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 Aug 2014 Olivia Diphilippo
AR
and if you knew,
truly knew.

you'd know,
how much i miss you
how much i yearned to be with you, just for one more moment.
one.

but its impossible,

we're now parallel lines.
Today, poetry is in my bones--
words reverberating against flesh,
holding up my body
through ribcage and skull.
I am a skeleton of sonnets.
If you were to cut me open,
verse would flow out:
I stain pages with ink-splot blood.
 Aug 2014 Olivia Diphilippo
A
stargazing
hot chocolate
music
christmas lights
autumn leaves
cuddling (in theory)
performing
long hugs
flowers
children in grocery stores begging for pop tarts
late night talks
the thought of you
the thought of us
seeing you from afar as I walk into school
Just you
Whether it's as a lover, a friend or a colleague, I can't live without you! 4
In the end
the lone survivor
comes to learn,
a bit too late,
what is his, and their
and our
ultimate fate.

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

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

but, they all fall
in the end.

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

but they all fall
in the end.

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


- by Mercurychyld
  Copyrights
Inspired by a movie about a group of men trying to survive a plane crash, in a snowed region.
I knew there was something about her
the first time I saw her.
There she was,
standing at the keg
pouring beers
for a long line of guys.
Her ample chest
was falling out of her blouse,
she had the deepest cleavage,
was passing out kisses
to all the boys.
And as I got closer,
I could hear
she was slurring her words
& taking verbal ****
from the ******* around me.
They were laughing
worse than sick clowns,
calling her all sorts of
disrespectful names.
And sadly,
I stood there thinking
"Hey dudes, none of this is her fault."
She was telling them
her daddy said she was a great kisser...
and asking them,
"Would you like to find out?"
My
I cannot help how I feel...*
Yes, you can.

That's why they're called
Your feelings.

Trust me, I know it's not
Easy to tell your heart

Who's boss. Like all other
Things, it takes practice.

Practice, will and dicipline.
Growth; the most human of

Human movements; always
Being between.

Let your heart cry. Cry itself
Dry, then beat on.

Lighter. Stronger. Grown.
I'll never touch your face

Again
, I sigh to a photo. Then
Burn it. This is dawn;

Nothing to see in the
Dark night now behind.

There will be other faces.
These are my hands.
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