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She could die any day.
Just tip-toe away.
                                                                But what would they say?
They still say she's okay.
                                                                      ...They don't say "please stay."
They cry when good men die.
They cry when they are scared.
They cry all the time.
They cry here.
They cry there.
So why?
                                                                                             Why?
Why for her,                                                               they don't cry?

Here she will fly                                                     between fire and sky,
                                                                                         in an ocean
her only air being devotion.
Life&Death; her only notion.
                                                                        Is it bad to wish for a potion?
A spell to make this spell go?
She may try so-,
                                                                                  but I just don't know.
Why?
                                                                                              Why?
                                                                                  Why can't they see?

The lost,
the falling,
she's calling
she gives them a sign,
she loses grasp of her life's line.
Why?
                                                                                              Why?
                                                                                  Why don't they cry?

Cry for her.
Care for her!
See her here!
                                                                                         Please..
                                                                                                   one tear.
Suppress her deepest fear.
Her pain is not mere.
She WILL fall,
if there is no bridge,
between the buildings in her mind.
She WILL tumble,
down,
if no one holds her hand,
and she get's left behind.
Save her.
Savor her.
For like this she will not last.
Deprived of what she needs,
internally she bleeds.
                                                                                             Cry
for just one day.
Prove to her,
she will be okay.
Teach her,
how to no be alone.
Love her,
don't leave her on her own.
                                                                                             Cry
Don't lie to her.
Don't act so refined.
She knows those lies,
she isn't blind.
And for once,
just for once,
when her thoughts have intertwined,
I beg of you,
I plead of you,
no one leave her behind.
comments? Hearts?
Can the sun be any brighter?
I may be engulf into the sky's bright ray.
My heart is so full I cannot have any more,
and so I shall love no more than what I do.
This is the ocean I hid inside.
This is the rabbit hole,
that sparks my every curiosities.
Can I fly any further?
I may implode without warning
My goosebumps may come right out of me,
and my heart, climb out my mouth.
This is the river to the hidden third path diverged
This is the forest I always get lost in,
that secretly points me to the answers.
Can I love?
If you were the saw to a magic box,
I'd be the one inside.
If you forgot the spell to make me whole,
I'd be fine just with you alone.
If you grew tired of my half-self,
i'd conceal it somehow,
long as you smile.
Because you,
you,
are the love of my life.

If you were gone,
I'd chase you.
If it seems too dramatic,
I beg of you,
notice the truth in these lines.
Look in the mirror,
and gaze as I do,
at the light you shine.
Because you,
you,
are a mystery,
even with all I know.
I just want someone to care.
To notice, when I'm not there.
To stay by my side.
To let me cry.
I don't want to be judged.
I just want to be loved.
I don't care how far,
I don't care if you've receded,
I just want to know
that I am needed.
It's not creepy.
Certainly not.
It's just odd,
to read what's been thought.
I love the imaginary,
who exists.
I love the birds,
and bees.
I love the sky,
and seas.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
Thinking about it,
I've come to notice.
You help me even now.
Because I don't know who you are,
I spend so much time thinking,
wondering,
contemplating elatedly,
to the point I don't even think,
about..
the world anymore.

All I care about it this beautiful,
wondrous,
ponderous,
distraction of mine.
And this image in my mind,
it may not be you,
but I may know some day.
This love is true.
This love is so much.
I don't even know what to do.
This love of mine,
I await.
I will wait.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
The world will pass me by,
and in the end..
I will have you,
and hold your hand.
The collected dust,
will tell a story.
True love does exists. You just have to be patient.
My hand and gripped hair
The threats?
"I CAN rip you out, I just CHOOSE not to."
Is is fear, despair, madness, loathe?
The answer is empty of meaning.
What is known would be ignored,
as all said seems true,
but fake.
Boundlessly vain.
silly,
worthless;
doubtful.
What am I looking for in this effort?

I know.
I see.
I hear.
I believe.
One thought twigs into another.
I even wonder if the ocean can breathe.
Breathe life into me.
Aliens don't exist,
but nightmares and demons do?
A problem,
unwanted.
A result,
unwanted.
An answer,
only a lie,
....
unwanted, unwanted, oh so unwanted.

I scream inside,
and every inner glass is shattered.
I yell,
"Notice of Insanity Uprising!"
They yell back,
"That's Life."
Upon those words I numb my mind,
I release my grip.
I let go of everything.
MY face: gone
MY body: gone
MY hope: gone gone gone
Anything and everything that was me leaves,
and my body becomes a cadaver.
Drifting side to side,
in and out.
It's more calm now though.
My mind is no longer driving me crazy.

For we have reached our destination.
this is the aftermath
here
sitting in my
dinghy of fools
three passengers
only.
me, myself and i
surrounded by
useless f#cked up
baggage
rowing furiously
in circles
on a sea
of stupid.

all cause
my words
in anger
cast
you
overboard
to swim with your
personal sharks.


would it help
if i threw you
a rope made
of heartfelt
apologies.

could you then
find your way back
sorry regret by sorry
regret.

so we can row together
toward  the coast of
mutual understanding....

can we get to there,
please?
 Apr 2014 Cliffy Buglione
KA
...in a world of vivid color
WE are running through the flickering screen
kissing your perfect lips
your perfect hair on my face
legs tangled
loving every inch of you

cut to scene ....

WE are holding hands as we walk
walking a beach in Mexico
drinking tequila  under the umbrella
shading our eyes from the sun

The time will happen in this world or another
You being perfectly imperfect You
me drinking too much tequila, writing and all hands

Audrey,  your timeless beauty
and me and my faults
will wait for the sun to shine



KT Mar 23, 2014
-------- 25,729,437--------
(give or take a few)
minutes in my life.
the number is profound.

but,

it's not that easy, to break a life down.

i'm sure there is a calculation, that covers the basics bits, work, eating, sleeping, abultions.

but,

to bring the moments to the minutes,
thats a vastly different thing.

how do you count the moments of brillance,
that burn bright on the horizon beyond and before.

those moments of pure kindness or blind and ****** ignorance that elicit change.

the joy of the moment,
the rage of a second,
the hours borrowed
in worry never yet, to be repaid.

how many minutes wasted,
or not fully tasted,
devoured to quickly.

those seconds we fumble,
in awkward silences,
or those we waste wanting more.

then the hours of breastbeating
or simply bleating.
are they lesser in importance,

than,

the days lost in thought,
or in grief,
time spent, begging for relief,
from a heart so, so, sore.

remember the weeks,

when,

we sent packing,
the fox or the bear, the lion and the tiger from fear's flimsy,
fragile door.

months of not belonging,
then the longing
and finally
the lounging & laughing,
when tickled to our core,

the tock of the clock,
when we
are too cold,or too hot,
or
just,
not quite right.

time,
that keeps ticking,
while,
we are sticking our noses, where
they are not wanted.

time spent watching from afar,
minutes of small talk,
hours of deep
and meaningful,
days
of young lust,
months
of expectancy,
years
of togetherness,
decades
of love.
a delineation
of seperateness,
eons,  
immemorial,
of eternity.

these are the times,
of my minutes,
i want
ciphered,  
into
the fabric of time.
the dog, strains against
the leash, tied to the
no parking sign.

all, quivering white
and caramel fur
docked tail, ears up,
eyes bright and
searching, searching,
for his alpha love.

water bowl, full,
next to him,
ignored.
eyes firmly set,
to the grocery store
door,
quivering, wriggling,
animated, anticipation.

every time, the door
swooshes open,
a double yap.
"i am here.""i am here."

doggy devotion,
denied by food health regulations, master inside,
but i am  here waiting,
still.
etude study#3
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