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11.4k · Jun 2014
Intimate Decibel
Linguistic Play Jun 2014
I use to write of pain and tribulation
mmm I've always just been looking to feel the greatest sensation
senses at peaks, they peak when they peek at the sight of elation

I've always taken to sealing all my stories away
in notebooks with binding finally looking to fray
because the pressure they hold brings such a dismay
Binded in between faded blue lines
I swear im fine
I swear im fine
in these lines of what could have been mine
and I'll lose it all in this glass of wine
where red bleeds to black
and I've done away with that
The great purge of endless words
heard by no one other than the mad man
running through my head screaming that I can
do anything I thought my mind and limbs had banned
from the realm of possibilities
Because pain ought not be sealed to live an endless life

So I now write of hope and dreams
and the endless possibilites
that stretch from the cities and into the trees
finally dancing down into these seas
but I'm also writing
of wishes and laughs and smiles too
because what else can you do
there are only a few
who know everything is new
everything we knew
can be lost in the great blue
that paints our skies and seas
carrying away the bundle of keys
that locks pandora's box
and leaves us with happiness and cheer
Because happiness can be carried in anything as simple as a tear
racing down the lines of your cranial
that houses your greatest fears


From the lines of light blue to the minds of the hopeful and the true
And words of optimism should live
And breathe and smile and laugh
In the hearts of the world for a lifetime and I digress


In a habitat so vast
With horizons reaching from sky to sky
Drowned in blues and red
I'm glad to of found you at last
We're left to defy all that society presents as lies


I wanna speak at an intimate decibel
Acknowledge your flaws, don't be bound by them

Open your mouth to nothing coming own
Settle down in your head and make a home

I just want to compliment your soul
3.1k · Aug 2013
Cuddling my heart
Linguistic Play Aug 2013
My breath heightened
It's just the same old grind I said
but the escalation of breath was undeniable
and suddenly my palms became frightened
No, no, no its just another night, nothing to dread
but your actions are just unjustifiable
beads of sweat begin to build,
and I can't deny the stress and tension settling atop my shoulders,
but, it's just another night, nothing to dread
certainly, you can't be dead,
and now the darted looks are starting to take place,
denying emotion is only for the skilled,
and tears are reddening my eyes,
but the skies aren't even beginning to cry,
and the sweat that built is ready to be spilt,
but no, no, no, those are the tears,
they've been building for years and now they're left to spill
but, its just another night,
there really is no need for fright despite my plight to take flight and set it all right,
for you, the tried and true, who opens the skies to be blue, for me
who can bring herself to see that you need to be free in light of all your plees...
but it's just another night,
and the bottle hits the ground,
and it's just another night,
unlike the rest that were in sight,
it's just another night,
of fright and desperation in the soul searching escalation,
it's just another night because nothing has ever been alright, any other night,
you just kept it out of sight like it was a special night,
but tonight...is just another night.
2.5k · Nov 2014
Read All It, Tease
Linguistic Play Nov 2014
1969, one voice sent the world's radios to dancing because we were passing the torch from dreaming to reality as we took to the soft landing
That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind
and for just a second, everyone alive got to feel like Einstein but
I bet you as Armstrong looked down he didn't picture the strife and denial of life to so many in sight 40 years later
street riots and technology gone violent controlling the fears of children peering through glass stained in dust as nightmares rush passed the idea of life, crushing everything in sight
we even wrote it in our constitution
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
but you'd have to sell your soul to bail from a life ended where money knows no measure
and you can not tell me that shooting an innocent human on mistake is neither cruel no unusual
but the constitution has turned into a wall
to push people so far back on that they couldn't turn and run
or read what was suppose to be a guarantee in the land of the free
and that's just the beginning
we're denying people from entering a country for body modification
when we've been altering our appearance longer than we have had boundaries to deny people from
because we're still leveling cities like we did when we were daydreaming and knocking block castles down
because we're still enslaving humans because of their genetics
but behind sheer curtains, it's all ok
because if you don't see then there's no need to worry
it's easy to ignore it when you have comments and feeds to read  before you give the world news a chance at your attention
but what i've never understood
is how innovation and careful thinking placed a device in your hand
and all you came to do with it was carefully craft a 140 character string of *******
but i guess it goes to show
like our constitution
that though manifested to be great for the people by the people
at the end of the day, we're still too self obsessed to look at the rest of the picture
we're still too afraid to peer down at the entire world
so, Neil, I'm sorry, one giant step for man but mankind hardly remembers
2.5k · Sep 2013
The diary of a mad man
Linguistic Play Sep 2013
Friends, family, foes, and those of woe,
I invite you to dance this delicate tango with me,
right on the line of reality and fantasy.
It is here, that,
I invite you to the mad tea party.

Now, let us get one or two,
three or four,
maybe ten, one hundred, zero things straight,
you are not to be late to the mad tea party,
you are to set your time straight and do not stray,
but rather show up without delay at the time that serves your mental estate,
at a time that feels right with your bones,
now, now don't miss that time and don't be late.
We are of strict dress code here at the mad tea party.
You are not to wear what you saw on him and she and her and we unless it is of,
suitable expression to your situation,
you are to dress accordingly with your mentality,
nothing else will pass the test.
You are to act accordingly.
Do not laugh when not appropriate, and sit up straight when your spine tells you.
Do not speak when your mind is forced to be spoken.
Now, have we all straight.

I cordially invite you to the mad tea party.
Where we dine and wine and tell tales of time,
and rejoice on the words those delicately spoke,
and dance on the lines theatrically strewn across the room,
and sail across every last tale from you and he and yeah her over there too.
I invite you to the mad tea party.

I invite you tell of when you first saw the earth breath,
when the trees and the leaves set to dancing,
when you first heard the wind laugh at your grin,
and when the raindrops ran fearfully from the erupting sky.
I demand of you to tell nothing but that of truth,
and watch as the molecules in the air take to vibrating.
Take notice to musical clinking of the entities amidst you,
and take pride in the gentle stride of the clouds overhead.
Did you notice the flowers laughing at you,
in between the birth, death and rebirth in accordance with the sun?
Did you notice the flowers pull in their petals as they shyed from your step?
Take notice to the music and laughter around you at the mad tea party,
take great care with the feelings floating about the air, vulnerably buzzing from mind to mind,
before their decline and descent to rest their heads.


You see, it is here at the great mad tea party,
that we do not devoid you of the ability to do as your energy demands,
with the issues of time and dress and proper behavior.
It is here that we tend to focus on the earth and the breathing of the molecules and atoms  around you,
it is here that we go mad.
and it is here that I cordially invite you,
but before you make your reservation, please eliminate all hesitation.
You see the mad tea party is not readily accepted,
by the constraints of society and the binds of reality.
You see the mad tea party is misconstrued by masses more than just a few.
Those who long buried their soul look down on the guests,
for they are different than the rest, in that, they're welcoming,
into their soul the ability to go mad which is taught to be bad.
So before you make your reservation be inexplicably sure,
that you are in fact,
ready, for the mad tea party.
2.4k · Sep 2014
snowglobe
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
its the feeling of goosebumps rattling your skin
pressing to be seen, it's chilling
camouflage to try and grip the cold dancing between your strands of hair
in an instant
they back off
but i remember when I tried to shy them because I didn't want you to see that my skin was expressing that the cold was ******* my senses
stay cool, I reminded me, giggling at the irony that hung in the air, but now that reminds me why where we are now is so surprising
because in that night there was no lightening or frightening arrays of the future fighting because in that night our smiling was blinding
I remember the way my heart rattled my ribcage forcing to be heard
forcing to say what I couldn't put into words as I sat there staring at the individuals strands of hair that you kept pushing behind your ear
and the way your shoulders softly pushed the air up to notice that the focus of the night was the world above us
reminding you to look up at the violent battle of elements yet discovered, but uncovered and smothered by the atmosphere to be the picture that hovers above our cloud cover



