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dani evelyn Mar 2017
the truth is that my heart feels like it’s broken and blooming all at once.
the truth is, i thought you might be the one
to reach in and rescue me.
the truth is
i cannot stop watching you,
i don’t know what it is that you want.
i don’t know if i could give it to you
if i knew.

the truth is that it has taken a long time for the pieces of my heart to fit right in my chest.
the truth is, i was just beginning to feel strong
again.
if only you knew how your smile has sent all my fault lines into a panic,
every inch of my body braced for the earthquake
bound to come, atoms
climbing into doorframes,
opening the bunkers.
even the way you put your hand in your pocket ***** me up. i can’t pretend anymore.
i’m not pretending.

the truth is i’d **** to put a stethoscope to your heart;
we can play doctor, two kids under the dinner table.
if you run out of here, full speed, i can’t promise i won’t follow.
the truth is,
i just want to know how it ends.
Meaning

They say a drunk man's talk
is a sober man's thoughts.
Frankly, there is some truth to that;
but drunkenness has a way of muddying meaning.
When I said I loved you
I meant it.
However what I meant by it was just what you think,
and so much more.
I love you not just physically,
mentally,
spiritually,
but on an emotionally dependent level.
You have a way of getting me high.
Higher than any inebriation can or ever could.
I love you for being my friend.
For believing in what I believe in
on my behalf.
And, most importantly,
for not shunning me for my flaws.
For all you do for me without even really trying,
I should kneel at your feet at the sight of you,
and thank whatever cosmic coincidence
brought me before you.
For you are walking, talking,
breathing:
Therapy.
So, for the next time I'm too drunk to stand,
and am throwing up as you hold my hair back:
Know that afterwards when I kiss you,
hug you,
tell you I love you, even.
Know now,
Exactly what I mean.
Jack Jenkins Jun 2016
A poet with vibrant soul
Eloquence within every word
Departure for Heaven's gate
An eternal rest is his fate

Inspired many such writers
And beloved by many more
Family always close to his heart
A heart larger than it's size
A poet from this site is gone. It seems Mr. Chris Vaillancourt has passed away. Though I never got to speak with him personally, I fell in love with his wonderful works. I'll be glad to see him when I pass from this world and maybe get to know him, then. :)

This is where I found out.
http://poetfreak.com/705083/chris-vaillancourt-rip.html
Ellie Sora Feb 2016
To be honest, if you asked me now if I still love you, I would say “Of course”
‘cause, in the end, I still do, even if it makes me worse
I can lie to myself but I’d still cry for you
Every now and then I think of you and I hope you think of me too

You know, you could hurt me a lot but, in the end, I’d still love you
Don’t ask me why ‘cause I don’t know, I have no clue
Maybe I just don’t want my feelings to turn out to be lie
Or maybe I like the idea of love and I don’t want it to die
Or maybe you’re just... I don’t know
I just can’t seem to let you go
Oh **** it, why did we have to meet?
Why didn’t you just ignore me instead of acting so sweet

I don’t know what I want, to forget you or not
‘cause that love is all I’ve got

You don’t ******* know how much you cause me pain
And when I think I’m never gonna have you, it feels like my life’s goin’ in vain
You know what that means, Chris?
It means that Death could be my only bliss
And though I might deny it, I’ll love you, Chris, forever
The idea of the one you used to be, however
Bill murray Feb 2016
"This is a song..."
"This is uhh, This is a new song..."
"It's through the eyes of one of the greatest people alive, I feel..."
"The Lunchlady"
[Laughing]

Woke up in the morning
Put on my new plastic glove
Served some reheated salisbury steak
With a little slice of love
Got no clue what the chicken *** pie is made of
Just know everything's doing fine
Down here in Lunchlady Land

Well I wear this net on my head
'Cause my red hair is fallin' out
I wear these brown orthopedic shoes
'Cause I got a bad case of the gout
I know you want seconds on the corndogs
But there's no reason to shout
Everybody gets enough food
Down here in Lunchlady Land

Well yesterday's meatloaf is today's sloppy joes
And my breath reeks of tuna
And there's lots of black hairs coming out of my nose
In Lunchlady Land your dreams come true
Clouds made of carrots and peas
Mountains built of shepherds pie
And rivers made of macaroni and cheese
But don't forget to return your trays
And try to ignore my gum disease
No student can escape the magic of Lunchlady Land

