons.

How many empty calendars spaces
I wasted,
Waiting for you.
We hurt,
thus we rant and vent,
until our throat reaches the rawness,
of our hearts.
But,
for the unlucky few,
words are not steady.
Telling is the equivalent to confronting.
And not a soul,
enjoys the irony and redness upon the face,
of bittersweet confrontation.

Why are we at this stage of uneasiness?
Why is our mind so free,
but our mouth trembles to speak?

Day by day,
Minute by minute,
Second after second,
my mind cannot just simply "think."
No.
My mind befriends itself.
Telling it all the joyous moments.
All the laughter I've shared with my loved ones.
How blessed I am to witness the sunshine of this life.
But you see,
my mind also
shares when it is confused.
Uneasy.
Maybe there is something to hide.

I plead to discover,
as to why I fear in blossoming in these emotions.
My mind has something to tell,
something colorful and wonderful to say..
but my lips will not dare to move.
For maybe,
I uphold confusion.
Am uneasy.
I have something to hide.

Do not be mistaken,
for I am a joyous soul.
My eyes glisten,
in a sense of staring up,
looking beyond.
For one day,
some day,
a sinless life.
The support,
it never lacks in excellence.
All ears and eyes to myself,
if I am in need.

This may only appease,
those who are close.
If your eyes are scrolling,
at this particular second,
then here is your answer.
I do not comprehend why my mind has befriended itself.
For yes,
I have befriended you.
My mind,
oh how it adores you.
But my lips,
will not let it slip.
So,
when you see my fingers gripped to a pencil.
My hand in furious motion,
just know,
my mind is also befriending the paper,
thus setting itself at ease.

You friend,
may not know every detail.
Every confused thought.
Every uneasy glimpse.
Or every hidden secret.
Perhaps I don't open easily.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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