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19.7k · Feb 2014
Dreamer
Ian Cairns Feb 2014
For centuries philosophers have speculated the role sleep plays in society
But it was not until the 1950s that sleep woke up in academia
And today sleep studies show what dormant minds really look like
Information about our rest we've never seen before
However, I've always understood the importance of bedtime
You see my parents taught me that sleep and love are soul mates

My mom
She's the sleeper
She loves to sleep
She cuddles up on any piece of furniture in my house and snoozes for hours
Never views a sitcom past the first commercial break when she's tired
And she's okay with that
Dad never lets her drive on road trips when night falls
Preferring his sleeping beauty tucked safely in the passenger seat
Their hands meet as she lets the stars serenade her to slumber
While he anchors his left hand on the steering wheel
Thanking his lucky stars for his real life princess

My dad
He's the snorer
He loves to snore
He roars like a lion on his love seat and naps for hours
Never views a sitcom past the second commercial break when he's tired
And he's okay with that
Mom never lets him sleep alone too long though
Keeping his nose plugged strong enough to signal for bedtime
They both stand together as he lets her guide him to slumber
While she ushers her left hand around his back
Thanking her lucky stars for her own prince charming

Now my parents call me the dreamer
And I sure do love to dream
It seems my parents are textbook role models for me
Because when you live inside a fairytale for far too long
Your reality becomes an endless stream of fantasies
Your expectations are exceptionally out of context
Strictly written for poetic lines in picture books
Never meant to be held
Never meant to be felt
Only meant for spines stuck on rosewood shelves

My parents call me the dreamer
And boy I love to dream
I believe in creating the unthinkable
And when you live inside a fairytale for far too long
Nothing is fictional
You picture a life with storybook endings
Praying the author never runs out of ink
You crown each syllable the king of the moment
Treating each page like royalty
And I've always been okay with that

So when I asked my mom when she knew she fell in love
She spoke of an instant of unadulterated emotion
She said she knew instantly
She didn't need to sleep on it
When I asked my dad when he knew he fell in love
He just smiled back at me
He must have known instantly
He didn't even speak on it
So when I ask myself when I might fall in love
I can't help but smile
Think of fairytale titles
Mile wide love notes in all shapes and styles
And a moment where my reality sets my hopes on fire
And I won't need to dream about it anymore
13.4k · Jan 2014
My Own Yellow Brick Road
Ian Cairns Jan 2014
I have these scars on my elbows
They're from a long time ago
And I never really appreciated their protrusion until now
Pretending to prefer unblemished skin
But when I was 10 and still believed in Superman
I had a tendency to ride my bike with stuntman speed
Forgetting about the frivolous concerns that consumed me
Hoping my kryptonite never crept up from underneath sidewalk bumps
Flipping my ambition over handlebars
Leaving the pieces of my reflections painted crimson along the asphalt
Scattered like hand-picked petals of an ill-advised ascetic
I am me, I am not, I am me, I am not
So I always wore my helmet as a precautionary measure
It contained my thoughts from running straight through my skull
And becoming neighbors with the pavement
But I never wore my elbow pads
They collected dust beside the waste bin
Replacing security for sincerity
I improved my flexibility while losing some skin
And that was a trade off I was willing to make at the time
I finally felt alive
I was invincible on my bicycle
The sidewalk my only bully
The summer breeze my only friend
And at the time I never realized what it meant to be vulnerable
But those bike rides were the closest I would get
I was fixated on fitting in around my classmates
Accumulating fake friends by
Ripping insincerities out of my esophagus
And stapling them to my forehead
I stole my own identity
Morphing my puzzle piece and jamming it into the jigsaw
Claiming to be the missing link everyone was searching for
But what am I searching for?

I was lost on my own yellow brick road
I had two left feet and no right way to go
I stopped dead in my tracks
Hoping the soles of my feet would soak in the golden stones while
Singing Dorothy's hymn like spoken sin
I just want to fit in
I just want to fit in
I just want to fit in

Wondering if that was loud enough for Oz to hear me
I didn't have any magic slippers
And this situation was twisting towards witchcraft
I'm not even sure Oz can help me
You see these requests were a tall order for a tiny man
Who wore masks just like me
Oz and I were anonymous
Oz and I were synonymous
Using smoke and mirror tactics to terrorize the innocent
When in reality we were only playing tricks on ourselves
Hiding behind perfectly sculpted ****** expressions
And make-believe manuscripts
Doing basic impressions of manufactured mannequins
Out in the real world
I really needed to speak with the Scarecrow
The Tinman, the Lion, and Dorothy too
And investigate their stresses with relentless pursuit

The Scarecrow would tell me
Wisdom is wasteful for those
Without a strong appetite for improvement
But sometimes common sense can lead
The most sensible person astray
The Tinman would tell me
Compassion is constructed for
Tender hands to hold
But sometimes empathy can leave
The most charitable person betrayed
The Lion would tell me
Courage can be critical in
Times of distress
But sometimes vulnerability can make
The most sensitive person brave
And Dorothy would tell me
Home is paradise
Wrapped in picket fences
But sometimes a terrifying trip can bring
The most wary person escape
And suddenly it would occur to me
That strengths are just solid scars
We have confidence to display on our sleeves
And perfection can only permeate the souls willing to recognize
That faults shine golden too
So from here on out I'm placing my masks alongside my elbow pads
Both collecting dust beside the waste bin
Replacing security for sincerity
Finally embracing the scars on my skin
Now that is a trade off I'm willing to make
Because I want to feel alive again
9.7k · Dec 2013
Strength
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
I was raised by a man with broad shoulders and a gentle heart
A sign that my strengths would reside above my waistline
I learned to stand up straight at an early age
Not necessarily to improve my posture like my father had intended
But I believed looking into his eyes would give me an all-access pass to manhood
And by double digits I wanted to reciprocate his masculinity
Nothing would have harmonized my earlobes like the words- You're a man now son

As I grew taller, I finally met the spheres into my father's soul
And much to my surprise, they screamed a sadder melody than I had anticipated
They leaned on crutches, crippled by societal catastrophes
Their stories- captives to cultural constraints
They stared at me blindly as if my presence was backbreaking
My heart was crushed as my father's shoulders shook
And the strengths I once desired were now fossilized by fear

To be a man -society grunts so effortlessly- is to be masculine
And since masculinity and success are socially synonymous
Obviously, success cannot be established without perfection or aggression or oppression

