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 Aug 2014 purple orchid
Hilda
The harder I try
All the more mistakes I make
Forgive me fam'ly
© Hilda  August 29, 2014   Seems like I keep making mistakes and want to do better, dear family.
I draw the hot bath
For you, my sweet goose bumped girl,
Your smile draws me in.
 Aug 2014 purple orchid
Fel
Composed: 2:56 A.M., 7-20-14*

Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I just woke up from a dream that I saw you in, but you never looked at me and it felt as if I was looking at a stranger and when I woke up I thought about how it feels as if years have passed since I've last spoken to you when in reality it has been weeks and I feel like I'm losing you and I can't quite remember how your eyes crinkle when you laugh or the exact shade of your blue eyes but I can remember how your smile literally made most of my days and to be painfully honest I've been missing you from day one and I just really want to see you but I feel August is just too far away and I wish I could call you to hear your voice just once, but I won't cause I don't want to annoy you. Anyways, love you. Sleep well.*


My thumb hovered over the send button,
But in the end I knew
You would feel uncomfortable
If I sent this to you

So I pushed the home button,
Locked my phone,
And once again attempted sleep
To see if I could dream of you again.
This was written over a month ago, and since then I have reconnected with this boy, but I just really love what I did here in the middle of the night.
Set sail in your ship
Away from the shoreline, to deep seas
Anchored to the past
Lift the burden too heavy, and sail away
If you could see me now,
you'd understand
the power of the mind,
titillating,
my raw imagination,
it's hard
not to spill
amorous ink
with me
feeling,
looking rigid
like this.
So kiss me paper,
loosen me up,
make me rise,
I want to use
big sensuous words
to describe
this heartfelt moment.
In the end
the lone survivor
comes to learn,
a bit too late,
what is his, and their
and our
ultimate fate.

He learns that he,
and all fallen
comrades
were merely
chess pieces
on God’s
well worn
playing board.

Some pieces are
made of
wood,
some are made of
iron,
others still,
made of
stone,

but, they all fall
in the end.

One will drown,
one will fall off
a cliff,
and break his
neck,
and yet another
will get ripped apart
and eaten
by a pack of
rabid wolves,

but they all fall
in the end.

And only God decides,
who, what, where
and why.


- by Mercurychyld
  Copyrights
Inspired by a movie about a group of men trying to survive a plane crash, in a snowed region.
If you're freely willing
to see your dreams grow root

take the honey grove route.

It's the name of a place
without a bee or a hive
where you arrive
if only you take a wrong drive

lose your way
on a forgetful day
to reach a space
of wide eyed face
where the children have never seen a car

or may be one or two
with wanderers like you
that once in a year
strayed this far
and to give their dreams a root

took the honey grove route!
was there this sunday, not on any map but would be forever with me.
I shoot meterorites
across the darkness,
found here
in my space!

Can you smell me,
the raw
burning ozone,
streaking,
flying
through
this empty place?
Can you.
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