you left a massive impact on me.
i have scars of both the mental and physical variety from you.
i fell too hard and too fast.
why am i falling again?
why do i want to see you?
why do i want to apologize?
i hate that i miss you.
i hate that i think you're a monster.
i hate that you hate me.
i dreamt of the carnivals caravan
dreamt of the wild rose who dwelt there
enchanter of strange spells under
the quick moon flying in clouds high up
beyond fingertips reach
enchanter of rich tapestry within moonlight
of compassion's gentlest light
her sweet smiles embraces all
the caravan laid up roadside for the night
and she spread out her blanket
with her hoops she would spin the stars upon
with her hoops she would spin her magic and song
she picked a bead from her woven hair
and set it like a jewel in the center of my world
and with gentlest grin
did ask if i wished to be lost or found
knowing not which to be i let her choose
and wrapping the hoops round her
she spun the song of seasons feast
she wove the tale from fabric of starlight and roses
in the morning light
i awoke to the last carriage of the caravan
cresting distant hill like a the last piece of dream fading
i had been set loose like a strange ship on a strange sea
to find my destiny in the wild western lands
where a dark dusky angel would
take me into her song
where i would find a ship to set sail
for the lost edens tale
he doesn't add up.
he's like a nice problem with a twist.
just too negative.
sadly, someone already tried to figure him out.
to add him up.
so they took imagination out and made him perfect.
and although at this part in my academic career I can properly reduce √-25,
i'd much rather leave you imperfect.
Salty soldiers down my face,
How you get the best of me;
When my heart begins to race,
When I can no longer see...
Flowing overseas again,
You leave in wake a warmer trail;
You turn my mind to sin,
As my heart begins to fail..
You leave your way onto the ground,
You leave me as a way to say hello;
When nobody else is around,
Who cares enough to know?
Another walks in your footsteps,
As your rifle clicks and pounds;
Sticky blood along your neck,
As the shell hits the ground...
My friend shared with me this poem he wrote