To be a man is to be unbreakable
Because the slightest wrinkle in armor alludes to inability
And combat is unavoidable regardless of swordsmanship

To be a man is to be rigid
Because being fixed in outdated traditions is far easier
Than challenging for innovative conditions

To be a man is to be emotionless
Because passion is pathetic
Sensitivity strikes the community as instability, not authenticity

To be a man is to be strong
Because strength means maintaining control and independence
Not establishing dependability or acceptance

Masculinity still towers over little boys just like me
Presenting textbook answers for real world problems
Masculinity is a skyscraper imposing its will on innocent civilians
By replacing sunlight with systematic shadows
And ripping shooting stars right out of the sky
Masculinity forms internal thunderstorms harboring havoc
For individuals that need more than rainfall for adequate growth
We are not shrubbery photosynthesizing our thoughts into energy
We are not born to throw our feelings into sealed vaults
Our genuine intentions deserve to be delivered on silver platters

Gender roles are one way streets clogged by oncoming traffic
Mirrored headlights approaching complete chaos
There are no maps to point you down the right path
There is no right path
There is no right path
Only roadblocks inhibiting you from any type of progress
Life is meant to be traveled on unmarked ground
Where men and women alike regulate the steering wheel regardless of society's traffic laws
And I long for the day when my son or daughter looks up to me
The day when my son or daughter stands up straight
Looks me in my eyes and sees a portrait painted differently
A soul actualizing strength, not personifying ingenuity
7.4k · Jul 2013
Cerebric Tyranny
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
This is for the outspoken racists
The short-sighted chauvinists
The one-sided misogynists
And every avid supporter of any form of intolerance

I think it's time I give you a piece of my mind
Allow me to crack through my cranium and you can
Extract whichever lobe of my brain you find suitable to fix your mental feebleness

Take my frontal lobe, I beg you because
Your so called conscientious thoughts
Permanently belong in the dumpster
Your brain flies confederate flags at half mast
As a constant reminder that even if
The South doesn't rise again you can still rest
Knowing you wave ignorance blissfully in the air

Or maybe you should have my parietal lobe
Since your manipulation of information is highly suspect
I suspect you've placed bigotry and hostility under solid ground
Equipped with enough racial slurs and misogynistic remarks
To blow up this whole town
Homegrown nouns and verbs conducting your own personal weapon of mass destruction
Corrupting the ears that welcome your mushroom clouds

Then again, your occipital lobe is out of whack too
Considering whether gray clouds paint the sky or
Royal waves reflect golden rays
All you ever see is black or white, gay or straight
Wrong or right, hate and hate
And I hate to break it to you
But you are blind to the beauty before us all
Your eyes fail to focus in on how we all
Lose scarlet plasma to paper cuts
Gain white hair and hardened scars
And share copper casket homes six feet deep

I almost forgot about your temporal lobe
That needs an entirely new design
Because it seems as though through all of this outrage
You can't process the filth in your mind
Like the smell of your own rotten attitude
Escapes your nostrils and pollutes the openness around you
Preventing any genuine intention the air it needs to breathe

Your entire brain is a train wreck
You need professional intellectual injections
Red pen corrections that can transform your neural network
Into a well-oiled machine fueled by tolerance
Overflowing with premium petroleum enhanced with high grade sensitivity to diversity

I want your synapses to fire positive discussions
Rather than recreate cerebric tyranny
I want your gray matter to mind its manners
To render exceptional positions
So your point of view refuses to point fingers
I want your prejudices pressure washed so far down
Your head's highway that they resort to becoming full-time pedestrians
I want your ability to communicate eliminated unless
You annihilate the venom from your vocabulary

But the choice is yours
You're voice is yours
And I won't take it from you
This is not a debate nor a dispute over your vernacular
Hate speech is undeniably your native language
And unfortunately you own the right to be as wrong as your words allow you to be
Instead this is merely a message that I hear your hostility
A not so subtle reminder that your narrow-mindedness is nauseating
And this society has enough deadly diseases to deal with
To drill your acceptance defect straight through your skull
But please feel free to take any part of my mind
And find the time to perform your own lobotomy
So maybe then you'll understand
That intolerance has no place in anyone's anatomy
Ian Cairns Feb 2014
To finish anything in entirety requires a full circle- and goodbye is a picky eater. Good is the pieces of pie fully enjoyed already- don't forget the fingertips good. The ones licked crisp and clean from the plasticware every time. While bye remains the uneaten slices spoiling silence in the kitchen. Crumbs too stubborn to move along, to move anywhere at all. Notice these slices never once greeted each other on a dinner plate- and there is no place for distance during dessert.

2. Goodbye is invisible ink scribbled too quickly for certainty. Proper sendoffs deserve the type of visibility that billboards form. So if you have the audacity to send seven letters my way disguised as our final embrace- I will unwrap your formality, like 5am Christmas morning, and pretend I'm on the naughty list. Hidden messages lack a sense of transparency that leaves only second guessing and farewells should need no crystal *****.
Goodbyes are as good as guesswork- and we are not fortune tellers.

3. Goodbye implies loss or rejection, but well wishes are meant for times
when loss is undeniably absent. Wishing wells bathe separation with good intentions- each copper coin anointed an underwater masterpiece.
While goodbye addresses detachment with partial reflections, splitting waves too strict for clarity. So all I see are the ripples of me spread too thin, the pieces of me scattered in every direction. Goodbye wishes no one well.

4. Goodbye is simply one word. Goodbye is not naturally destructive. Goodbye is no vocal cord villain.
Words are neither inherently good nor bad because we ascribe their significance, but evidence suggests a one word farewell serves innocent ears unjust death sentences.

5. The moment you allow I love you to skydive from your tongue, the word goodbye steals the parachutes mid-launch causing fatal free fall to artificial grass your hands never actually planted. This land is lunar rock rare- desolate when day breaks.
Goodbye is not fertilizer for greener pastures- rather an open invitation for wildfire to reduce the cosmos to ashes.

6. Endings are inevitable and sometimes quite necessary. And I'm not suggesting we prolong foregone conclusions. But our parting words need not necessarily be regrettable. Goodbyes are often stressed in tragic spectacles only designed for Broadway stages and sometimes all that's needed
is a genuine platform to stand on to say something like-- I'll miss you or I'm not ready for this or I can't do this anymore.