Hoagies & grinders, hoagies & grinders
Hoagies & grinders, hoagies & grinders
Navy beans, navy beans, navy beans
Hoagies & grinders, hoagies & grinders
Navy beans, navy beans
Meatloaf sandwich
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

Well I dreamt one morning
That I woke up to see
All the pepperoni pizza
Was a-looking at me
It screamed, why do you burn me
And serve me up cold
I said I got the spatula
Just do what you're told
Then the liver & onions
Started joining the fight
And the chocolate pudding
Pushed me with all its might
And the chop suey slapped me
And it kicked me in the head
It's called revenge Lunchlady
Said the garlic bread
I said what did I do
To make you all so mad
They said you got flabby arms
And your breath is bad
Then the green beans said
You better run and hide
But then my friend sloppy joe came
And joined my side
He said if it wasn't for the Lunchlady
The kids wouldn't eatcha
You should be shakin' her hand
And sayin' please to meet ya
She gives you a purpose
And she gives you a goal
You should be kissin' her feet
And kissin' her mole
Now all the angry foods
Just leave me alone
And we all live together
In a happy home

Thanks to
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe
sloppy joe, slop, sloppy joe

[Spoken]
Well me & sloppy joe got married
We got six kids and we're doing' just fine
Down in Lunchlady Land
Haven't heard this classical Saturday night live special in a good while but when I hear it gives the old beater a chuckle. Composed  by the madman Adam ******* and used chris Farley in his skit, rest in peace Farley's young comedic spirit
Kylie Formella Jul 2015
your intentions were always the color of those bloodshot
blue eyes
and i know baby,
i know you're sorry
you don't have to say it
almost like
it might've made me stop bleeding
this scarlet
and i used to hate
the ruby feeling in my chest,
this burning ache
this fire
but here lately when the sun goes down,
i start to like the way it hurts
when the sun leaves
i meet you in the night time i dont
think i've ever seen your eyes in the light
or maybe-
i guess maybe the moonlight
and those crimson eyes,
they shined
and i watched i couldnt look away i guess
maybe i sound like i havent been getting much
sleep- i havent
been listening to anyone lately
they tell me to just let it go, and for some
reason it just sounds like they're asking me to jump
right into your red wine lies
Cori MacNaughton Jul 2015
Depression might not
be helped by a book that starts
with a suicide
Third of four poems written this morning.
I decided to get out of my weekend blue funk by listening to the audiobook of Christopher Moore's inspired insanity, namely his book "The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove," which may well be the funniest book I've ever read.  
Naturally, having read the book around ten years ago, I completely forgot that the book opens with a suicide, which of course struck me as hilariously funny in context.  
Especially since depression - namely the depression gripping the whole town - figures prominently in the story.  
Yeah, I'm weird.  ;-)
strong desire Mar 2015
it seems that all the autumn leaves are falling
I feel like you're the only reason for it
All the things you do, all the things you do, all the things you do
All the things you do, all the things you do, all the things you do
It seems that you're the only reason for it
I like this song so don't be a buzzkill
kylie formella Dec 2014
I remember you. I can't forget.
You clean sailboats for a living,
and you love it.
You're already who you're meant to be.
And I'm just wandering from
state of being
to state of being
trying to figure out
how to be the one for you.
Your favorite color is blue.
You told me to remember that, I do.
You were born in June,
the 13th.
We didn't know each other yet when you turned
17.
I know you probably look at me as being
so reckless,
for a 15 year old it's probably
not okay.
We knew each other by my birthday,
late September.
I guess we weren't on good terms then,
and I wished to see you when I blew out the candles.
It was kind of dumb, my wish didn't come true
anyway.
Now what are we?
We're hundreds of different types
of oppressed emotions,
battling each other all at once.
And to put it quite simply,
I love you
wholeheartedly.
Until there's nothing left,
I will love you.
Regardless of whether you love me back,
even if you push me away,
even if you love somebody else,
I know that I won't be able to stop.
I'm sorry for not being able to
give up on you.
i miss you so much
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