I wan't to bottle that night up, a snow globe with stars instead of snow
but no the edges of the world pulled up and so, the show finally came to a close when the ocean and earth came crashing over the curtains
and im running caught in a cycle of the cyclical monotony of suffocating monogamy, im not ready so im making this rut to house a violent flow of all this **** you don't know.
2.0k · Sep 2014
social media
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
im done learning a language rooted in vanity
like I need to take a selfie for my latest avi to go along with that tweet
and we're up in arms fighting, but its on the hush hush in our subtweets
thinking these anons that ask questions to boost my self security
telling friends, give me just an instant to update my insta
yeah, we're full of wit
spitting captions to gain cheap chuckles
lacing 140 characters together to make a point
less, we're spending time thinking of a cheap rhyme
while in the meantime our headlines are suffering from the lack of attention
because if one more ******* person tells me they're gaining fame
online
with meaningless angles, and pop culture retweeted
im going to lose my ******* mind
this **** is such a waste of time
this shrine made up of the kind of things you call mine
and we're washing out the brilliant minds
that are taking the time
to tell you something worthwhile
we're using a shovel as a ***
and plowing this tool into the ground
when artists all around are trying to dig through the *******
just to show you
that somethings are actually worth noticing
1.7k · Aug 2015
Snapbacks & Lingerie
Linguistic Play Aug 2015
live in the 'C' section of dictionary
rated 'R' for too much intimacy
a coil of contradictions
a casual act of snapbacks and lingerie
a date with coffee and ***** martinis
it's the nothing good after two a.m.
but the same that will take a good man
you'd get lost in those pages too
if you knew the feeling of the craving
trouble loves a rainy sky
for it provokes the feelings of a darkened night
the moon always has taken hold of our emotions
ebbing and flowing like the breath filling your lust
a tide is just as powerful by any other name
1.6k · Aug 2013
Eye of M
Linguistic Play Aug 2013
I am a female.

I am in my early twenties.

I have naturally brown hair smudged in fake red and vibrant green eyes.

I am short with a baby deer walk.

I am a student.

I am a worker and a dreamer.

I am an advancer and an experience glutton.

I am a caffeine rush with a brush of sarcasm coated in a smile.

I am a music enthusiast with notes flowing through my bones and measures lifting my every step.

I am a note aspiration draped in wrong tunes and character.

I am a musician unborn.

I am a glutton for the melodies and rhythm of the world.

I am of a shadow generation desperately seeking themselves in each passing fad.

I am a product of the public and society, but am of the discarded bunch, tossed to crowded shelves for less potential.

I am a generation pent up in a box and I am making my break through.

I am of a generation with the potential greater than the last and the means for a voice louder then the rest.

I am a decade of pain and tribulations and of hope and progress.

I am a cynic and I am hope, I am a technological hub and a mirror of all that is to come.

I am the future, the present and the past.

I am representative of those left behind and those who ran full speed.

I am a dancer in the air around me, I am a writer of the languages I cannot speak.

I am an open book with blank pages. I am a magic observer and a culture absorber.

I am a student of the world and the land and the people.

I am a prophet of language.

I am a reader of words sealed in paper.

I am all that I could ever hope to be and I am all that I never wanted to see.

I am my mother, my father, my friends, and my peers.

I am you as he is he and we is me.

I am the product of my mother.

I am the lick at the end of your tongue.

I am the bite in your spite.

I am the twinkle in the glitter you spread.

I am the pocket sized rowdy mouse running about a world too big.

I am the offspring of my father.

I am the peace that was given a chance.

I am the notes dancing from  the end of a bell.

I am the back that never turns and I am the last shirt to give for warmth.

I am love and I am hope.

I am the looking glass of perseverance.

I am that nature that will not give up, until dreams are met.

I am radical and quiet all in the same.

I am me.

I am everything and I am nothing.

I am whatever I hatch for the sun's breaking day.

I am a product of the universe and I am molecules unspoken.

I am a voice and I am impact.

I am the change and I am the cause of the need for change.

I will be the dream, I will be all I hoped to be.
1.4k · Jun 2014
Muted positivity
Linguistic Play Jun 2014
We turn trees upside
down
and sideways with strife,
and the battle for the spotlight -
blowing holes in the earth to prove a point
that the "fortunate" are better than those
with voices tied and bound by conspiracies and political regimes.

So we pollute and dilute our resources
to prove that we can inflict change on the way of life,
and the ways of those with less than those on the other coast,
and what if its just your lens that needs turning upside down
to see that the fortunate may not be you and me.
that wealth may not sit in things
and values measure by monetary means
that wealth may not even be
a measurement of the fortunate and lucky.
But those with toes stuck to the earth
and time told not by ticking and flicking hands
but rather by the dependable rising and setting sun,
that just maybe they're the lucky ones,
and what's luck to do with life anyways
if luck is self contrived and inflicted
why not lend notion to finding value not in something that we can power,
and not in something that we can change
with the next wave of rage and flight for a new craze
but rather something that gives us power to breathe and see
the beauty in a sparkling sea
but no, no we cannot see it that way
because our long led wars
to prove that we can control
have lead the dim of the sparkle and the adjustment of the lens
to be so small
that only a bullet can be sent
through to horizon once blue
but now painted in red
by our greed fed actions.

but what is it that they always said?
You've made your bed,
now you must lie in it,
but why not raise our heads,
and greet this new moment
with a new perspective
of changing the aperture of our lens
to allow for a wider view
that goes beyond the understandable
and opens our eyes, our only real lens
to all the lies we've paved this world in

if you could see what I'm desperately trying to plea
than I strongly believe that you and me,
we...we could be the new key
to the world's long muted positivity
Linguistic Play May 2015
I replay the 30 seconds before we fall asleep and the 30 seconds when we both wakeup over and over in my head like the title screen of my favorite DVD I fell asleep to when I was alone.

My stomach still flutters when I open the door to our home as it did when I opened the door to your car on our first date.
1.2k · Aug 2015
tattoo scars
Linguistic Play Aug 2015
i press memories into my skin
just to have a constant visualization of them
another one, a different view
the thought would rattle you, if you only knew
your body takes an idea, makes it beautiful
i trace the lines while you echo the stories
of each driving space that hurt less than the thought
Linguistic Play Aug 2013
Oh, but please spare my head of necessities
of the complexities
that are but trivial and non-existential
to the pursuit of living and thriving,
not in a pool of segregating ridden paper,
but in a bath of mentation and minds wide open.

And please bite your tongue,
when the lick of a serpent dances across your taste buds,
when you wish to deprive me that of a young mind
and youthful stride.

I do not wish to be at one with your negativity,
I wish to flee and sprint from your gloomy, pessimistic stint.
Rather, I invite you to join me in the pursuit of creativity,
to strive to leave your imprint,
of sheer, requited positivity.

But if you will,
without a plee,
I wish to help you swing with me
on practiced words and the fleet from stability,
I wish to take you on a stroll,
through and into the soul,
of nothing less than a dreamer,
of a hoper,
of someone so desperately fleeing
from the necessities of the complexities.
875 · Jan 2015
plot twist^2
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
love by any other name will feel as sweet
as the first time we meet
when we were dancing with happiness and we called it bliss
as the first time we touched
when we were so tangled in lust and we called it passion

but love by any other name is hiding behind being coy
and im so ******* ready to come out and just be blunt
to laugh and not worry
about what you might really mean
because how am I suppose to know what you mean
when you never say what you mean
and yes im sarcastic
and yes you're full of wit
and **** yes, that was part of it when I fell to be part of your focus
but passive and sarcastic are not friends
they don't even rhyme or sit nicely side by side

love will eventually sit by the graveside of its ambiguous mistress
because mistrust caused her to be ran over
and a misstep knocked her off the building
to fall to a million pieces and shatter
the mistress in known so well the world nicknamed her a broken heart
and love forever falls victim to her lifeless grave
866 · Feb 2015
When it rains, it pours
Linguistic Play Feb 2015
sometimes it hits you
like you always expected it to
setting off a lightening storm in the delicacy of a kiss
waiting to hear how far from passion we are
in the sudden thunder rumbling my ribcage

i always counted the seconds before saying things I was afraid of
the logic of numbers would surely reconcile stupidity
one,
two,
i love, three,
you
when senses shock your body everything stops
slows
to the careful counting of each of your teeth as they appear in a grin
slower
to the roadtrip down the stretch of your fingers
and suddenly, all at once
the world runs to full speed
and catches up to my day dream
of you and I laughing hysterically
and suddenly, not a count to soon
you love me
857 · Feb 2015
mime
Linguistic Play Feb 2015
When I go online I hide behind a fake name
Like a mime dressed in white
Tricking time with a silent rhyme
Running awe and confusion around a race track under pressure
Lines and metaphors set into the groves
In a cyclical pirouette releasing melodies and brilliant minds
Just for the record
You can't race a musical genius
Ducking through bars and springing off cliffs, taking a quick rest and stutter out the rest
Stuckin auto pilot ducking into first
Stringing up next to the last verses
Tying in with second in a harmonious concoction of connotation
Shooting minds through a cannon
To land on different islands in a perception derived definition
835 · Aug 2013
Stories in the core
Linguistic Play Aug 2013
I would tell you my story,
but then you just might believe me,
when I tell you of the cages and bars that I desperately keep myself pressed against,
of the voices that so desperately plague my dream,
attempting to leave laughter,
but fleeing with nothing less than a scream.

