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Dreams* crafted
in
useless yesterdays
and
empty tomorrows

Cracks spackled
with
makeup and tears

Porcelain facade
found
profoundly

... *
beautiful
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I graced the skies
I drifted with wings open wide,
Looking below, freedom up above,
I soared to the heights
Those below not seeing that above
Clouds,
There beauty, I grazed there out lines
I felt the moisture on the tips of my wings.
Storms,
The wind against me,
Anger of nature unfolds
I sought refuge from the darkened clouds
This day was safer on land,
In the trees, my second home.
Rain,
Tears washing over me,
Flowing around the river in the sky
As it did fall towards below.
I am of the sky
I am home in tallest trees,
I will sail where the winds flow
I am looking down from the heavens
And I am free, skyward bound.
I've               never           met                    anyone
                                  who                                                    talks  so  fast
    with          such         bursting           enthusiasm!
                                                  who              is        so               enthralled
       by               every     little     detail !
                                who      is      so      visibly       excited about life        !  
   who          cares     so much                                        
         
          about      everyone                and       everything !

    
                     Cindy, where do you get the energy??


                                       I've been seeing you once a week for piano lessons,

but oftentimes it's felt more like sessions of therapy.

                                
              Get your weekly dose of Cindy!

  Before I can even get my books out,
                                           you'll break into your rapturous rant
          and I'll just sit there,     on the piano bench,
          utterly transfixed.


                                       
You'll talk about Beethoven, of poverty in Portugal, whatever Glen said at the last dinner party, German poetry, Justin Timberlake, back to Beethoven... And this isn't someone's mindless ramblings! Just the opposite! This stuff seems to be pouring directly from out of your heart. In an inexhaustible stream. And it's flowing out at such a speed that I start to wonder
                                            is she okay?
But then I'll catch a glimpse of my own reflection in the stream.
Not my face. Just a beating heart.
I'll compare it to yours.
It's painfully small.
I think if I tried pouring it out like that, it would soon
        
dry out and shrivel up like a raisin.

*You've got a big heart. A huge heart. How else can you be so passionate about all these things?
Help me
Im falling apart.
Dying inside
Throwing everything
Down the drain.
Just enough to make me happy
Just enough to keep me sane.
Saving me
Saving you
Falling through the world
Today.
Loving my friends
My family.
Loving.
I'm writing a story of me leaving Moochy
I don't know what to say when i feel this way
So i thought i'l let the paper and pen to cast it away
Because i just can't imagine how it ends, hopefully it wont, i beg.

I sometimes wonder why on earth i made friends
With someone whom i know i will surely miss
But having a friend like her when you feel like you're getting nowhere
Is like the best option you have in order to get there.

This is the third time she made my imagination fly
How i wish i could hold her hands and wipe her tears when she cries
Hug her tight and tell her everything will be alright
Because honestly i always want to spend time with her everynight.

I once asked myself why i can't get over this
This feeling of sadness everytime i think of the moments we shared
It might be because of the place and the boredom it brings
It makes us lonely and long for the people we miss.

But i don't think it's the right answer to my question
Im pretty sure there's something more
Whatever it is i dont wanna know it
It might change something great and things might need to be mended.

I somehow feel sorry for myself sometimes
I hate it when i cant control my mind
People come and go, yeah, that's true
But some part of me just can't let go.

If there's one more thing i wish to do before i leave
It's the funny thing i and she always tease
I wanna pull her close to me and kiss her gently
That way we can taste each others lips. (hahaha!)

I wonder what to feel when im with my friends out there
I might tell them alot of stories i bring
But there would always be a part i cannot share
For it belongs to me, only to me, in my memory, and it will stay there.
You were like a 90's movie:

Completely consuming to my younger self, every line, catchphrase, and sequence embedded in me. Becoming as much part of me as my own personality.

Totally embarrassing and shameful to my older self, a harsh reminder that I was even young and ignorant. That I confused quantity for quality; in love, affection, whispered sweet nothings on stale bed sheets.

But remembered with a nostalgia that can't quite be recreated, no matter how many times I try to relive it in my head.

Perhaps it's because I'm still too young, and the best metaphor I can conjure up when people ask me about my first love

is that you were like a 90's movie.

As pathetic as it sounds, it is no doubt fitting, because we outgrew each other with age.

It was only with time that we saw each other as laughably outdated.

Perhaps we are all just products of our time.
As the minutes drift into hours
I stare at the flowers
That died the day you left.

And they say keepers win in the war of finders,
But I'm not so sure.
Cos, the reminders
Of what used to be.
Have soured.
And I try and devour
Memories,
Spaces, faces, places
That we shared.
And I choke on some, and others slide down.
--

And I wander if I even cross your mind, my love
And do you remember the time
You said that you'd always be mine
And that forever was too short a time
For you and I.

Those lies you spun, like a spiders web,
Took place, built homes
Inside my head
And I didn't try to relocate
Because all I could do was appreciate
That someone finally cared.

And those memories that we shared,
Those faces, spaces and places
They're all so vivid.
I can smell the scent of your sweet perfume, and feel the water
Splash
When we went down that log floom
And we both held on so tight,
We were determined not to let eachother go. With all our might.
So what happened, my love?

What changed inside that beautiful frame of yours
What's the reason you began to close  all of those doors
And lock me out.
Cos it's strange to be a stranger
And I don't like the danger
That comes with
Not knowing who I am, or you were.
And the uncertainty of who we were together.
Cos the forever we promised
Has been and gone, and call me crazy
But I expected to hold on to it
A little longer.
I thought we were stronger.

Your honey gold hair hung
Down over your face
As you told me about these places and spaces that we shared
Could be no more

My world crashed and burned
And fizzled out
And I found new ammunition
To tear myself apart
To pull to pieces
My damaged heart.
And once I was done
I hung the picture frame
You threw onto the floor
On a sign on the doors,
Saying keep out.

And my barriers went up
But my walls crumbled down
Tell me,
Are you around, my love?

Are you laughing and smiling
And have you moved on...

2013 ©
Forest fires erupt in my cold veins, every time the corners of your mouth curve upwards.
 Jun 2014 elizabeth capital
Court
You said you loved me but I don't think you know what that means

What kind of love would leave me on the ground in your tshirt with teary eyes?
What kind of love would listen to twenty seven (
literally twenty seven) voicemails of me crying and begging you to reply and not respond to a single one?
What kind of love would kiss me today and leave me tomorrow?
What kind of love would listen to my past without the intention of being in future?
What kind of love would just let go?

You said forever but I don't think you know what that means
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