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I feel like going back to those days, when I could feel and not fear it. When I didn't know the world's ways and I didn't yet need my fighting spirit. When I could simply have a romance, nothing complicated or categorized, that would come up by happenstance with no limits needing to be devised. I miss those days, I could awaken find another body next to mine, and not even be mistaken in thinking this won't be the only time. I miss those days with a passion, too often I feel like I'm crashin' straight through the mud and the dirt all the pain and the hurt. I render my poems inert, when I stare in the mirror, see myself crying and dying, insanity getting nearer. I one day hope to rise from it all, stand from the ash, proud and tall, but I know that after I do I'll eventually once again fall. I miss those days in more than a million ways. Watching my eyes glaze over thinking about days over again. I flow my heart into this pen put my soul into what I write now and then. I know I'll be that happy once more, I've got that joy kept in store, for a future when I suture this wounded pride and mind. I've got a stride in mind, for when I return. See the surprise in their faces, I bet they thought I would burn up in the anger like butane. I'm just too hard to contain and I walk through cold rain, thinking about once upon a time, through sweat and grime, You were mine, I was yours, now it's vice versa.
0
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
I Miss Those Days
I feel like going back to those days, when I could feel and not fear it. When I didn't know the world's ways and I didn't yet need my fighting spirit. When I could simply have a romance, nothing complicated or categorized, that would come up by happenstance with no limits needing to be devised. I miss those days, I could awaken find another body next to mine, and not even be mistaken in thinking this won't be the only time. I miss those days with a passion, too often I feel like I'm crashin' straight through the mud and the dirt all the pain and the hurt. I render my poems inert, when I stare in the mirror, see myself crying and dying, insanity getting nearer. I one day hope to rise from it all, stand from the ash, proud and tall, but I know that after I do I'll eventually once again fall. I miss those days in more than a million ways. Watching my eyes glaze over thinking about days over again. I flow my heart into this pen put my soul into what I write now and then. I know I'll be that happy once more, I've got that joy kept in store, for a future when I suture this wounded pride and mind. I've got a stride in mind, for when I return. See the surprise in their faces, I bet they thought I would burn up in the anger like butane. I'm just too hard to contain and I walk through cold rain, thinking about once upon a time, through sweat and grime, You were mine, I was yours, now it's vice versa.
This started as something different than it was. It's not really complete, but I don't think I'll finish it, so...
spencer-dennison
Written by
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
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