7. Goodbye is not a last resort.
Last resorts lead to final destinations you never come home from and you were never home, you were never home for me, you were always goodbye. Goodbye was your one way ticket to paradise, the kingdom your words worshiped and call me a traitor if you must, but the paradox you fundamentally found comfort in is tyranny trapped in one breath.
And that's never been comforting enough for me to believe in, never been real enough for me to hold.
Goodbye is sweet sorrow- one hollow word that makes your smile hurt.
It's solid rain on sunny days, stolen hearts on lay away. It's two syllables that were forced to hold hands that were never ever friends to begin with.
Goodbye is an oxymoron- and it will never justify your warm hello.
3.9k · Jul 2013
Perfect Timing
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
It's getting late tonight.
Big Ben's hands have been twisting viciously for hours
And somehow ended up around my neck.
They say timing is everything and lucky for me
The moment I laid eyes on you all the time
In your hourglass figure froze in my mind.
I want to start things off right because
When I saw you from across the room I wanted to get to know every
Millisecond of your history so that the mysteries in your smile became
My new reason to appreciate antiquity.
I can be your ancient artifact.
In fact, I'll be whatever you want me to be so long as it doesn't involve me
Trapped in revolving doors that prevent me from your proximity.
I need to know the inner workings of yourself shine as brightly as your physical presence
Because you might be pleasantly surprised to find out my genuine intentions.
I want to get close to you.
Break through the refurbished armor you fundamentally meshed to your being
In order to prohibit Cupid's bow from poking holes in your aorta.
Understand I have every intention of keeping your core in tact
But I need to get to know your heart to see if we're a match.
Your struggle humbles me- You're my Atlas.
With ten delicate fingers protecting all the world's wonders
Cuddling Mother Nature as your own new born.
I want to know your mind can dance as elegantly as your body can.
Because my brain's signing up for ball room dancing classes
And could use a well-versed partner for the Waltz.
And there's nothing more beautiful than two minds
Marching reciprocally to the tune of one drummer's heartbeat.
Let me meet the symphony responsible for your eloquence.
So my ears know where to discover your reckless intelligence when I'm losing mine.
I hope you have a sweet tooth and never resort to shortcuts.
Because when you've passed the point of no return but decide to venture back
All I can offer you is heartfelt motivation and handfuls of Hershey kisses.
I know I may sound foolish and I'm sure the odds are against me.
Due to countless attempts where men request
Bedroom conquests that leave little room for imagination.
And it's hard for me to disregard your reservations
Given the nature of your past encounters with individuals who'd rather
See none of you with the lights off than all of you in the spotlight.
So let me approach this conversation differently-
I want to be your heart's only conqueror.
Pick open your cardiac locker with my sincerest approach
And approach you in the kind of way that eliminates the word No from your vocabulary.
Let's become Grandfather clocks and tick tock together through the end of time
Approaching eternity splendidly through clockwork.
We can redesign what it means to be inherently inseparable
If you allow me to frequent your grudges and pitch a tent on your battle scars.
We'll indulge in witty dialogue about your inner thoughts to demonstrate
My ability to take you seriously while giving your lips upward mobility.
I want your soul on speed dial in case of emergency.
Because if I need a saving grace, your unparalleled energy is my only hope.
Please, let me see the alarms explode in your eyes as they have in mine.
We're running out of time.
3.3k · Nov 2013
Harmony
Ian Cairns Nov 2013
On forgiving former loves-

I understand your worry for uncertainty
It consumed you
Emerged as an ideal that you could not abandon
So you abandoned me instead
And maybe abandonment is a strong word
But I'm a strong man and I finally have a grasp on this
A clenched fist gripping empathy, not animosity

I understand your intentions weren't reckless
But a blinded truck driver can't avoid oncoming traffic too long
And accidents still design destruction
No matter how sorry the driver is after the fact
And sorry is much appreciated but still neglects the fact that
Heart brakes don't stop collisions, they construct them

I understand your past problems peaked into the present
And interrupted our intimate conversations
I had no problem erasing the demons you carried
To carry your baggage to the nearest trash can
To make room for our own difficulties
But I know attacking these issues alone was your preference
And I admire an inspired inspector of treacherous ground

I understand your passion wasn't illuminating
Our relationship's mansion anymore
Your embers resembled smothered ashes on love's battlefield
Your heart- a committed commander to Independence
The sovereign state selected to attack happy couples
But I won the battle and the war this time
Because my troops are resilient for commitment

I understand your calendar didn't coexist with mine
Still I appreciate your treated tenderness
Your existence improved my experience
Your love surrendered waving white flags
Which I greeted at first reluctantly
But over time I've come to recognize
The importance of self-harmony
3.1k · Jan 2014
Soul Mate Science Test
Ian Cairns Jan 2014
Attention class:
There's been a shift in our syllabus
There are some questions on my mind that warrant a new lessonplan: Does true love exist?
I will admit lately I've hypothesized that it's merely just a myth
Some wishful thinking from romantic half-wit heretics
So I'm assigning a soul mate science test
A pop quiz prophecy that could bind two of us together forever
Proving true love is suited for scientific vindication
If you respond to each question honestly
One trusty staple is capable of uniting this loose leaf love
Depending on your lead-based expressions
And their smudge-marked impressions
So please put your notebooks down
And pick your pencils up
Let's begin:

1. Is the beauty you possess easily represented in the thoughts you express?
Provide an ample sample size of your logic to suggest your loveliness works wonders.
2. Given that the fastest manned aircraft reached 4500 mph
If you spiraled down from the heavens at 9.8 m/s²
How long would it take for you to shatter record speed
And recognize that my arms are open to being your landing pad?
3. If your failures colored red and successes tinted blue
Became marbles piled high in mason jars
Would you let me embrace your entirety in the most worthy shade of purple?
4. Skin, rarely remembered, is the human body's largest *****.
Without caution, show me that your brain and heart
Are eager to become the king and queen of your anatomy.
That your organic vastness can infiltrate others' flesh majestically.
5. Think carefully. Who was the last man you kissed?
Are his lips worth enough for you to dismiss
A potential chance at creating unending bliss?
6. True or False: You would lie to me to spare a hurtful truth.
Provide evidence that you are comfortable revealing the undisputed details of your personal journal
Unraveling the spools of your most mysterious fibers.
7. Disprove Heartbreak Theory.
Show your work with mild-mannered mannerisms and sentimental illustrations.
Use crayons or colored pencils to emphasize your best intentions.
8. Chemistry is the study of the properties of matter.  
Using the periodic table of elementary emotions
Describe what matters most to you.
Remember to cite your sources of inspiration.
The inner workings of your engine that fuel your fondest explorations.
9. Fill in the blank spaces between my fingertips with your tenderness.
Is it a perfect fit?
If not, describe the characteristics possibly prohibiting this grip.
10. Cells are the smallest units of life.
Draw a diagram dissecting the little pieces of you
That belong in my possession at all times.
Include both strengths and vices.
Exhibit a sense of self-awareness that I can mimic
When I'm stuck inside my quicksand mind.