I would tell you my story,
but then you just might feel the pain,
of tear stricken cheeks standing alone in the streets,
screaming of hopes and dreams,
left alone in the sea of fallen aspirations and breathes,
swimming so desperately for a speck of land,
offering a hand of anything.


I would tell you my story,
but I love you and I wouldn't want you to worry,
that the mad binds of society would cease my limbs,
and tie me back from the grip of you,
that my mind might break from it's confinements
and come after you.

I would tell you my story,
but would you go mad with me,
or would you be smitten,
tackled to the ground by the essence that reminds,
that nothing is as dark as the tale
that you wish to embark,
would you reach for the positive,
in fear of the helpless bodies chasing behind you,
claiming of love and lust
but...


I would tell you my story,
but the mad man fears of discovery,
the brain wishes not to be unraveled,
and have pain and tribulation traveled,
the soul wishes not of company in misery,
but of embrace ever so gingerly,
to continue the warmth.

I would tell you my story,
but the fairytale is so much better,
dreaming of sunsets and warm sweaters,
dancing in the stars and running with the breeze,
but now,
I'm afraid I've told you my story,
and we've gone and ruined the glory,
of the long told fairytale,
of a pale vail,
and love, oh don't forget of love...
but you wanted to hear the story,
of a mislead heart,
passionately wrought and then torn apart.
828 · Sep 2014
k
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
k
I thought I knew anatomy until I took to mesmerizing
the movements of your finger tips and the curl of your lips
it was a surprise to me that everything I was sure of its meaning
measured up to nothing in my journey of analyzing
because bones are filled with marrow
but talent must support your limbs because theres no other way to explain it
and your finger prints must be hieroglyphs of the most beautiful piece of art thats taken to be written
I exhale carbon dioxide but your cadence is different
alongside common elements, intelligence is escaping from inside
I've sat to questioning the pictures my textbooks taught me
and the only sensical explanation is you're too beautiful to be contained by science alone
because you can't place an equation on a work of art
perspectives wont always let x = x
and maybe that's just it
the awareness of being aware pressed your eyes
so I studied them a bit longer, like a test I didn't want to fail
you have features that ask to be traced so they can be born to more than one place to grace the blank expressions of the earth's faces
an infinite impression of peacefulness
these aren't lines telling of hopeless love and romantic woes
Im looking to tell of one of the most interesting people I ever met
that didn't cause me to be swept from where I commonly stepped
but reminded me to be grateful for being grounded
butterflies never filled my insides
but a craving to learn everything that coincides with your latest stride
813 · Jan 2015
tea
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
tea
I didn't know you'd never fall like you did
feet in the air, palms on the ground
I didn't know you'd never make me feel like a kid
but I wanted to so I ran round and round
up and down, searching for the love I hope you kept hid
between dancing smiles and raining frowns
but it was fourteen plus two and two and two
my will was yet ready to trek to depths of the unending blue
when you pushed, i couldn't believe it to be true
leaving me to drown in the nonexistent idea of me and you

but we snap, flip back, run around the race track
to the same starting point, white flags waving surrender
to contagious conversationalist talking of extraneous happiness
tracing the blank novels of love tales never written

you've always been the captain of this ship
swearing you're too afraid to wreck it
but you sail us into the lands never sailed by experience
just to see the life unseen, im serious
and I have a feeling
we're aimless travelers
I have a feeling
we're destined passengers
I have a feeling
we'd never have a feeling
because we're terrified
of having a feeling
of dissapointments
of having a feeling
of failure
of having a feeling
that feelings could take us over  


but we snap, flip back, run around the race track
to the same starting point, white flags waving surrender
to contagious conversationalist talking of extraneous happiness
tracing the blank novels of love tales never written

we could take the long way home
drive a little longer
just don't pull over, we can just roam
pass the passing seasons,
we'll just wander
through songs for all the wrong reasons
between the voices and instruments we can rest
just don't pull over, we have no reason
time is the test, the test is the exit exam
just don't pull over, cause im going to scram
running in the opposite direction
to a world where you can never read my ****** expressions
of pure affection


but we snap, flip back, run around the race track
to the same starting point, white flags waving surrender
to contagious conversationalist talking of extraneous happiness
tracing the blank novels of love tales never written

but it was time, i escaped the coy persuasion
it was mathematics, the perfect equation
of fourteen plus two plus a few and I lost count
and replaced it with a sensation
of unrequited friendship, our own sermon on the mount
a love stronger than I aimed when one met six
of trust bound tighter than welded steel
cause now we just laugh, skip past the oceans filled by hurt feelings
walking on the beach, looking at the beautiful view
of what was once me and you

but we snap, flip back, run around the race track
to the same starting point, white flags waving surrender
to contagious conversationalist talking of extraneous happiness
tracing the blank novels of love tales never written
795 · Dec 2013
Don't make sense of me
Linguistic Play Dec 2013
In rooms of stiff air, hold tight to your collapsing lungs
running out in the blissful, swirling air resetting your lids and taking to dancing
if you're still running, you're the lucky one
because we all tiptoe on the wrinkle between reality and fantasy
peeking over the cusp of brilliance
fearful of the flying dance on the open swirling air
diving into an unspoken fate
of landing indefinitely on either side of reality and fantasy

but did we miss the opportunity
to paint it all simultaneously exactly how we saw it
viewing each life as an absolute timeline, disregarding the space beyond zero and infinity is where we fault
using the transcendental space to paint your skies and life is where we make change
determining the merge from one life to another is subjective
so paint your new life today
dive into your excellence
fight for the dance on the open air under the grinning sun
make sense not of these words but of the blending of your next masterpiece
who are you today, if not who you want to be right now?
774 · May 2016
Draw Bridge
Linguistic Play May 2016
It was in a dream, no a nightmare, or maybe not
but it doesn't really matter
the idea took hold of my imagination in my sleep
swaying on a draw bridge, you know the tale we all know
rain shattering on the darkness of my inner eyelids
and the barely held together steps simultaneously danced in the wind
and held me back from turning this dream to a barely escapable fall
but my nightmare in my bridge made of imperfections surfacing
with each step realizing that I had a choice to keep moving forward towards an idea of perfection
turn back to a memory of stability
and each step held me a little longer
offering the polaroids of safety that they took on more clear days
each one was a little more clear and hold me much longer
and as i take more and more steps, finding it too far to turn around to familiarity
this must be growing up
i won't burn my bridge because of memories and mistakes
but keep moving forward to strengthen it with success
and lessons
next time i visit you, draw bridge in my head
i'll be able to go between my idea of perfection and stability
693 · Jan 2015
all the buzz
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
I want to turn your world upside down
catch all your frowns and turn them to smiles
you have me saying the cheesiest ****
like your laugh is my favorite melody,
a catchy song I keep playing on repeat
to fill all of my journeys
with the best memories of you.
I won't follow you around the world
but I'd fly to you when you needed me
and I'd call just to hear your stories
about all your little things I can't wait to see

i'm not good at a lot of things
but if its alright with you
I would like to try and be the best I can at being with you
and not a part of you
but like a compliment to turn your flaws into thinking outside the box
and not your better half
but a realization that you're amazing as a single person
and I want to share that
like a present wrapped in cotton sheets
tossed in the air to float like the smoke
that we dressed all our fears in

