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Lizzy Love Sep 2015
My heart is a compass,
guiding me in the direction
I am meant to go.

Only when my path
is STRUCK with the
>>magnetic<<
dIscoMboBulAtiOn
of
<< o u t w a r d >>
opinions, and
s                
  p              
     r   i   n  k
                     l
                        e
                          d
with "should"s,
does it become
unclear.

Embrace the journey.
Through struggling,
striving,
and succeeding,
the optimal destination is in reach,
always.

I am there.
© Lizzy Collins
scar Jun 2015
my friend did a tarot reading
and i told him that the catalyst for change
had already happened

he asked what the catalyst was
what the change would be

i told him
that i couldn't tell him one, and
that the other was just me
wandering through the woods with no map
and pretending i was still
an orienteer.
You never grasped the fact
The reason
Why you, singing that song
meant a lot to me.

So I will put this plainly.
You are my home.
But ironically,
You are my north too.
And it is my heart...
If my heart is a compass
It would definitely always point to you.
ephemeral May 2015
I hope that one day in the future, we'll come across each other by chance (or maybe some twisted miracle).
I might have a doctor's appointment to attend, and you might be on your way home from a long day at work, but all of that will become irrelevant.
We'll go to that one hole-in-the-wall coffeshop that's almost a part of our daily routine, even though we're way too young to be addicted to caffeine.
We'll sit and catch up, and it won't be awkward in the slightest bit- it'll feel as though no time had passed at all. It'll seem as though you never had to leave, and take my heart with you.
It won't matter that you broke the promise you made me that one night. I had been vulnerable, and I told you about all the people I lost, and how I couldn't bear to lose you. You held me tight then, and told me not to worry- we'd always be in each other's lives. (I ended up losing you anyways.)
I'll have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, because I spend so many of my nights lying awake and thinking about finding my way back to you one day, but there you would be, real and tangible and with me again. And God, I'd be so happy. You've always made me so happy.
okay to explain the title- the person dreams about finding their way back to the person they love, but their compass is broken so they're completely lost. this poem is kind of like a dream for them, because they miss this person so much, and all they want is to see them again.
Everything flows

bounces
weaves
yearns
loves
to dance

To the rhythm of a Great dancer

Celestial
She
Is
The Creator
Is
He

It is above
It is below
It is there
It is here

Eternally Ever
Written Within
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
Thomas EG Feb 2015
I may never truly learn how to love this chest of mine, but I am sure that I could learn how to love what is buried inside of it.

I cannot draw on the moon... Cannot let my admiration literally shine down onto you, through the darkness. The moon is a poem within itself, but even the celestial beauty of that planet could not compare to the music that is your smile.

If I were to speak with a passion as warm and as slow as this, I assure you that you would listen... You would believe me. I would rather not deceive them, but it depends on how they perceive me, versus how I perceive my-definite-self.

Because I may be who they know me to be, but that does not make me what they presume me to be.

So call me strange, call me queer... Just know that you can call me any time and I will still be here, for you. I will not disappoint, nor shall I ever disappear, from you.

Because my heart is a compass and I am more than willing to travel all the way to 'Destination: You'. What an exciting journey! Alas, I can only go so far before feeling dehydrated... Yet I shall go on, for I have faith that you, of all oceans, will have the power to quench my thirst.

You are my seven seas, my poetry... My music, my long-lost lullaby... But you are more than just a masterpiece, darling. You are my sense of direction, for you are not only my art, but my heart... And you cannot help but stop beating, when I hear even so much as your greeting.

You wonder why... Ha. Je t'aime, ma chère, je t'aime... À bientôt, ma chère. I have not found you yet, but I am getting there.
Liv Feb 2015
I want to get lost in the right directions.
Find my way among the stars.
Use my heart as a compass and my mind as a map to figure it out.
I want to feel the freedom when I breathe, feel a new ground underneath my feet.
And, if things go as they wish, maybe I'll end up happy amongst the stars themselves and shine with the intensity of a thousand stars.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
"When I am with you I could never lose my sense of direction.
My hands are my compass and they are telling me you are my
Home".
Mel Harcum Jan 2015
My parents gave me a pink childhood framed with lace and luxury--
but a black stain has spread there, deep as the amount of time
I’ve spent thinking about what people are capable of, and how they can stand
hanging a mirror in every bathroom, because water cannot clean people
of the lie they told their brother or the betrayal inflicted against their friend,
some wrongs of which may never be realized, but will always remain
in the form of a new freckle on my left cheek or shadow beneath my eye.
And I am sorry, because I should have sooner heeded my mother’s words
when she told me I was the moral compass grounding you stonedust streets.

Your childhood resembled a light bulb broken before it tasted electricity,
no one taught you North from South and how different the terrain may become
when you find yourself in the mountains with only sandals on your feet.
I had been that for you, and you told me as much every weekend we spent
riding in the bed of my father’s pickup truck and shouting against wind-gusts
that threatened to carry our voices away from one another--

I have sinced learned there are many ways to **** a person.
I killed you when I stole your sense of direction like floorboards from beneath
your cracked and bleeding feet, and allowed you to fall--who knows how far--
landing in a pile of skin-biting needles and leftover sediment,
the very bottom of brown-glass bottles strewn across the floor.
Staying would have saved you, I’m sure, and I’ll never forget that I turned away
out of fear, cowardice, because I hated the sight of your skin-and-bone crowd,
friends in name but not in heart, and left you lost among them,
And you who knew no better remained, your humanity
expelled with each smoke-laden breath and then evaporating, nonextant.
Courtney Gaura Jan 2015
I carry a broken compass
It's a store bought thing
It's been dropped so many times
When compared it points the wrong way
Always pointing south
When north is the other way
Now though the needle doesn't move
I've gotten lost a few times
But I have found my way
Somebody bought me a necklace
It's a pendant
It's a compass rose
Show me the way
Through this hell
It's sterling silver
For protect
Came with the words
'To help you find your way
May your journey
Give way to the adventure
Of never dying '
Odd way to put it
I carry a broken compass
Maybe it will point
Me to the end
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