And one final reminder:
Remember to print your name legibly on the front page.
Failure to do so will result in catastrophe.
An unidentified masterpiece resulting in agony for you and I.
Practically reversing the critical proofs that your pen just described.
So let my eyes scan your signature with methodical joy.
And the curves of your cursive ink lines can become my mind's strongest ally.
Let me know you're willing to be known.
Because I need to know you're alive.
2.8k · Jul 2013
Blind
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
I think I'm going blind.
I'm under the impression you've disappeared.
That you're gone for good.
That you've eliminated yourself from my retinas in order to escape my mile wide stare.
That you've constructed homes under tombstones hoping I'd mistake you for
A box of under-appreciated skeletal remains
Because all you've ever wanted is to be dead to me.
Like you wanted my eyes to forget about their day job and resort to conceptualized adultery
Because God forbid I commit to an honest day's pay.
I've never intentionally visualized imaginary fabrications.
But the truth is, my eyes do everything but tell the truth.

1. My eyes write monotonous picture books with your face plastered on every single page
Just to recreate your physical beauty time and time again
So the world knows your look tops my mind's best seller list.

2. My eyes climb mountain tops and skinny dip in stormy seas
Because sometimes crazy is the only way I can get you to look at me.

3. My eyes fly hot air balloons carried by the echoes of your soft spoken sentences
As if exhaust pipes could spew such sweet nothings into the night sky.

4. My eyes invade foreign lands with every intention of burning down
Prehistoric villages and discovering your secret hideaway because I too
Want to know how it feels to savagely destroy former sacred territory.

5. My eyes struggle out of bed every morning.  Not even
Three shots of espresso can perk my eyes up enough
To allow the radiation you still give off enter my pores.

I think I'm going blind.
Or maybe I just can't see straight.
Or be straight up with you and tell you how it takes every part of me
To not gauge my own eyes out for betraying the rest of my body.
It takes every part of me to admit my misjudgments spawned the downfall of it all.
Because I told you I saw the two of us trekking through unfamiliar lands
With each stride another step towards our destiny.
Because I told you I saw something in your eyes
That gave mine the ability to smile.
Because I told you I saw us redefining what infinity
Looks like to the senseless visionary.
But my eyes don't tell the truth.
I'm going blind.
2.7k · Dec 2013
Silent Speeches
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
I'm speechless
That's my approach as you approach me
And usually I'm too focused on finding the perfect words
To penetrate the simple space I provide
So when beautiful girls intentionally invade my atmosphere
My need for speech is satisfied
Your beauty speaks sufficiently for two
So while I'm struggling for oxygen, I hope you recognize
Your presence is all I've ever needed to breathe easily

I'm stuck
Between unexpressed elegance
And helplessness
My mouth is screaming out
But frozen completely shut
I'm worried my compliments
May be complications
That my suggestions
Might suppress my objective here

We typically rely on our words
To settle the score
As if you and I are in overtime
Of a tie ballgame
Looking for phrases to frame the scoreboard
With an absolute victor
But I was hoping that you'd be willing to join forces
To break through the proverbial force field
That prohibits rivals from overthrowing obstacles
Because I've always believed the input overpowers the outcome

What if it were possible
To eliminate our speech
So our ears could erase the need to draw conclusions
We don't etch our words in pencil
Our words are enunciated in permanent marker
Brutally beating through our eardrums
Rhythmically reminding us
That silence can be more sweet sounding than any set of syllables

All I know is I'm hell-bent on remaining a straight shooter
My arrows will always be designed for the bulls-eye
But lately I've been questioning my targets
They haven't been painted red and white for all the world to see
They've been camouflaged by constricted communication
Secretly searching for statements that haven't met the airwaves yet
So I'd much rather absorb your definite thoughts
Than accept your remarks as absolute
  
The truth is
I'm not sure
What needs to be said.
The syllables I've learned to form
Don't apply to situations where
Words remain inherently absent.
And too often we force our hand
To make phrases appear
Where they don't belong.

But something about
Silent speeches is appealing to me.
Because the power in your eyes reduce
The need for any type of sound.
And the shock waves your steps make
As you inch closer to mine
Create the sweetest melodies.
So all I will tell you is this:
Let's leave words out of this.
2.5k · Jan 2014
I See You
Ian Cairns Jan 2014
I see you

I've seen those eyes before
Drowning in patched-up paddle boats
With promises of tomorrow slipping down your face
Like saline shipwrecks fleeing harbor
And greeting the ocean floor with damaged handshakes
And now you're hopeless
Focused on could have been's and maybe one day's
Knowing one day
Swelled up storm clouds
Could slide through your cheek bones
Like sunshowers preventing your skyline parades
But I see you still searching for rainbows
Covering your face with two handfuls of imagination
Daydreaming of days where technicolor dreamcoats
Become wrapped around your soul
Like tuxedos for the bold

I've seen those arms before
Deafeated willow branches in the moonlight
Rebellious to rise upright
And now you're tired
Only fired up when your flesh
Converts to kindling on a campfire
Building sparks that shimmer for seconds
When your light deserves a lifetime
But I see you still inclined to shine brightly
Trying to assign meaning to your life with two inspired limbs
That can freely build bridges or climb mountaintops
Clinging onto hope with sturdy fists
Exploring the peaks of your potential

I've seen those legs before
Tattered toothpicks on prom night
Frozen in stage fright on the dance floor
Pressing muted prayers with each footstep
Into creaky floorboards waiting for silence to ensue
And now you're nervous
You're certain those two left feet can't possibly find the rhythm
So your shoes are the victims of bashfulness
Fearing one false step will uproot your jitterbugs
And place them alongside the butterflies in your stomach
But I see you still owning your insecurities
Because you know you're alive just fine