I don't want this to be about anyone else
like a streaming headline in our digital news feeds of social mishaps
I don't want you to read between the lines
because that's just space to breathe when I'm saying what I truly mean
I don't care what puppeteer says we need social media presence as proof
because I'm trying to find a little more room to get away with you
just to talk about your favorite minutes of the day
and hear of the hours of nothing that turned to stories
you see, in this world, I can read digital shorts of all the lives
but the classics are my favorite
and your voice is my favorite tone in the next best selling novel

you can do better but im selfish
and I hope you don't see
that someone may not go against everything they say
and fall for you faster than the second Mexican Empire
I hope you don't realize
that I'm hardly grounded and float in a constant daydream
of unrealistic ideas and themes
like my favorite fantasies in sprawling print
I hope you don't feel
that I shake under my confidence of how nervous
you truly make me

I know that forever is but a lie
because all things beautiful, evil and coy mask the same fate
and i'll never promise you what I cannot deliver
but i'd ask that you keep running around my head
because right now, you're my most favorite daydream
the most handsome boy in the game
I'll kiss you awake because I have no patience
it takes all my restraint to keep my feet from racing to you
because you're my favorite part of the day
and I can only hope
you'll keep answering my knock at your door
671 · Sep 2014
overcast perversion
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
I did always tend to shy
to the side of life hidden by shadows
guided by mossy, abandoned walls
stacking bricks of one untold story after another to guide this life I lead
and all my favorite people come here
the mad and insane, the villains and vixens
smoking jokes with the jokester
like you want to play a little game
adrenaline ****** riding through the twists and turn of your brain
past the sleeze and the tease that you tucked between your sheets
all the times you denied lust because love looks better dressed
for the rest of the guests in your life
down and around the time you tried to lie just to please
some made up story that made life sound a little easy
say cheese
on roller coasters they always did take ******* pictures
and you chose the perfect spot between what you want us to see
and what you've fooled us all into thinking that you've chosen to be

but what's printed in a picture
is but smoke of what's real
real smiles feelings laughter drift away
when our lips make way to fake a buffet of happiness
its just a rush of blood to your head
to project the ideal scene from your pupils
melt into this pixelated reality like hey it can be real
you just have to believe me
that all this scenery wasn't result of sketching my cutest dreams
but in my head, the cute is starting to get dim
as its drifting further away from this mischievous grin
the cheshire cat was always my best friend, magic
like sleight of hand in a grin, fading in and out and in
this reality can be intriguing, disbelieving, a never ending day dream
like every substance to touch my tongue dancing in my words
to paint the streets and trails under my feet
its the clearest sense of clarity, and indefinite reality of everything that your senses think is a tease
like risk stained lips
sentences laced in ******* of persuasion
bones that guide your latest fantasy to take to dancing
like your entire world lost to the madness of *******
RGB slinging and sleighing everything ticking around this clock
its a melting masterpiece, sinking into the core
but theres more, beating down the door, vibrating the floor
sending the ground to clouds to float on
I bet you never saw that the clouds were but the smoke of every worry we've let go
I always wrote tales laced in gold when it was an overcast flow
when the grass blurs to floating snow, its an oscar winning show
dancing on your chest, coughing out all of the mess
**** it, forget the rest

im always preaching of the same thing
because society has changed our reality to gasping screams
stretching the grasp of sanity to something that seems pleasing
but minds have lost their soul when ghouls take to slashing
the hopes and dreams from the pleas
leaving them to dress the headlines in other countries
like we have to do something if we tell all the people
in new york times san francisco,
we'll leave our impact in a chronicle to find home on a dusty shelf
with every other mistake that betrayed our trust
you see, i've read the books of our history and nothing is really a mystery
its the biggest scheme in the 21st century, hiding our undying hypocrisy
and I went mad in a rhyme because I frequently test time
because I couldn't find sublime in the latest headlines but with each passing day, my reservoir is failing to drought as all these thoughts are racing out
608 · Nov 2014
love letter to 'x'
Linguistic Play Nov 2014
Dear you,
I was never so swell at writing letters
but it seems that everyone is writing love letters these days
to the eyes they see as windows
to hands they see as safety nets
to thoughts from another head that help them make sense of all of it

and I don't think I've ever truly fallen in love before you
which makes a lot of sense since I always adored things that are imaginary
the mystical nature of it all
so I'd escape to the thought of your non-existent existentialism
that helped me feel some sort of cloudy comfort
I love clouds..
and love loves clouds, I mean it lives in number 9
and maybe this letter belongs with number 9
a cloud I haven't jumped to yet
because its a forced chronology
not matter how much I try to transcend space
8 was close, but we wont talk about that
because there's not sense in it
but i've also been told that love is a blissful repetition
of soul elation and heart sensation
and see, I told you
you whimsical daydream of a nonexistent fantasy
I told you that I was no good at love letters
because the best one ever wrote
lives in infamy in red roses and blue violets
it's just a think those lines are such a violent antiquity
but my words will never live up to such a sense of sensitivity
so as to be spend a life of monotony trying to make sense of it you see
I digress
where were we
I'm suppose to say I love you and I see no days without you
because you're my sunshine on a rainy day
but old rhymes and tired lies plague my listless rhymes
i swear im tryin'
you can't take to pleasing a mystery
with coyly placed tries of a tease
I might as well tie off my hopeless pleas
but please, don't write me off like the endless words in this tireless rhyme
because until the time rolls around the corner for my wandering thoughts to take form, you'll live in these hopelessly hopeful tangled letters
to you, the one I haven't met yet
605 · Jan 2015
seasoning
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
It was the end of August and my words were taking flight
Twisting into rhymes that danced with every ounce of thought running out of my mind
And it's the end of December and my words are hiding out
As they're stuck in a maze racing for anything and everything cheesy
Because if you flip flop and rewind back to the height of September
It was a mid summer romance that bound my words
As things were heating up and taking awkward steps
My mind thought of nothing but ooey gooey romantic bouts
In a sleepless night I fell in love instead of falling to sleep
As a mid October party running on stumbled feet and knocked over glasses
I lost the room to the melody of your voice
And I'll forever keep a video captured in my mind
Cause as early January dawned
I chase most yawns with a quick lip lock like I imagined while carefully watching you capture my interest
And I hope as February hugs the romantics
We'll find laughter in the hypocrisy of these love stories dancing with  mediocrity
And walk a pace a little different
To the following months I can't write about because they exist as dreams
That I could bring justice to with witnessing each individual scheme
602 · Dec 2014
drive through
Linguistic Play Dec 2014
take a second, there's that feeling again
I don't want to know this
you didn't want to give this
it was everything I did wrong
echoing to break the threads of the safety blanket
I hid under for years
you didn't try
I don't remember what I did wrong
a tsunami in a single drop
so I snapped your picture because I wanted to remember all of it
from the happiest beginning
to the happiest ending
and then you erased me
you were always more high tech, a whiteboard to my chalkboard
and you can see the scars of the words spoken past
etched into my every thought
its about 4 months passed success
and I can't be held responsible
you fell in love in the first place
and I wish I could remember when I let you fall of the ledge
that I urged you against approaching
but I lost my mind watching the wind dance in your hair
I will never find another like you, it's true
but im wanderlust
and will search the world until it feels right
but your endless smile led my path for years
and now im lost because I took a shortcut
and so I fall asleep where its a bit darker
and I wake up and tousle with my demons
but I still try to smile and remind my self to chin up
I wish you would have never fell
and you could have stayed grounded to keep me from flight
because I wanted to be with you
and my every whim pulled all my limbs in a teary haze
I know that only love could burn my pride
and maybe you were just along for the passionate ride
that was easy to step out and pay the cab fare
I should have said no
no no no you're my best friend
no no no everything always seemed wrong
no no no baby not me
but you painted stars in my eyes so I could see for bright for thousands of years
and I followed you
like the north star, stead and fast
this could just be a part of growing up
and drowning in caffeine just to keep going
and that's what you wanted
but I wanted to run free, a gypsy without a plan
and I over committed myself to dreams that were not mine
but i guess that's growing up
I knew things were going to change
you burned the memories of us
and scattered the ashes to a graveyard
to remind that love dies like everything once full of life
this all sounds ridiculous
but like a nursery rhyme dancing with careful chimes
I hope you're happy
even if I don't know
I know you weren't happy the day I watched you walk away
when I sat silent in an awe
that I open and played the mint condition record of our demise
I had become colorblind, everything was so black and white
like gender roles and expectations of a wife
and it scared the color back into me
you spooked a ghost
because no one can ever be perfect
when it's me standing in front of you crying
trying to remind you that im first and foremost your friend
and when we would lay
I watched the hour hand spin from laughter to tears of frustration
and you couldn't convince me that this life was for you and me
the moon was right, the stars were in align
and we couldn't make it to flight
but I swore that you had to go
love of mine, we left and died
and the beauty of it is, we're still alive
you're free to find your wife
my love withered away to nothing
I had no promises left I could keep
so that's that, we're both headed back to start
we passed go twice and did not collect $200
I know its not easy
but you couldn't fix me
you tried your best but what you saw as succeeding was misleading everything I needed
I was the bad girl to your perfect persona
trouble wrapped in a cute face
and im sorry
I don't know how to say, we were always destined to end
it was just the thrill of the hunt
because we could never love each other endlessly
and so now we're sleeping on floors of strangers we haven't met
wondering were constant schedules and consistency hid away
and someday I'll visit you
but I will never lie to you
about the love I let go
I'm sorry
it'll be a new year
and we'll take to resolutions of promises meant to be broken
someone is going to love you
more than I ever did
I wrote this song as a combination of about 20 songs. Here is the list:

