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Map
Health reflects plateaus,
Thick tears running like rivers,
Arthritic mountains,
Wrinkles ripple at beaches,
Plains welcome the exhausted,

Suburbs look peaceful,
Rural childhood decomposed,
Urban amnesia,
Roads outline the senile brain,
Destination: nostalgia.
thegirlwhowrites Oct 2014
the world tilted
and i find
that i am exactly
at the opposite end
of where i was yesterday.

there was silence
between us
and spaces
and gaps
and infinities
yet to be realized.

now,
i am here somersaulting
with the sound
of your voice
as i drift off to sleep,
and again waking up
to the sweet sound
of promises unspoken.

when yesterday
i cannot find
where my spot is
in the map
of your heart,
here i am
at the x
marking exactly
where your whole being
is held together.

you have brought me
to various peaks and depths
of euphoria and melancholy,
and i am sure
i can only be called crazy
for wanting to be where i am.

when you come home,
remember:
x marks this spot, baby.
i am here,
exactly where i
have chosen to be.

for j.e.
*102514
xoK Sep 2014
X
i do not wear my heart on my sleeve.
instead, i keep it locked up in a glass box
buried deep within me
X marks the spot
cross my heart
and hope to fly
stick a moonbeam in my eye
they say what doesn't **** you makes you stronger
and i think i believe that's true
but sometimes
there are moments
when it's just too much
too hard to resist the urge
to curl up from the outside-in
like a snail shell
a home within.

but eventually
my beautiful muse,
dress flowing in the wind,
comes to whisper in my ears
sweet echoes through my shell space
she whispers of a treasure map
drawn across her back-canvas by chilled fingertips
that only she can decode
(with my help)
X marks the spot
cross my heart
and hope to fly
eyes are for seeing
but when they're closed
they are for feeling
my muse, my muse
how do you do it?
shoot me straight up into space
so that i land
X marks the spot
in a little glass box
warm between your lined palms.
LDR life.
Wrote this a while ago but never posted
Ady Sep 2014
Once in a while you'd call me regret,
wonder out the door and lose your way outside.
But I'd wait by the window,
all morning and each unbearable night of limbo.
And when dawn broke through the window and
the light illuminated the trail on your skin;
you would appear on the doorstep ashamed and keen
on me.
I think it's now routine but I don't mind the times because
I've mapped love marks on the atlas of your skin knowing
you'll want to come back once you've seen the x marks the spot.
This one makes me laugh so much
20something Sep 2014
You are unfamiliar territory,
and for the first time in my life,
I am traveling without a map.
I'm following a path I can only imagine in this darkness,
and the walls surrounding me
are made up of pure uncertainty.
I don't remember how I arrived here,
but I know I can't go back now.
There are so many wrong turns I've already made
and sometimes I find myself walking in circles
but don't give up on me yet;
I swear I'm on my way.
Candy Noire Aug 2014
My trail of thought left with the train in the distance
Do not disturb my blissful ignorance
Because it's a long way to jump from here
Adrenaline rushing through a tunnel of thoughts
As tangled as a tube map
I stand at the crossroads of my life
Mindlessly dodging traffic.
ekaj revae Aug 2014
speak easies and sunsets
the rip roaring tide
of each season
plucked from
a particular
map of heart
a wilted plant
brought to
fruition
through
journies posted
reconciled and branded
out of their
terrain of gloom
with terrain too soon
the hardy way
of blues
‘infidel rider
of the box car
whiskey sunrise
alarm clock for BBC
snowy icy white lot
sky feasting
on schizoids
orchestrating
the busses
the pistols
silenced
and silent
the train
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