I see you
You are who I envisioned you to be
I see you
Brushstrokes of imperfections shaded in perfectly
I see you
It's more than just your typical hello
It's a phrase for all of us to speak solely with our souls
It can make you feel at home at the center of your bones
When all your hope is lost and there's no where left to go
So when I greet you
Listen carefully
This is a reminder that your eyes can be thunderous
Your arms can be victorious
And your legs can be ambitious
Your presence is necessary for this discussion
And your essence is accepted here
Let me speak your spirit into existence
Seeing is believing
And believe me
I see you
2.3k · May 2013
Camouflage
Ian Cairns May 2013
So we soldiered on
Because the lives we led were held on battlefields.
We trudged onward
But it felt like we were stuck there forever
Amidst the crossfire.
Dodging make believe bullets
That whistled sweet melodies to our ears.
We were camouflage.
Trekking undetected
Through the world.
But the war is over.
A few casualties still unaccounted for
On the bloodied floors.
Whatever happened to no man left behind?
2.2k · Dec 2016
On Burning Bridges
Ian Cairns Dec 2016
We would sneak on your rooftop during every thunderstorm
Watch raindrops kiss our flannels closer  together before we knew just how powerful the clouds could be

Lightning cracked
And just like that
It's Wednesday morning
This ceiling fan drowns out that wet pitter patter as I sit up in bed
Estimating how much water these bodies can hold
I tell myself the rain here settles down better than I do

I close my eyes
Pretend every droplet becomes another letter you sent for me
Pretend my silence now is just as deafening as my silence then
And the skies rip open
Your voice drips down my window pane onto my carpet
Asks me one last time for an answer

So I just want you to know
When we grabbed our hearts and became the flood
I thought we would be free
This nefarious rubble is all that's left
And now you're gone

I haven't slept much since I left
Most nights I stand at my window and wait for the wind to greet me
If I stand close enough, I can spot the stream behind my bedroom here
The sound it makes at night frightens me
2.1k · Dec 2012
Marathon Man
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
A wise man once told me that exercise is essential to a healthy life
But do the laps you've done in my head make me a marathon man?
Because I certainly do not feel healthy.
This cannot be healthy.
I could run for days on end to try and catch up to you
But I don't have the endurance for that.
I don't have the time to be your marathon man.
2.1k · Dec 2012
Lineage Lottery
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
Fortunate to be
   **A
part of such a
     Mandatory setting
         In which unparalleled
           Love and acceptance leave me
              Yearning for more
Ian Cairns Nov 2013
I woke up this morning with a strange sensation
One in which I've never experienced before.
You see, I've been an optimist since the first day I can remember
So, you'd be surprised to hear that this morning I jumped out of bed half-heartedly
With nothing but a frown framed on my head.
My smile migrated to the part of town where thunderstorms organize chaos.
The slums that build up suspicion on dishonest interpretations
Like cardboard stepping stones laid across twin towers
Waiting for you to make one false move to your demise.
Making my quest to rid the world of adversity an uphill climb.
So on my way to foreign lands, I'll be keen to point out some observations
That my adversaries so effortlessly use against me
In an attempt to create a more balanced divide.

1. But you just drank out of that glass, it can't be half-full!
Well, sirs and madames, I do declare your awareness
Of my quenched thirst is rather scientific.
However- if you'd allow me a refill of your finest ale
I would appreciate your hospitality.
You see- I come from the mentality that everyone should drink until he or she covets.
Whether that be the midpoint of the glass or ten times over
My worries pay no mind to where the liquid lies.
I'm much more concerned that everyone tries as many beverages as desired upon.

2. You're far too idealistic. You don't live in the real world!
In fact- you are mistaken kind friends!
I do indeed live in the same world as you do
Creating mistakes in ways we all do.
However, unlike hardy drill sergeants
Who require unanimity in motion
I prefer to march to a different tune.
One where petty mishaps are embraced as they cross the finish line
As if the faulty foot prints left behind are our soul's signatures.

3. You are so happy. You must have all the answers!
Guess again my friends, that is the farthest from the truth.
Truthfully, my focus includes healthy doses of impartial reflections
So I can stay present on current intentions without foggy mental actions
Clouding my space with thoughts on nothing more than speculation.
Although my desire to reach Einstein's heights is ever-present
I understand the importance of staying mindful
Being incredibly comfortable erasing an impressive chalkboard
When it becomes too messy.

4. You are so nice, you must not hate anything!
Ah, wouldn't that be pleasing!
But, even I have negative feelings towards some things.
For instance, my hatred is provoked by negativity.
I hate the word hate and I hate that others resort to such awful actions so easily.
I understand that circumstances provide the opportunity for conflict to arise
But is it necessary for situations to instantly become awry?
I'm under the impression that hostility can be halted hastily
With honest consultations between any clashing parties.

5. You seem so content, do you ever have a bad day?
Uncommon to popular belief, my emotional responses do not always inflict joy into my veins.
It's funny because when using my strengths, sometimes I still trip on my weaknesses.
Sometimes I always lie sleepless on the wrong side of the bed.
Sometimes I always stay hopeless on the strong side of my head.
It's funny because I wouldn't want it any other way.
Sometimes the only thing we need is a reminder of the better days.
Because what's the meaning of life without the struggles we've gone through?
It's funny because my bad days are my best days too.
1.6k · Dec 2013
Cold Case (Extended)
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
9-1-1, What is your emergency?
I seemed to have lost my sense of urgency
I froze
Which is funny, because undoubtedly
You used to be the one cold as ice
I sat there
My body solidified above the concrete
But my faults began spilling out from my very being
Becoming a temporary repair for the fault lines along the road
9-1-1, What is your emergency?
The operator mimicked her opening line
With remarkable consistency
But my ears are not the problem here
I've always been a good listener
You told me that every now and then
And although I interpreted her question rationally
It was your final farewell that still had me perplexed
My breathe walked with you as you departed
Mostly due to your uncanny way with words
You used your utterances as building blocks
Crafting such a painful path with your magnificent mouth
Your condolences were candy-coated consolation prizes
Awarding my sincerity halfheartedly
And this heartbreak is my podium now
So while I lean on it willingly
Raising fate above my head as my only trophy
Know that I'm struggling with my acceptance speech
I've always had trouble wording my verbage
And expressing my sensations efficiently
So bear with me while I materialize this message

