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Sid Oct 2017
Jagged red lines where chemistry turned from paper scribbles to unplugged electricity
and the only marks I cared to count
splayed across your skin
rendered me useless.
This isn't geography;
people aren't maps
so
stop
searching
for permanence in temporary markers-
they call it pit stops for a reason
though
I keep finding people that can
conveniently
mend
flat souls.
// what they don't tell you in school //
profane is the word you seek
when it comes to
looking up
this vicious word
called
love...

for how can one live
in deeper lies
than the imaginary
of permanent belonging?

for what is eternity
but a mortal's illusion,
and what is love,
but the sum of all of mankind's fears
and insecurities?
Cugetari naïve - partea a V-a: Cateva atribute incalcite ale iubirii

Profan este cuvantul cautat
cand vine vorba
despre intelegerea
acestui crud cuvant
numit
iubire...

intrucat *** ar putea sa se traiasca
altfel decat in adancile minciuni
imaginare
ale apartenentei permanente?

caci ce este eternitatea
altceva decat iluzie,
si ce este iubirea
altceva decat suma temerilor
si nesigurantei umane?
saranade Sep 2017
Preoccupation with making something permanent
A feeling of expectation
incorporation of a certain situation
or habitation into life, for good
It makes me freak out.
Desire,
for a certain thing to happen
fear of that something actually happening
Or that it's something that might be permanent.
Worry,
the attempt to find certainty
the desire to control things.
Control you, controlling me
I'm afraid you'll find my black
It will come back again.
It's like an arc weld done incorrectly
Eventually it will start to bleed
And fall apart.
But I dreamt about welding and you welding me
into something permanent
something desirable
something non-penetrable.
You had me molded against the truck and...
I don't know who you are, but you put your fire in me
So deeply it burns.
A fire that firefighters can't dissolve
Doctors can't resolve.
You're in me,
and I love you.
I had a dream, or was it reality.
Alex Riley Feb 2017
You wrote in my heart with a pen
A pen full of permanent ink
And now that mark can never be erased
Because you wrote with permanent ink
No matter how hard I scrape away the image
It never goes away
Because you wrote with permanent ink
Dignity dismantled
Identity dismembered
Presence dismissed
Feelings disregarded
Rights disrespected
Abilities disvalued
Friends disappear
Ideas displaced
Always disappointed
Humbled and disgraced
Heart discouraged
Constantly disgruntled
Hills to climb, valleys to cross
Trusting in time, it will be clear
my life is not a total loss.
Trinity Jones Jan 2017
It started with my heart
You turned it stone
Then it began to pump lead through my veins
Causing my body to weigh more than I could carry
I couldn't find comfort
It was all so rock solid
Sealed shut
Permanent
When the apocalypse happens
the aliens and Archeologists
will at least have our art.
I'm not kidding. Let's talk about dates I wanna make this a movement.
Keely Jan 2017
I gave you hickeys
And you gave me a tattoo
But the mark you made on me was permanent
Unlike all the ones I made on you
Michelle Garcia Sep 2016
The first time you mentioned forever,
I attempted to measure it.

Just how far can heartstrings stretch
when tugged by the blur of passing seasons,
extended arms, and miles of uncharted tomorrows?

No matter how many times I have watched
hands embrace the seconds of fleeting time
I still wonder if a moment exists                                                                                              
when they will finally tire of spinning, trying to find
salvation in the rotation of infinity

if it even exists.

Forever
making pit stops at sixteen at seventeen
in yesterdays expired and the blood red rush
of exhausted mistake.
Forever
smoke seeping through door cracks,
fires of promise, of passion, of fading
Forever
we will love
Forever
until our names run dry of meaning.

Just how many heartbeats does it take
to shelter an angel,
how many words exchanged does it take
to ****** the demons that wish to place
years and age and affliction
between the two who have painted
a thousand forevers between hands
held so tightly that minds forget how to change?

I am still trying to measure even now,
as we glide toward moments whose horizons
we will always be searching for.
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