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i keep my window open at night to feel the breeze blow my hair across the pillow and tilt my head back to look at the stars. it always starts me crying because the night sky is so big and beautiful and because somewhere across the world your time catches up with mine while i am sleeping and because you may be looking at the same patch of stars as i am and that is crazy beautiful. i wonder if you look at them and think of me or if you can't even see them in your suburban block and you don't care anyway because you're too busy looking at the sparkle in her eyes to notice those distant specks of light.
thursday 13th november '14 ~ i feel closer to the stars than you
Austin B Nov 2014
You continue to exemplify everything beautiful in this world
The heavens above exalting a thousand trumpets
Symphonies hailing from the mountains,
Her intoxicating smile glistening, biting my lip in allusion.

Your eyes unimaginably delicate,
Thinking of you, a piano chorus dwindling on repeat.
Your bashful beauty,
Alway makes rainy days come to a hault.
So much wrong in this world,
Pressure, decisions and guilt,
And I am just here admiring you.


Everytime I look at you,
My lump heart skips a beat.
Clenching my sweaty hands,
I have seen you a million times before
But you mesmerize my love struck mind.
Every inch of you, impeccable and unchangeable.
oh no Nov 2014
it’s not like I think it was meant to be this way
our pasts are woven into tapestries our bruises
look the same
“she took a beating and so did you” I know. I felt it too
the puddles of our footprints run together the winds that shaped you
ground me to the dirt
the rest of this journey was a blur but I remembered you
“she took a beating and she’s
beautiful”
you’re the rarest thing I’ve ever loved you’re the purest thing in me
the first time I saw you your story was rewritten in my eyes
with the first note of your copper voice you took me and ever since
I run blood red,
heart, and all,
I want nothing more than my hands in yours, for once
it’s like you could love me without killing me too
(I am used to teeth and claws they ate our hearts out,
you and me,
all this time, my face blood red,
all blood, and all)
it’s not fair of me to drag you back into this, and
with my hand on my healing throat I will not say anything at all
our pasts on leashes left on trees our bruises
look the same (like sour galaxies, like stains,
our skin blood red,
stars, and all)
you’re the purest thing I’ve ever loved, I love you
(love you, love you, and all)
in you I run blood red, heart, and all, and
for once it doesn’t feel like dying
with your hands on my busted knees I will not say anything at all
“she took a beating
and she left”
(as well she should)
someday I will let you go but we will run blood red,
hearts, star-crossed, and all
sorry everyone
Freddy S Zalta Nov 2014
I found an old batch of papers - wrapped in an old pony tail.
I pull it off and the papers fall , leaving a trail,
So many memories and times from so long ago.
Wasn't it just yesterday when I was your hero?
Wasn't it just yesterday you would sit on my lap laughing?

I was your pillow, I fed you on that couch and I read you books about caterpillars, giants and dork's diaries. Singing you to sleep - "beautiful boy" and "daddy's home."

The clocks are working - 60 seconds is a minute and 60 minutes are hours. But it seems like years have turned to weeks and I have grown and wilted like a flower.

Time should be measured against itself. When I would walk in to the house you would run to me and I would be beside myself.

In the middle of the night you would cry - I would tell your mom to rest - I would run to see you and I would hold you to my chest.

I would sit with you - bottle in my hand, your hand wrapped around my finger and me kissing your cheeks...

I am so proud of who you have become - but I cannot help but feel overrun by the clock on the wall and the watch on my wrist. Now I close my eyes and I realize I was born for this. A love so magical nothing can be stronger, so unconditional  - a love for a son and daughter.
The Chameleon is as beautiful as its surroundings
So the surroundings affect the chameleon's beauty.
Yet, if there is no beauty around,
it'll be the chameleon who interferes with
the surrounding, being now the
"beautiful chameleon in a beautiful place"
OFV
Sky E Nov 2014
sing
sing
sing

again

just dont
forget
to
ring again
hope u enjoy~~~<3
Phoenix Rising Nov 2014
Portals we call 'experiences'
We merge into the mindsets of our various friendships
Feasting like parasites, off of bliss and bruises
Walking out one door into another
Farewell to old parties
Tiptoeing out of other people's stories
I can't recognize who I was before
I am who I am now
"I can't believe I said that"
"I can't believe I did that"
Words we repeat throughout this journey
Rippled reflection from pulling my head out of the water
Drip drying pasts fading fast
Sober psychedelic experiences from our God within
Telling us to awaken the light we have been given
Hannah Nov 2014
I would set fire
to all the flowers in sight
and watch their petals turn to ash
just to give myself a chance
for you to see me
as beautiful
-h.w.
Do you even think flowers are beautiful?
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