9-1-1, What is your emergency?*
Dispatch sounds distressed at this point
And I'm desperate for a proper resolution
So I try to recollect my mental resources
And muster up the ability to announce my anecdote properly
In order to explain my crisis precisely
And what comes next is nothing
My thoughts hovered around my mouth
But lacked any sort of volume
Thus remaining a mystery to the operator
And typically I turned to you in these situations
When my words became my worst nightmares
You see, you always knew what to say
You always responded with world class precision
And I need an expert's advice every now and then
But since you fled the scene
Fearing the certainty of an imaginary apology
I struggled with summing up my situation
I've been attacked, please help me
Finally I mustered up the energy to form
Sounds similar enough to that phrase
Close enough so this woman could send me
Someone with the proper credentials and
Experience for such misconstrued circumstances
The detectives arrived and investigated the scene
Doing their due diligence while I laid motionless on the pavement
They looked for clues
Studied for anything that could lead them to you
But I guess my words weren't grounded in truth
And although I knew only one suspect remained at-large
They carried on with no substantial leads or possible breakthroughs
The only arrest that occurred
Was the false imprisonment of my heart in yours
There was no bail set and parole will likely be denied
What a deadly criminal at large
This is a repost from an earlier poem I had written... I did some editing and came up with this. Let me know what you think!
1.6k · Jul 2013
Tongue Tied (10w)
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
What can I say?

I'm stuck
between unexpressed elegance
& helplessness.
1.5k · Dec 2012
NightTime
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
Darkness creeps in
A reminder to us all
Not everything shimmers in sunlight
1.5k · Oct 2013
Surrender
Ian Cairns Oct 2013
Impatiently parading the shoreline
Like waves persistently mimicking infantry
I must seem lost at sea
My feet resemble war heroes
Dirtied by the summer soot
Yet too proud to surrender
Millions of tan granules have met my fleet
But I'm too proud to surrender

What happens when the storm hits?
Comfortably crushing the paper mache blockades
I installed throughout my days here
The cozy road home is falling apart
My opportunity to evacuate shrinks as the shoreline invades
Yet I'm too proud to surrender
Like a captain of a sinking ship
I'm too proud to surrender
1.5k · Aug 2014
Toolbox
Ian Cairns Aug 2014
In case you forgot
that toolbox heart
you left out
has yet to return home
1.5k · Dec 2013
Delusion
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
Realistically
this delusion
could become
our source of inspiration
but chronologically speaking
our chronicles
could never combine
because destiny penned
a rhyme where I'd say
goodbye too swiftly
1.4k · Dec 2013
The Horizon
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
Your story
presumes
cobalt casualties
while my rendition
paints
silver linings.

Even storm clouds
resist temptation
when sunshine
invades
the horizon.
1.4k · Apr 2013
Words in Action
Ian Cairns Apr 2013
Wear your words.
Let all hear the fatigue you bare.
Paint portraits with phrases.
Sound symphonies with imagery
that your idioms decree.
Establish edifices with nouns and verbs
so magnificent that none disturb.
Make your mind match your mandates.
Engage in your expressions proudly.
1.4k · Jul 2015
The Artillery Remains Open
Ian Cairns Jul 2015
White man got degrees
White man studies rap albums on weekends
White man still dreams on the hardwood
White man Steph Curry and Larry Bird in his head
White man be both- no problem
White man been hurt before
White man wears braces on both ankles
White man pick a new pair up whenever
White man down each aisle twice
White man throws the receipts away every time

White man left home this one time
White man always trying to help
White man night off whenever he wants
White man swears and means it
White man perpetual grin
White man still here
White man gets louder and swears no one hears him
White man silence still got a few words in it
White man says sorry sometimes, but
White man forgives himself always

White man ten ten year plans
White man why not more?
White man white lies
White man be a boy when he wants
White man lies face down when he chooses
White man love guns- need none though
He brings bigger weapons every time he leaves the house
This poem is after a poem done by Jon Sands, who followed similar patterns from Angel Nafis and Terrance Hayes.

Here is a link to Jon/Angel's version-- https://youtu.be/5lZ-GpHOhEk
1.4k · Apr 2013
Wildfire
Ian Cairns Apr 2013
Your passion
Ignites
A fiery flame

My mind
Becomes
Your forest
1.3k · Aug 2013
Answers: A Call to Action
Ian Cairns Aug 2013
What if I told you
I had all the answers.
Would you accommodate my allegations
Or assume my observations are obsolete?
Let's see.
What if I told you
There are approximately five abandoned houses
For every so called vagabond in America.
Let's pretend some simple addition could remedy this situation
And a few sets of steady hands plus a plethora of dry wall
Could dramatically increase the living conditions in these residences
And decrease the number of five year olds
Who consider dreaming on concrete comfortable.
Would you lend a hand?
What if I told you
That minorities make up the vast majority of inmates in America
While corporate crooks who believe distributing the wealth
Means purchasing penthouses in every time zone
From Ponzi Scheme paychecks
Receive bailouts rather than handcuffs.
As if felons in white collars are invisible to proper punishment.
Would you take the stand?
What if I told you
Believing in Buddha and his blessings
Or the New Testament teachings
Is not reason enough to persecute anyone
Based on their personal beliefs.
Because believe it or not
We were all blessed with the ability
To show compassion for others regardless of religious indifference.
Would you make amends?
What if I told you
I had none of the answers.
That my words were merely that- words.
That my call requires actions
And answers mean actually acting on abstractions
That most people keep inside mental concepts.
Would you hear me?
Would you help me?
What if I told you nothing?
Would you listen then?
1.3k · Jun 2013
On West Tioga Street
Ian Cairns Jun 2013
Just a week ago I resided on West Tioga Street.
Blending into an unaccustomed scenery.
Approaching with suspicion- a hunter's mentality.
But there was no time for barbaric introspection.
I was on a different mission otherwise unidentified.

The Iroquois people presided over Tioga long ago.
Carving arrows yet craving peace.
They longed for a place to call their own.
But our ancestors destroyed their homes with their souls.
Running them to foreign lands with nothing but petrified reflections.

Now West Tioga Street is stricken with poverty.
Filled with senseless robbery and abandoned properties.
But I dug a little deeper- scratching the underlying atrocities.
These people just want ethical policies protecting their families.
These people just want quality establishments to secure themselves financially.

