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Candis Soul Oct 2018
I don’t think I will ever have the courage to tell you how I feel. I am just going to write it to myself right here. Last I gave my heart to someone it fell through, I was so sure of it I bet my life. I put it to the test and found out just how bad were for each other. Then another and another. Time is hasty and I feel my time nearing. I am not sure what is going through your mind and I am not going to pretend to know. I can only guess. The events that have been happening have lead me to feel this way. I believe in my heart there is something in your heart for me. I am your friend day maybe more. I don’t know if you want this for a brief moment or for a while. I cannot do a brief moment with you. I think that would destroy me. I have not felt this way about a person in a long time. Maybe I am babbling maybe I am imagining all of this. I feel like this has been going on for a while. Here and there. Please tell me what you are thinking....feeling?? Help me understand so I can understand these feelings or give them up. I don’t want to say I love you but I do I feel the words pressing against my lips as I suppress them from coming out. I don’t want to freak you out but I truly do love you. I am having a hard time admitting this to myself because I have been heartbroken a couple times which has made me doubtful and jaded. When I am with you those feelings disappear and all I feel is warmth and real love. Or is it my imagination. So many feelings all over the place. I feel like I am a chaotic mess because I am entranced and spelled by you. I know of the current situation and it is killing me. I stayed away so long but I can no longer do it. Breath me in or breath me out. Let me in or let me go. I wish to always be your friend if anything but I don’t ever think I can stop loving you
In love with the impossible...praying there is a possible solution.
farron May 2015
it's enough, because it has to be.
the brush of your chest in us crossing paths.
the rhythm of your voice as it fills the room with every story you tell and every joke you crack.

and i can't falter this time.
enough is enough.
that's the key word here, isn't it?


enough of me feeding off every glance we catch each other in.
enough of me trying to fill the gory space in my chest with the days you had me believe i could be sane.

that's not who we are.
so stripped of sentimental views, seeing the world for it's rationality.
never it's emotion.

and my god, did i want to know what it was like.
to continue on into each day with another being who couldn't wait until i woke up.
who waited for me until i did.
and you peeled the armor from my skin, touched each scar and made a map.
"you are so strong, and i have never been under the hand of someone like you."

you believed in luck then.
even if it was short lived.

and maybe, just maybe,
before you left me in the claws of the shadows that were starved of my suffering you had pulled me from,

i believed, too.
farron Apr 2015
the flame burns before us,
and you sit behind me.
not at my side,
not in front of me.
and in this you are like my guardian again,
although i've never needed anyone to protect me.
because that's my job.
i am my own shield.
but here you are.

you're voice above me,
body behind me.
and it's not intimate.
you barely notice the way my rib cage shakes,
the thunder in my veins every time your words resound.
and inside, there is a war.

because how could i ask you to walk
into the depths of this sea,
into this storm,
with this youth in your bones,
and the steel in mine?

sleep now, let's sleep.
and if only you were next to me again.
if only.
Asher close Aug 2014
the last string of words I would ever hear from you

a solemn sunday night
4 am
tears threatened
papers slipped from my lap

i think it was raining
maybe it was me
a shallow tapping lulled
emotions continued
then silence

everything was numb
my body
my thoughts
my being

the clock ran backwards
times changed
stories rewritten
to you it was nothing
to me it was everything
why did i ever listen to you
Martin Narrod Jun 2014
Most peculiarly of most things was that I thought all of this very fishy, daudry, drab, and boresome. This is where I turn on the second table lamp...

In a muster I arrived to the home of my aunt, where at once she drew me into the back of the house, down a flight of stairs made of tusk and bone into a catacomb where she kept a alive collection of wooly mammoths. She said the upkeep wasn't awfully horrendous as she had an invisible backdrop which led to a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe sort of thing. I stood in the gangway behind 10 foot high thigh bones waiting for one of the monstrous red beasts to come greet me, but what arrived was a very large elephant with longer tusks than usual. None of the red sillyness which I had dreamt of seeing in my previous years.

She could see I was not that impressed, and so I was led to another part of her home. Around the corner walked in my uncle in is superb and luxurious dress, reminiscent of 18th century British military fatigues. He said, "I bought the E.T. ride from Universal Studios, but as bringing the whole ride to my home I had them adapt a more suitable version to fit the property. A hangar opened and inside there were four chariots of orange and blue, diamond shaped school buses with their undersides aimed at withholding a V-shaped street. Then in two and two single file order all the classmates of my K-12 years arrived and took seat into the strappings of this 'ride' we were to take. Music played, John Williams even was produced by hologram, and after the ups and downs for several minutes we arrived to what I thought would inevitably be the forest, but rather was what I perceived was a Finnish town. The chariot I was in was stuck in the street, mud, rain, and soot entrenched us. I unbuckled the polyester straps and when I stood I realized that though the seats had built in urinals and toilets they were utterly noiseome to the senses. I followed a local girl to a food mart where I asked how I could find where I was but no one spoke a drop of English.

I corraled the group and told them to wait for me. I followed this girl who seemed quite younger than I to a small apartment in the uppermost floor of a very unsturdy chapel-like home several suburban blocks from our ride. She immediately removed her pants and I saw with my very own eyes that she was hairless and nubile. She insisted that we have a ****, and after I caressed her and complained too that she was far too young, she insisted that the age of consent in Germany was actually 13 yet she was 16. I remember it clearly. The most gigantuous feelings of pleasure as I mended a studio closet for my dining room furniture inside her ripening channel. Eventually after an hour we finished, she offered me a towel and some biscuits, which I consumed joyously.

Upon leaving her home I remembered that she had said we were in Germany, and so I produced a measure of Deutsch that I had been saving in my repetoir for the right moment. As Finnish is not my strongest language I was pleased of this and became instantly popular among the other candidates of our journey. This  E.T. ride is far different than  I remember it having been. Moments later I awoke quickly, a tuft of her black hair on my eiderdown comforter and a veil of tears from the merriment of glee shrouded over my face. After I rolled and balled into the soft feathers of my bedding, I twisted myself again into a knot, and allowed myself to rejoin the soporific treatice I was aiming for.

This is now where I turn off both lamps and go on watching films of a similar style.

Wishing You The Very Best,

Sir Martin Narrod

I keep my family of conscience
I shred my folly of heir
In case of torment or fondness
I never wear underwear.

— The End —