The Freshmen - Jay Brannan
Another Like You - Sea Fournier
Heartsprings - Heiruspecs
Never Fallin' - Living Legends
Like Only Lovers Can - Ed Harcourt
Washed Your Car - Cloud Cult
A Thousand Years - Christina Perri
Coffee Break - Forever the Sickest Kids
Holding Patterns - Kind of Like Spitting
You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol
Colorblind - Natalie Walker
Nobody's Perfect - Katie Costello
Three Cheers for Five Years - Mayday Parade
I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
Skinny Love - Bon Iver
The Scientist - Coldplay
Fix You - Coldplay
Trouble - Coldplay
Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol
Thrill of the Hunt - Kind of Like Spitting
Endlessly - Green River Ordinance
Motorcycle Drive By - Third Eye Blind
Lying to You - Keaton Henson
New Year's Project - Further Seems Forever
Roses - Meg & Dia
No One's Gonna Love You - Band of Horses
588 · Aug 2015
My World
Linguistic Play Aug 2015
ideas of adventure rattle my chest
wanderlust sweaters knitted in my skin
and I can never take them off
i lace fingers with skylines
kiss a breeze in the sheets of rain
fall in love with the heart beats setting the earth to rhythm
and i can never forget my first love
they're always dancing
a synchronize syncopation of elation
around the one they truly loved
and I fell to the force of things I could not understand
but they never stopped dancing,
and i could never anchor them down
they laced my energy around them
and I'm lost to forever wandering
experiencing all my love's beauties
learning every curve of their spine
teasing their goosebumps when only the moon is awake
running over every scar and memory
and I'm infinitely, unshakably in love with every piece of you
every nation and country
every land mass and ocean
every bird and mammal
every tree and leaf
and I'm in love with every soul and energy
570 · Jan 2015
syllables
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
staring down the barrel, increasingly stretching darkness
to a bright light, tye-dye, good vibes
take a deep breath, cause what is said is rarely what you think it means
she says up, higher, but you're trying to go down
to bring her chest to raise higher and lower
she says why, when you're only looking for how
saying hi when you really mean bye
you bring your face to life in goodmorning, hi, hey, hello
bringing my mind to life in goodnight, bye, ok
oh ok, fine, uncertainties aren't your thing
but im the certain, im gettin nervous, no room to move
we're only bound to lose
wanderlust, my heart is
staying home learned the lines of yoda your mind knows
is where you find your greatest joy
everything is likely far from what it seems
similarities don't bind seams
new ideas bind two different fabrics
its magic
like the happiest place on earth, we're all searching
look up at the billboards sliding past your window
taunting you that happiness is just out of reach
but if you'd close your eyes and just imagine open skies
you might have less questions that stay at whys
561 · Sep 2014
no title
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
if victims were the cause we'd rearrange the letters to say *******
because its like taking a gun and aiming it at your morality, involuntarily
do you know how that feels? while you're sitting behind 5-star meals talking about how you arranged your latest will
but nobody was listening when I read the will for my morality
that died not a natural death, but a heart wrenching punch to the chest
that took all the air from the rest of my body and left me lifeless
do you know how that feels?
because being a victim is not victorious its vicious
when my wishes change from wishing to have the life back
to have the knife withdrawn from my back
of everyone who couldn't find positive words to respond
but they had to say something
so they found shallow
chastising
silence
because somehow I caused myself to be broken
but this story has a bright end
because none of that happened
because it took me 18 years to mention it to anyone
while I was still figuring out the definition of victim
and its just one
561 · Jan 2015
Have we met?
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
Do you know what love is?
the sound of an 'o' resonating into a twisted lock
it's suppose to be and infinite explosion
like a contradiction, a permanent contraction
of two lost souls who before stray and sway like a rope swing
that'll get taken advantage of flung behind the childlike whims
of a free falling jump that falls to the crackling of the ground beneath two feet
a mirror image of the security snapping slowly into the marrying of a morpheme and it's base
its the careful intertwining of letters that made me think of heartbreak
to place it a little less coyly
how easily we could marry in and security to bring the anti of the original meaning
and how less seamlessly we part from testing the waters
even if you did like swimming, getting out is always freezing
like the lack of warmth from a hug that's been gone too long
and I wonder why strength of a person is placed in something so temperamental
something that relies on maintaining a temper  that is not your own
it can drive you mental, an anger rid insanity
and how the strength of someone is supposed to slightly weaken
when the hands of strength practice holding too many other grips
but as easily as marrying one grip to mean less by merely adding 's'
i'd ask to take to test that maybe we're practicing holding onto you
a little more than less so that when our will gets a bit restless, you can stand straight and tall
instead of crumpled in a ball after the terrible fall
i cannot reconcile heartbreak and negativity
because I think that heartbreak and love are happily married
outside of the social constraints of a contract
and inside of unexplainable commotion of emotion
I know I ask a lot of questions
and I know I have a lot of theories
but what never made sense to me was how to love endlessly
like just in spite of me my senses would flee leaving me chasing
and leaving someone witnessing my fury of confusion
but perhaps it never made sense to me because I arranged a divorce between heartbreak and love
before I knew who either of them were
556 · Sep 2016
Heavy as a heartbreak
Linguistic Play Sep 2016
Sometimes the world gets loud, like a million cymbals crashing
and sometimes fear comes raining down, grabbing hold of the reigns and running your sanity hard against the ground
all of these perceived negatives sometimes feel like they're beginning to compound
like they're going to choke out the last of your breath, leaving you without a sound

Let your soul take your perspective, flip it upside down, turn you around
Sanity floating light, to the sky to kiss the stars, tracing your favorite dream in the night
Wander, knowing that you will survive, sometimes it takes feeling dead inside to know you're alive
Stay forever, imagining that you're in an image painted in fantasy
teetering on the edge of a dream and your reality
Paint it what you want it to be, watercolor your own night skies in memories with laughter soundtracks

People want to say how to wear your face, how to set your pace, how to make your heart race
Everyone's eyes are different, create a world for your eyes to joyfully trace
Introduce your reality to your most dazzling dreams, stay in your happiest reverie
Find yourself in a mystical haze, a contradiction of the tradition of a daze