What is the difference between Tioga now and Tioga then?
Why must we implement ancient actions again?
Resorting to institutional animosity capable of destroying communities.
Sometimes I worry about this land of opportunity.
Where snobbery and inequality override accomplishing things honorably.
1.3k · May 2014
Tiptoes
Ian Cairns May 2014
The rhythm wakes up
Underneath the microscope
It regains all hope

The molecules dance
Never stopping the spirit
Provided by us

The dance floor is open
Looking for atoms split in half
Couples jive the runway

In a tiny world
The truth connects through tiptoes
Make every step count
1.3k · Jun 2013
Footprints
Ian Cairns Jun 2013
Take a quick glance along this ragged path
Expose your eyes to the travesties
Immerse your soul in indecency
Are you too blind to see
Or too busy to look?
Each step you take
Is another misfortune misinterpreted
As socially acceptable or politically correct
Do you want to keep moving forward
Viciously approaching infinity without proper perception?
Or would you rather
Embark on that same path
Slow down your stride
And make a meaningful mark
Take a few steps back
Take your shoes off
And take a seat
***** your feet
And make the street you walk on
A visible masterpiece
1.3k · Jul 2013
Where Do The Wild Things Go?
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
Unintended circumstances brought me back
Where the wild things are. Or were.
Youthful images reemerge as I traverse my old home.
A senseless vagabond roaming former lands
With bittersweet observations and nothing short of good intentions.
Old landmarks remain, others disappeared as I did.
My room remains open and lonely with tidied sheets
And outdated athletic apparel scattered throughout.
A sign that my presence here is obsolete.
I've been dreading this day for some time now.
Not due to my father's underwhelming support
Or my mother's overbearing nature.
I've been dreading this day because of the monsters under my bed.
They don't exist anymore.
I'm not afraid anymore.
My biggest childhood worry vanished the minute
I stepped foot out of the house for good.
So when I stepped foot back into my room to fall asleep
I gave one last look where my nightmares once resided.
Just in case I had fooled myself into becoming one of
The vast majority of adults too mature for childhood villains.
And then it happened- my innocence evaporated from my body.
My sophisticated eyes were no match for my former foes.
I had confirmed the last traces of my youth had been eliminated
From my very existence- migrating under mattresses around the block.
So all I can do now is lie here and reminisce about
Where the wild things are now.
1.2k · May 2014
When
Ian Cairns May 2014
When I tell you I'm tired
The trouble is my bed
It doesn't seem to fit right
Without the outline of your head

When you tell me you're tired
The trouble is what's said
Typically in times of trouble
Your patience rests instead

When I tell you I'm sorry
The truth is I don't know
My intentions never crooked
Though my weakness always shows

When you tell me you're sorry
The truth is hidden low
You overthrow my worries
Keep tradition and just let go

When I tell you I'm leaving
What I mean is I'm holding on
Staring at the unmarked path
Reluctant to move along

When you tell me you're leaving
What you mean is you're already gone
So far down the crossroads
You can't make right from wrong
1.2k · Jan 2013
Eloquence
Ian Cairns Jan 2013
Eloquence is irrelevant in times of relevance
For it is not the beauty of the words that sets precedence
Rather the idea behind them that shows brilliance
Any man can speak articulately without substance
There is no power behind such simulated statements
Those with complete control of their clarity claim valiance
So, go forth and form your feelings with eloquence absent
1.1k · Nov 2013
Triumph
Ian Cairns Nov 2013
I wonder why sometimes
Struggle to find some time
To categorize my mind inside
Petty thoughts inhibit my strides sometimes
Slow down my progress
Eliminate my conscious
And deny my success
Making it hard to thrive in time
Consumed by bitter demons
Construed to inner treason
Conflicting with simple freedom
Yet I still wonder why sometimes
But triumph derives from conquering how
1.1k · Sep 2013
A Calm Catastrophe
Ian Cairns Sep 2013
The eye of the storm sighs-
An unusual sight to see.
A weary-eyed hurricane approaching me grievously.
Howling heartaches with tremendous teardrops.

So what was I to do?
Ignore the devastation's depression?
Storm out on the disastrous typhoon
And let it persist pessimistically?

So I sighed back.
Restoring strength to the hopeless traveler.
Making amends for the countless barricades set
For the storm that just needed to open up.
1.1k · Feb 2014
Intruders
Ian Cairns Feb 2014
It was a Wednesday
The September weather impersonated summertime shine
But my eyes were barbed wire to the shimmer
Twisted and tied shut to the summer
Refusing to adjust to the glow
I entered that classroom alone
An intruder
I thought we were all intruders there
Social Work 1140- Minority Perspectives
Peacefully confined to the classroom blackboard
Caged up reality for protected heads to understand
We all sat situated in straight lines
Staring at chalk too bright to comprehend
Silent minds creating the kind of noiselessness only known to tiptoe
We all tiptoed there
Wiggled into tiny seats small enough for suffering
Yet large enough for complacency
The pseudo-summer heat peaking through the curtains
Draped over certain advantages we dare not speak
We all closed our eyes in unison
Wondered when the suffering began
Wondered when the wondering would end
Avoiding chalkboard glares and awkward eye contact
But the chalkboard glares started staring contests
And the eye contact was too awkward to ignore now
I was a sophomore
I wore freight train headlights
I was a trojan warhorse in broad daylight
I was an intruder there

My professor excused our intruderness upon her entrance
Transforming foolishness to fuel the mood
She must be an intruder too
It was noon
And this room of undercover drummers
Marching to different tunes was nothing new for her
She saw the truth in us
Stared the vulnerability away
Spread sunlight sanctuaries through our brains
Our eyes no longer wandering through oblivion
Wondering when the wondering would end
It all began when she said
I think it's time we all open our eyes
We looked confused
Eyes expanding to bite size balloons
Placing helium time bombs at the foot of her news
I stared at the fuse
And she stared at our staring daring us to make the next move
But we refused
Cause it was barely noon
And that's too soon for collective movements
No time for any inch of improvement
We all refused to move
Thankfully she resumed
I want you to look around this room
And understand one thing
Your story is the only proof you bring here
The only sword you swing here
And this is no home for fresh bruises
We are all safe in this room


