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If I could paint you a picture of what you do for me,
Millions of miles away,
It'd be you on a mountain top standing so clean as a King
At the bottom of that mountain,
Crawling through mud and rock,
Scraped and bruised all over trying to get to the top,
To reveal my mangled and broken soul

But..

With every broken nail and pull up, another scar fades...
One night
Not far from this moon
the Hounds of your words
Will find me out
Then I'll begin another life
In disguise of a haiku
 May 2015 Simon Obirek
REAL
Untitled
 May 2015 Simon Obirek
REAL
its been so cold
lately, our skin get goosebumps
we hide under your covers
and hug it out till the summer
theres something telling me " you're  the one"
i still can't believe I'm the one
who gets to hold you,kiss you
run my hand through your black hair
and stare deep into your eyes

and i can't take it!
my love, you make me crazy
with the way  you smile
and stare
darling we've  said so many times
but i can say it forever more
 May 2015 Simon Obirek
cait-cait
you were merely a gut feeling
that ate at me,
like a syrup in my stomach,
eating away at all my acid,
and dragging me
down,
down,
down.

but you were heavy, and
i could tell that you
knew this,
for i guess
i was the same
as all the others
in my place,

and it was only today, when
i woke up once again,
and realized that i dont have a clue
what youre thinking,
that i remembered that not only
do gummy worms exist,
but that everything would
be okay.
read a story about a lady in this sitch so i wanted to write a poem about it
Fog filled the air
but the view was beautiful
The budding leaves were misted
by the delicately falling rain
The ground was soft beneath our feet
from winter's gradual thaw
soaking the dirt and grass
You stood at the edge, silently
admiring the frozen lake
A word was never exchanged
but so much was said
A new beginning for us both
En tom stol, forladt, ensom og itu
ligesom det kys der er blevet gemt ovre i hjørnet
et kys der aldrig vil blive samlet op igen

Du fortalte mig at det føltes som om
at livet glider igennem dine kolde hænder
men det eneste der bør glide gennem dine fingre
er mine fingre

Jeg går rundt med et kort over himlen
ikke én eneste sky at se, ingen syngende fugle
eller hurtige flyvemaskiner
Måske er dit hjerte ikke det eneste der er tomt
Men hvorfor siger man så
at der er mere mellem himmel og jord, spørger du
You're the yellow pages of my second-hand book.
You're the shoe bite in my old pair of shoes.
You're the red of my swollen, melting eyes.
You're the lullaby of my sleepless nights.
You're the after-taste that burns my mouth.
You're the nightmare of my dreams uncouth.
Breathless. Gasp. Smother.
You're my desire path to doom.
Desire Path is the path created through the woods by walking through it, solely for the purpose of reaching one's destination in the shortest possible time. In short, its a short cut through places that cannot be traveled through.
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