Understand your heart skips when your mind takes to running
Carefully sleep, try not to miss a beat
Setting a peaceful cadence to your racing thoughts, stop to notice the
blooming perfections, an everlasting expression of pure elation
Run delicately through fields of sprouting memories,
And dance eternally in dreams of sincerity
with you we dress the skylines in laugh lines
and we will share this experience with those who've made promises with positivity
546 · Feb 2015
For the month
Linguistic Play Feb 2015
sometimes you fall in love all at once
and sometimes not at all
and every once in a while you tip toe in
like a childish whim out of bed
after they've already been safely tucked in
love is not something resting inside a body
for us to sneak up on and rustle out from inside.
if I told you I thought love was something
that you could build with me
a delicate masterpiece for just you and me to see
would you send your feet to racing
to something pre-built, something a little more easy
Inside this structure built by our memories
I can find home to safely tell you of the feelings I set to words
of the past we set to melodies
and how I hated it when things were a little uneasy
but something told me to stick around and not jump to an ending
so I locked my insecurities inside knotted fingers
that grew stronger in each clasp
and I'd tell you of how I didn't fight when you swept me off my feet
even though I told you to never lift me
and sacrifice my strong grounding
because everything I am resting in your arms was a fantasy
I'd tell you of how mad I was when I stopped writing
because I couldn't find anything I was confused of
except how to make sure this path didn't set astray
and I never wanted to plague the world with a love they couldn't have
I'd bring you stories of how I memorized your laugh
to play in my head when the world was daunting
how I'd kiss you the same number of times of every morning
to set a routine that wasn't set in monotony
I know that sounds like hypocrisy, but trust me
I'd grow into a story teller
as I recounted my perfect memory
of how I fell to you, of how I fell to be yours
but, I wouldn't leave out the parts of when I tried to run
before the journey had even begun
of when I told you I wasn't ready for anything serious
because I was delirious from questioning what I had done wrong
to so many future ones, from the past,
and how as the days would pass I swore to you
our intimacy was nothing,
our physical sincerity was fleeing before it hit you or me
but I'd tell you from a serpent tongue
terrified of what it could feel but not see
until eventually I knew I was lying when I said we were temporary
and I'd pull your frown from the ground when I reminded you
that honesty hit me so hard I couldn't stop fighting
for a reality involving you and me
so as you were falling to sleep
I hoped knowing that I loved you as much I hoped you loved me
would help you rest easily
and I choked out the saying truly wrapped in sincerity
and the truth left me trembling, but less uneasy
Here and now, I still restlessly fight with the thought of a lack of you
but when I steady my head, it's easy to find the strength I found in you
it's awe inspiring to take to realizing
that despite the work you and I have already employed
to build something that could even metaphorically take to standing
you still find me, simply smiling
and I'd tell you most of all
that I intend to love you through everything and anything
543 · Mar 2014
[space]
Linguistic Play Mar 2014
I consider minuscule matters in grandiose patterns that look like splatter
a splat of molecules and wit and love and precious oracles
and who is to make sense of the chaos in between these unseen things
but they rather sit and ponder these minuscule materials

silently, quietly, considering
gently plucking and picking the similarities
across the scenery of that in which makes no sense
inhale exhale
consider the mean
of meanings
and what it even seems

silently, quickly, mentally
snapping back and forth between reality and fantasy behind the mask
that protects me from you
and that and which over there
literally what this mask represents is all they try to expel you from

because the world is masked in frowns and desire
covering smiles and laughter that naturally breaks free from our skulls and lungs
but in this world we wear a mask to play hide and seek
the game we play so  hopelessly as children
and then so unconsciously as adults
whatever that is
the mask on the world only grows larger in strength
and its terrifying
human existence
and the unknowns
but that's the mask the terror and the horror
is painted on the mask
because human existence is nothing but beautiful
and im trying with every rhyme
and every winding turn in this compilation of the non existent
to show you and you and me too that the infinite beauty of this life
is indescribable
is unimaginable
is intangible
and this infinite beauty i call life
is you
in everything because nothing beneath this mask is not you
the mask that hides the earth
because you, infinite beauty and soul are the earth are the world
519 · Oct 2014
turn right
Linguistic Play Oct 2014
My biggest fear is standing within earshot of a crowd
in front of a microphone that'll amplify my thoughts
i've always hid in print like a theme you just can't figure out
because if I write slow my tendency to mix letters to a spaghetti mess hardly shows
but when words find their voice in my mouth
its like a shuttle race gone wrong
who goes first, is it the stutter or the lisp
theres too many s's like success just fits and sits amidst words smoothly spoken
when i  read out loud I remember the crowd of eager faces witnessing my sure demise
when it was the top five competing for that shiny prize at the the spelling bee

dyslexia
...
your word is dyslexia

like some sick joke in a word i've never heard that would come to shatter how I felt about my imperfections
running out in a frought...no...i meant a fright, not quite sure if I was headed to the right

you see, if you all put L's up to your forheads in your dominant hand, they all look right or left...or right
I missed my turn
to show my tiny world that I learned to read and spell like all the rest
instead of in a tiny jail cell in my head where I would write words in every which way to try and learn them in a way that made sense to all the rest
but instead I turned down a road of "its your turn to read out loud"...
so I'd read really slow not sure if I was reading a history of Korean or Japanese in English
but written in their natural direction for impact
and i'd get through a paragraph before they stopped me
because my words choked behind my teeth
its just embarrassing

let me tell you
leaving highschool was more relaxing than distressing
eventhough everyone that knew me was now left behind
and so I packed up my life in notebooks
and sealed them in a recycle bin
like I could recycle the thought of them
but no matter if I liked it or not
my letters would come to know no order
when stumbling out of my mouth like a night at the bar passed two
because nothing good happens passed two am
but I write according to my greatest whim
when all the hers and hims retire from a night at large
and so im still stuck here with words leaping from my pages looking for a home, in mouths that know how to shout and let it all out
but, no matter what, im trying
so I stand here now choking out this combination of consonants and vowels
because I know now, my imperfections will lead me to a story only I can tell
so thank you for listening to this garbage disposal of spoken notes I swore looked better when I left them just to be wrote
in notebooks bound by the thoughts of just me
515 · Sep 2014
good morning
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
the days of the week lost their meaning when all my thoughts fell out of my mouth in a run on sentence
runnin' past punctuation, gunnin' it for confusion
the fusion of what im sayin' is leading to fussing
over why nothing i've said is rooted in facts
never ending like a train on the tracks
racing car by car to the back of your memory
drowning out the world in the clickity clack
of typed words racing through my mind
it's all a blur, I never know the answer
i've never been less sure of the cure for the pain my mind is trying to endure but it's
magnificent, its magic that a mechanical miracle could ebb and flow with ease
this train of thoughts and words keeps growing like endless leaves on a tree
the willow branches that reach to the ground, sending a sense of peace all around as its growing in complexity
but now its on to the next thing, racing down the hillside
banging around, its the most brilliant tease
because even with all this racket and screeching
I'm still finding hope in hiding behind my thoughts
like we fade out our photos
blurring our noses and imperfections to make those click that heart
light it up in red, **** our senses are talking to the dead
im trying to remember, how to slow the world
that speeds by my windows
im seeing the world, forget it, its nonsense
my days move slow but my thoughts are racing
fighting for the gold medal, its pure insanity
running isn't an option when reality is chasing you, on your heels
if it catches me this might all go to hell
because if you could see, if you could see the insecurity,
if you could see the immorality
if you could see the pain and strife and the wanting for life
if you could find everything that would bleed out with a knife
that I hold inside
i'd find my hands tied at the small of my back
and I'd giggle in a half mad insanity, half ticklish agony
forcing my head forward
id be seen walking at a slow pace of defeat
because if reality catches me, im waging a war with skills of persuasion
that im not insane, but a deep thinker or something
but I never believed in fighting violence with violence
because I don't fight for things that have a lack of meaning
so I fight for space on a page to display what I have to say
im waiting to publish insanity for the readily accepted public
because if my work dates dollar signs then I wont be racking up fines
for stepping out of the common lines drawn between
between
between being successful and being the next successor of that kingdom
like everything the light touches belongs to you
but in a room of clouds, nothing lives in the now
you're faced to paint your past like a masterpiece of aging
paintings look real in natural light and in my room
the light is artificial like my reign over my mind
because my thoughts rule me, they're riding my actions like a slave master
hollering and shouting bouts of anxiety with every step
misstep
I digress, follow the light, green glow for go
the exit sign from this useless masterpiece of a rhyme
compressing the door to greet the increasing degrees
of positivity and flirting
with every step, in every fit
i think today, I'm going to finally get it
505 · Mar 2014
Punning away
Linguistic Play Mar 2014
Flirting with ideas daily
running through these facades of society mainly
skirting up to the offers to leave everything behind faintly

we're humanity we're society we're everything
we bind our limbs to things so we can cling
to a glimpse of something we could force to sing
but we avoid our dreams and most precious things
because we fear losing everything