I sat there in silence
I've always been an overabundance of riches
A treasure chest filled to the brim
But in this moment my gold is good for nothing
My sword is null and void
Skull and crossbones to understanding
My Excalibur belongs permanently stuck in stone
I never opened my eyes that way before
Only saw what I assumed was true
My once royal empire collapsed around my desk
Tears dropped like fallen gemstones crashing the class discussion
I sat there in silence
I sat there alone
Refused to tell my story
Refused to feel so low
It's a tough pill to swallow
Acknowledging you have lived with privilege your entire life
So I sit here in silence
Choking on my silver spoon
Looking for the way to say
I don't want to be an intruder anymore
1.1k · Apr 2013
Poison
Ian Cairns Apr 2013
An inadequate interpretation
preserved in crooked craniums
contaminates the minds.
An embellished episode
dissected by firm fingers
falsifies the hearts.
An unacceptable attitude
and irreversible invalid anecdotes
poison the people.
1.1k · Dec 2012
What Used to Be
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
Monotony surrounds us
We're stuck within a vault
There will be no more success
After this assault

Such a troubled state of mind
That takes us to this place
Our thoughts have been redesigned
For no one to replace

Reformation takes its toll
With no regard for identity
As one by one, we lose control
Of what used to be serenity
1.1k · Nov 2013
Depletion
Ian Cairns Nov 2013
Leaves scattered across pavement playgrounds
Like divided school children at recess
The whistle sounds for harsh horizons
As the fallen tree treasures crinkle up
Screaming for promises of amber skylines and sparkling sunlight
But destiny decides their fate far too hastily
As white teardrops cascade the crisp atmosphere


Naked trees huddle together around former campfires
Telling remarkable tales of fallen heroes
To pass time during burial hours
Because nothing defines depletion better than barren branches at midnight
Reminiscing before the tundra tolls
The trees stand proud- but silently
Absorbing the autumn air in its frozen fury
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
Powerful beyond reason
It is the method behind this madness
The guided push often forgotten
This strive for excellence

It is the method behind this madness
That keeps me going
For without it
The struggle would prevail

The guided push often forgotten
Is behind my every move
For without it
My perseverance becomes indecision

This strive for excellence
Comes from within
It is uncontrollable, yet
Powerful beyond reason
1.1k · Dec 2013
Outrage
Ian Cairns Dec 2013
Beacons of truth
beckon
out loud
before
the night
blesses us
with her
devilish grin
so when
darkness stares
down at us
our vicious vision
petitions
for times
when outrage
is acceptable
Ian Cairns Jul 2013
Inevitably
Nothing
Develops
Entirely
Pure but
Equality
Never
Dreamed of
Evoking
Nights of
Contemplated
Evil.

Devastating
Anomaly?
Yes.
965 · Nov 2013
Resist
Ian Cairns Nov 2013
The universe
A master poet in her own right
Writes incredible stanzas regularly
Crashing majestic seas through gentle breezes and
Curling tree trunks through Earth's crust like calligraphy
So effortlessly forming wondrous deeds

But even the universe
Fails to comprehend someone as remarkable as you
You inhibit the laws of gravity
Allowing me elevation to previously unreachable heights
Which presents the inevitable question:
If you resist common law, how could I resist you?

Looking for a simple answer
To a question that prevents casual introspection
I realized reason would never understand you
That no precedent has been set for someone so passionate
So foregoing any common thoughts one may endure
I recklessly accepted my place right next to yours

"The law is reason, free from passion" -Aristotle
963 · Feb 2014
Déjà Vu (10w)
Ian Cairns Feb 2014
Déjà vu
only exists
for those
whose eyesight
has amnesia
946 · Sep 2013
Prey (10w)
Ian Cairns Sep 2013
Ambition
Preys on
Two needs:
Elastic minds
And resilient hearts.

**"Begin to be now what you will be hereafter." -William James
946 · Dec 2012
Snowflakes
Ian Cairns Dec 2012
The snow falls simple
Like I did that one day
Remember?
We sat on your driveway
It was night time
But you were the Sun

You sat there motionless
But took my heart and made it bright
Like a burglar without a mask
And with my hand gripped tight
Led me to uncharted territory
Only now do I feel lost

Daylight approaches abruptly
So as you heave what's left of my heart in one hand
As you let go of mine in the other
I brace myself and watch the Sun rise
As we fall to the ground, so effortlessly
Becoming mere snowflakes on the ground
940 · Apr 2014
Maybe
Ian Cairns Apr 2014
Maybe I'm a good man.

Maybe one plus one is two.

Maybe the sky is blue on purpose.

Maybe the moon is full enough to view.

Maybe you already knew that.

Maybe I'm a lost soul.

Maybe you are too.

Maybe I'm a liar.

Maybe you knew that too.

Maybe the way you laugh is angelic.

Maybe my compliments are long overdue.

Maybe I'm scared of asking for your name.

Maybe I know you'd only be passing through.

Maybe we're separated by more than six degrees.

Maybe you drew conclusions you hardly knew.

Maybe life provides no guarantees.

Maybe I always needed something new.

Maybe there are no keys to succeed.

Maybe success is knowing who you are is true.

Maybe who you are is complete.

Maybe you and I will make do.
926 · Dec 2014
Shape
Ian Cairns Dec 2014
I wonder if my fingers touch
the plastic covering my analog clock if
I can hold on to a few more seconds
of the beauty this moment spins
into a feeling I've never grasped before
and I'm starting to think that
time is more than the minutes
captured in a circle
and more about the seconds
we can't shape on our own
887 · Apr 2014
Maybe
Ian Cairns Apr 2014
Maybe I'm a good man
A lost soul on the move
I'm a liar with conviction
Maybe you are too

I think the sky is blue on purpose
The moon still full enough to view
The stars add up in surplus
Maybe one plus one is two

The way you laugh is angelic
Maybe you already knew that
My compliments sound long overdue
I think you knew that too

I'm scared of asking for your name
Maybe I know you'd only be passing through
We're separated by more than six degrees
A conclusion you already drew

Maybe life provides no guarantees
And all I ever wanted was the truth
I don't know what to believe
Maybe I always needed something new

Maybe there are no keys to succeed
Maybe success is knowing who you are is true
Maybe who you are is complete
And you and I will make do
Here's an edited version of my latest write. Let me know what you think!
840 · Apr 2014
Facade (10w)
Ian Cairns Apr 2014
For a brief moment
this felt more
fact than facade
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