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I am allowed to hate you.
I am allowed to spit your name out of my mouth.
I am allowed to cry acid tears.
I am allowed to guard my heart.
I am allowed to not speak to you for years.
I am allowed to drink more than I should.
I am allowed to miss you, still.
But what I am not allowed to do,
what I will never be allowed to do is
think that I am not allowed to find love again.
Dead from 8-4
Fingers sore
Weak core
Faxing war
Still poor
Nothing more

Out the door.
 Sep 2015 Sean Hastings
princessv
the person you want the most is the person you're best without
but god do i hope thats not true
I ain’t like those any other story
That you put on a shelf
And read whenever you please
I’m not the kind of story
That collects dust
And wait for someone to pick me up

I always try to find my way
In every way possible
In every human I meet
In every heart, bones
In every ink my pen produce
In everything I see

I am that kind of story

That kind you can’t leave in the best part
That kind you will cry with the worst part
That kind you can’t forget even if you tried
That kind of story you will be wondering why

I am that kind of story

I’m a best seller
A limited edition print
A classic
A nonfiction
A real romance


I have battled dragons
Pirates and Evil queens
Uses magic to conquer them
By all means

I am that kind of story

My intro is soft and sweet
Altered chapter
Read between the lines
I promise I’ll patch the conflict
And build suspense
For now enjoy my ******
Cause I’m still rewriting the ending

I am that kind of story

But you still put me on a shelf
Just to purely fill space in your library

Someone else has come around
And never put me down
He have seen the value I see in me
He go beyond the cover
See me as more than pretty words & poetry

And come back & find I’m gone
Not a trace of my ink, my page or my words
And you’ll realize
I was best story you’ve ever been apart of

because I am that kind of story.
I

The Princess sings:

I am the princess up in the tower
And I dream the whole day thro’
Of a knight who shall come with a silver spear
And a waving plume of blue.

I am the princess up in the tower,
And I dream my dreams by day,
But sometimes I wake, and my eyes are wet,
When the dusk is deep and gray.

For the peasant lovers go by beneath,
I hear them laugh and kiss,
And I forget my day-dream knight,
And long for a love like this.

  II

The Minstrel sings:

I lie beside the princess’ tower,
So close she cannot see my face,
And watch her dreaming all day long,
And bending with a lily’s grace.

Her cheeks are paler than the moon
That sails along a sunny sky,
And yet her silent mouth is red
Where tender words and kisses lie.

I am a minstrel with a harp,
For love of her my songs are sweet,
And yet I dare not lift the voice
That lies so far beneath her feet.

  III

The Knight sings:

O princess cease your dreams awhile
And look adown your tower’s gray side—
The princess gazes far away,
Nor hears nor heeds the words I cried.

Perchance my heart was overbold,
God made her dreams too pure to break,
She sees the angels in the air
Fly to and fro for Mary’s sake.

Farewell, I mount and go my way,
—But oh her hair the sun sifts thro’—
The tilts and tourneys wait my spear,
I am the Knight of the Plume of Blue.
Sometimes
before you arrive
I imagine the drive
the dusty winds
roads blown sand blind
the breath hot desert
red upon your back
the drown of dripping sweat
a mirage, a swimming lake
an oasis, of mind escape
how you travel as saguaro fields fly by.
when I told the only person I trusted
about all the times I tried
and failed
to die,
they told me that I can't have meant it
judging by the fact
that I am still here.

I did mean it.
and my broken mind
and my burning stomach
wish that I didn't.
I wish that I didn't.
but I also wish that I meant it more.
maybe then everything would stop
hurting so much.
maybe then I wouldn't regret failing.
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