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Jan 2013
Lost and wandering with out a story
a midnight lampshade stretched out over glory
not tricks or tracks up my sleeve
no more wanting, no more to grieve
a silent not darkness has swallowed my skin
sallowed and sickly the light moves within
and deep in the conscious lying there
is my soul flying naked and bare
never wrote more truer story of romance and sin
and it got thrown out with the cat food in the bin,
and now it is different the air smells alive
i can feel it beneath me making me drive
and there are no words, though i use far to many
for every time i screamed **** i found a new penny
and it was there all along just under my pen
i'd already written about them in everything back then
and oh what is love, i hear the bells cry
it was not those girls who chose you to die
for their misfortunes and weakness and 'what the **** evers'
i am neat, petite, i keep it together
i kept myself for him though i never knew him before
There was a number behind the back door
too many women to **** around too many times
too many the focus of my love rhymes
what for? whatever...what the ****...?!!
sssshhh...i even tried to write one a book!!
oh i can laugh now, oh i can laugh at myself
with a encyclopedia of ****** wealth
That was me? Who was i back then,
What did i correct? What was with the red pen?
and now there is my eyes, my heat, my kiss
every moment is a feeling of bliss
There's everything i searched for without knowing
and every night in the wind its blowing
their name, the air is breathless in here
and yes i have cried many a salty tear
for all the thousand pieces of my heart i have given out
there is to be a million more given, without a doubt
and i am sad for those who cannot feel like i do
i am sorry for repeating all those 'i love you's'
because it was not real, i'm sorry it was something else
maybe something that carried some sort of wealth
they were not even close to how my garden grows
how could i be so blind to what was right under my nose?
oh my sweetest love, my sweetest kiss,
there is nothing else i can give you but all of this,
I begged, stolen and borrowed hearts, black and blue
and my arms have fallen inside out for you....
Rachael Stainthorpe
Written by
Rachael Stainthorpe  Huddersfield
(Huddersfield)   
753
   Bluelips, Passion fire hope and JM
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