to say in this place
making us a basket case
smearing the disappoint across our face
afraid to run in the race
that would lead us to a lace
of humanities untouched pace
its such a disgrace
we never leave this place
with such a familiar face
fearing the race
leads to a lace
of unfulfilled grace

we're humanity we're society we're everything
we bind our limbs to things so we can cling
to a glimpse of something we could force to sing
but we avoid our dreams and most precious things
because we fear losing everything

toy with the idea of running away
boy you and me we could take to a new sway
coy and brave in its paths astray
joy in belongings put away
deploy to a new place each day
boy you and me we can take to a new day
each day with no defined way
every day with paths astray
494 · Aug 2015
titles are just summaries
Linguistic Play Aug 2015
I want to see the world
I want to watch it unfold like a whisper into a secret
dancing in a different perspective
from what each set of eyes dreams it
I want to watch the world imagine
sprinkling a mana potion of possibilities
across the land for us to dance in
I want to see the world's mistakes
where its heart broke into the grand canyon
where it cried to fill the atlantic ocean
where it colored to create the flower fields of Holland
I want to listen to the world
while it commutes around the sun like a day job
while it tells stories to the stars like a fantasy
while it grieves over a tragedy just out of reach
I want to see the world
so I can show it a new humanity
not every human here is all we're cracked up to be
some of our souls are still dancing
looking down and up and rejoicing
we want to see the world
to understand it, fall in love, and come into unison
society is just a plague wiping out the brightened energies
but we're finding a cure, an infinite anecdote to the mess of man
and we'll come from the inside, to feel the world
488 · Feb 2015
sail in the storm
Linguistic Play Feb 2015
sometimes, it takes but one blow to drain all the wind from your sails
and sometimes, it takes a lot
whether less or more, your sails are still racing down
pulling the rest of you into a watery hell
your hair pulls down, following the rivers flooding your face
that have raced out of the gate of your closing eyelids
trying to catch up with your spine that can't hold you upright
from the ground there's a lot to see
it's just a little less dim and darkened
but rock bottom can be your greatest realization
488 · Oct 2014
pirouette
Linguistic Play Oct 2014
I have dreams that as the world spins
we will all succumb to noticing the motion teasing our insides
instead of tampering with everything outside of our grasp
I have grandiose dreams that as the world takes to an infinite pirouette
we'll take to practicing spotting so we don't miss this motion picture
spinning whimsically around our shoulders


I have dreams of a paint pallet nestled softly in your hands
while painting the details of our oceans and trees
for a live audience because maybe then
maybe then, we can see the world as the work of art it is
and stop burning books that haven't been written
maybe then, we can stop dumping buckets of the cure for so many lives over our heads
maybe then, maybe then, we'll see that we're all but a percentage of a brush stroke different, and the strife and wars and capturing of life has never been justified but rather lied about in a game of telephone spoken in different languages

now...that's a twist

I have dreams of our world over time in a stop motion
like as the sun creeped over our skylines it took a capture of the world each day
and in each flick of a photo gone by, leaves fall and never return because their frame work was stolen by thieves
the seas rise taunting the cities and the people bustling about the staggered streets
the sprawling fields you painted in the last stanza are peppered in a multiplying phenomenon of a species gone mad


and sometimes I worry my dreams are turning to nightmares
because I rarely conclude my stories with a mare riding into a sunset with a knight and his dreams
but I take to remember that your dreams are made up of a concoction of everything you see and maybe this elevated sense of realizing is everything I need
472 · Jan 2015
sentence jam
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
I woke up this morning with a skip in my step
an inconsistent beat vibrating my feet
coercing out the words stuck in my teeth.
I got so excited in between my coffee and log in screens
that my thoughts finally remembered their routine
of unorganized and coyly placed memories
writers block is kind of a funny thing
because its not just a wall you're standing at
while looking up and shouting for the next greatest epiphany
its more like every thought you have crashing against a metaphorical gate
and pressing you into one place until your hope and understanding starts to deflate
you see, its more like a dam
no wait, like a traffic jam
because the color red telling you to stop strobes ahead of your thoughts
and frustrations build higher and higher the longer you sit there.
concentration is essential because you don't want to skid into crashing
but instead try to look forward to floating when the tension lays low
because when your writers block lets go
and your thoughts find ease in a melodious flow
you forget about the fire to your ego
that blocked what you thought you might know
462 · Jul 2015
k's aren't always bad
Linguistic Play Jul 2015
i don't know where to start
im so far from enlightened
my mind was fright, my energy syphoned
by a energy less than excitement
but my heart is lightened

you were the alarm that woke my subconscious
that was weary from fighting with sub par reality
and took to a nap
your energy like a lightening
it still strikes me
the day broke, shaking my dimensions back to hiding
I wasn't lucid dreaming, this was living
and the heightened sense of reality
something to be rivaled

I wanted to take that night
bottle it up, turn it on to remind me
but it ran to the hearts and souls of everyone around us
this master of positivity energy we manifested
was meant to be shared
I captured a little bit of the positivity to take with me
and share with my reality

now, our energy is daunting
teasing through the waves of internet monotony
exhausting itself to half finished tales of life and reasoning
sleeping only when brought to unity
something about this was meant to be
a love bound by energy
doesn't necessitate a physical bonding
it transverses the planes of reality
coursing through an elated sense of understanding
to reconcile thoughts between the two energies
nothing is left to misunderstanding
when synchronization and harmony and peacefully vibing

I lost my cadence and rhythm
to let go to a flow I don't usually show
because my thoughts are skipping a filter
and finding themselves racing out the gates of my finger tips
change and progress are soon to find us
in a state of mutual harmony
459 · Aug 2015
Untitled
Linguistic Play Aug 2015
Your name is like a needle in my eye
a knife at the end of my tongue
a serpents flying venom
i wish it didn't flush out all the hatred
you say one thing and face another
so wrapped up in self you think you've found understanding
but your soul is but a sliver of everyone else's
and you experience the sliver you choose to see
eye so narrow you can't fathom open arms
and you say you can sense and feel others
when you're naivety is screaming, scaring away sincerity
437 · Sep 2014
a spoonful
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
I always loved games but the only thing I was truly good at was being competitive
but that was the element of fun, the game become a job
and this isn't going where you think it is
but there I go again, twisting and turning some made up play around your feet
so carefully constructed you could see through the passes
I was really more from the drama side of it
memorizing my lines carefully like a beat I had to march to
I never sat on the bench, because I was always a starter
but i sat the fight song out and  I had to look up that football reference
because I thought I was rebellious, taking to jazz to play solos
whatever would dance out from my bell
but when the last bell rang on my last day in first
and I got drowned out by trumpets staring down the horns by the modest flutes
i lost it, like medicine that wont go down
a spoonful of sugar didn't help anything when I buttoned up that jacket for the last time
oh, I had a merry tune to toot
because like every good marcher, i memorized my part
first, before the rest, and after the tie to second
I didn't bother much to play in 8ths instead of sixteenths
I conditioned for years, and had very little time to rest
being competitive made this sabotage become a piece of cake
oooh when that tape came back
and you were buzzing like a bee to find me
and i'd smile at the cassette you were holding, because a mouthful of sugar will help the medicine go down
that's where our story comes to rest, no more measures on repeat
and the only reason I write it down now
is for the laughter we consumed when you knew
I made your audition different
because who had any sense you'd play first inline with the trombones
and the sound of it
would be a spoonful of sugar, that made the medicine go down
Linguistic Play Jun 2015
when the lights go down
fears hit the road for a marathon
running through the folds of your imagination
past everything you last saw
a souvenir from every hour is picked up
all those you thought of show up at the finish line
to have a conversation never witnessed in reality

you always did like to sleep
but I tousled and would try to count sheep
you'd cozy up in your pillows and dreams
while I'd tiptoe around you, trying not to make a scene
and it's all quite the same
whispering 'I love you, rest easily'
it's just now, I'm only talking to you in my sleep


I tell you about all the little things that I've seen
and all the people you'll have to meet
when you wake up from your favorite dreams
but I'm still whispering 'I love you, rest easily'
even though inside I'm screaming
414 · Aug 2014
I stole your line
Linguistic Play Aug 2014
i’ll kick your ***, beat you down, and bring you up just to send you walking on my will
and I’ll never lift a fist
because I’m quick and full of wit, I spit with a venom born to a lyricist
I use to paint the floor with words born from my feet
and then my ******* muscles robbed me
and left me broken at the knees
when the light went dim in my dreams I knew that it was time to bring life to a different me
that found peace in the memories of tights and frills and pink
I found that familiar place, a tree house against a tree scape to escape from a broken place
remembering the way graphite carefully scratched against blank pressed tree
the coincidence that everything in my life would circle around a tree
the dream of a home in the leaves
the escape of a cloud from the different shades of green
the journey through life lines of trunk that hold all the secrets
I don’t want to tell you my thoughts
I want to bring them forth from the trees that silently watched the world unfold
like the spider that hung from the leaves, silently
I’m nothing you want to see
but I’m spinning a web of brilliance, it’s ******* seamless
you ever done something that is so important to you that you can’t explain to anyone
that’s what it is, the importance of my words unspoken, to me, is unbroken
the world is a scary place with a ****** up sense of humor
and we’re all just trying to cope, so don’t forget that
and give me 30 seconds to give you some hope that life is beautiful, coy, and a little sadistic and without you, my life takes to a bit of a *****
and if being sadistic isn’t your bread and butter i invite you to take some lessons in humor
grab my hand and lets walk through this life laughter hand in hand
the yellow brick road, it’s happiness
the journey is the joy, the goal is disappointing
of fake dreams behind a screen
don’t let the 30 seconds of ending rob the lifetime of journeys
this life has never been a roller coaster
unless you're coasting on dreams of fluorescent screens from nine to five,
of traffic jams and planned surprises
this life has never been stuck on tracks
unless you’re into that
let’s derail and explore the thoughts unmoved by curious fingers
blast off to a less supported life
with more room to roam
we’ll call it home and make it somewhere where you’ll want to come
403 · Sep 2014
3mw
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
3mw
grinding gears lubed with tears, conks of fears
watching our lives in third person
cause one, I took the train
and second couldn't find his shoes so he never left the house
removed and removed
washing liquid down to feel something new
like maybe just a few more stabs of caffeine and my eyes will open
press the shutter release for just a few more shots
cause what the **** are we going to do
every step is emulsion on this best selling picture
throw the negatives in the drawers, junk
like if its not seen it doesn't mean nothing
like the junkies sinking into the street
waging wars with humanity and street signs
signs hanging when our streets change from alphabets
to bets with god for the latest meal
its a modern day last supper
like sup girl whispers through the table
drown the woes of dinner conversation in the chances to kiss her
because sense only reaches as far as our toes
walk with confidence, but our brains have lost it
what you see is what you get
put your best foot next, one in front of the other
trained at birth to fool our limbs
to contort to our latest whim
washed out like our denim washes
**** him
376 · Jul 2015
baby mine
Linguistic Play Jul 2015
all these phone calls are pulsing in my head
i see halos every time I blink
a memory of you, so painful it brings me to my knees
they ask for so many things I don't know
my mouth is dry, coughing up 'I don't know, I don't know'
all the stories I want to hear and I can't find the books
limited edition is a life not cloned
mint conditioned is a life not lived
out of commission is a life not told
but im counting up all these pieces, shiny and tarnished to piece together stories
mysteries, i hope lead to my sanity
but all these stories are fantasies written from insanity

that doesn't feel right either,
let's try this lens on for a change
endless lines to wrap my mind to try and find a peace of mind

I close my eyes when I'm driving until I hear you screaming
You're eternally dreaming and you borrowed my serenity
Nightmares that terrify me, but I hope you're resting peacefully
I've been scratching at a dictionary looking for the words to manifest my grieving
but my feelings are bleeding and fleeing
you'd shake your head if you could only see me
375 · Jan 2015
See
Linguistic Play Jan 2015
See
Let me tell you about my best friend
and how nothing can be tip toed around coyly
because in this woven trampoline of past mistakes and future midnight dates
there is a sense of safety in knowing that anything can be said
like, stop doing that, it's annoying
it's not that I don't love you
or don't wear that, trust me
it's not that you're unattractive
the truth never hurts, but more is reassuring knowing its not misconstrued by alternative motives
and my best friend knows it takes a 12-pack and ice cream for the deeper scars
but it probably takes a 12-pack and ice cream for a casual night in
because its not about what resources we have
every night is hugged in laughter and will be a story that starts with "remember when?"
and have you had anyone sit by your side without a budge when you've been drinking for 6 hours
and you think you're hilarious when you're not
because my best friend shuts down the bar with me
and doesn't drag me out at 1:00am in fear of what could happen after 2
from questioning sanity to a socks off netflix party
you see my best friend make me angry
in a, "why the **** do you have to be right about that"
it's a hardly a pity
and my best friend makes me choke
because though my smile large, my laughter can't escape fast enough
and if you can't rock a dance floor and mash the buttons on a controller to victory
after hiking up a mountain and getting a degree, because we're smart you see
if you can't pull it together after 3 hours of sleep and still love life
there's a chance this poem isn't about you
but if your cards are stacked high and with each passing line you're nodding with a smile
chances are, the relationship I have with you is an everlasting masterpiece
of coyly placed disasters handled with grace
and nights vibrating on bass and sarcasm
chances are...
the relationship I have with you is everything
and thats just the thing about my best friend
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
when I was a young girl and could hold all my years in one fist
my mother would walk up to me and tell me to stop trying to make sense of it
because at the rate of change, by the time I figured it out it would be gone to another wonder of the world
and that made me wonder about how everything could be wonderful
and blissful and a tall tale of princes and princesses and magicians and witches
when I was a young girl i made a promise to my mother
that I would always be a young girl
that even though an old soul reading edgar allen poe and sneaking coffee with a ratio of sugar of cream that made my energy scream
I was still a child at heart and if I knew
if I knew that the greatest romance would be the careful dance
a delegate tango mix matched with a brisk swing prance
of an old soul talking to a child's heart
then the passion to save the world would never escape me
that even when lessons and trials crash on the endless moments of my life like an ocean of tidal waves washing over a million pebbles on a beach
I can still smile and walk along the beautiful masterpiece of complete serenity and chaos painting their novel and washing it away
because even though it all disappears, the life you create
is no more of a mistake than the ones that history books wrote to be great
it makes me frown when people say they've failed
against some scale thats left them chasing their tail into a rut so narrow you can't rest because its a maze sketched in an infinity sign
so I always try to remind them to look up
to stretch their gums up to greet the sun and create a draw bridge of happiness
to pull them out of it
because the key to life is positivity...ok fine its fourty two
four teas at two or for teams of two
or for the sake of finding a key, you should probably remind yourself that there is an infinite key ring that has a key to every door you want to open and test
it was always said when one door closes another one opens
but If you open them all, your experiences only grow more vast
and I made a promise when I was a young girl
that i'd stay in the world with my eyes wide open, leaping and jumping, into every door just to try it
369 · Dec 2015
something
Linguistic Play Dec 2015
my brain is buzzing
like a tiny coil, illuminating some brilliance
for the moment, it's electric
my eyes are wandering
not quite a magnet
unconsumed by any single attention span
my breath is swaying
like a calm sea at war with a small boat
through a telescope it's at ease
my senses are dancing
like a skilled set of feet
dangling in thin air at heights that are testing
367 · Sep 2014
Late night smoke break
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
Photography is natural
shutters laced in mascara
I capture things more quickly when things start to get to me
Teardrops on my lenses always did make things hazy
But most of the time I look for things in their simplicity
Like capturing your step
Just to learn the cadence
My memory is but a stop motion
Of everything set to earth’s rotation
and It always did seem creepy
That id remember things exactly
So I started pretending
That I forget almost everything
But when the theater lights go out
I replay all my favorite movies
Of exactly what life truly meant to me
Because with a photographic memory
Nothing is left coyly
Which comes to remind me
Of why I have to break things to see them differently
Because if you stare at a photo long enough
A thousand words come to mind
Which is why I was never a good photographer
And instead a bit of a geographer
Painting the world as I saw it
In the words that were left unspoken
Because they tend to make my life feel a little more vibrant
Like the saturation got turned up a bit
And it changed the way I remembered all of it
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