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I want to be moved
Day to day
To revel
To  weep
Even in strangers conceit

But why can’t the thing that moves me just be my own two feet?
Emma jean Dec 2018
Our youth is ending,
   ****** beer and snickers bars swapped        for cheap ***** and cold laughs
                Drip drip, the bottle spills
           Drip drip our limbs spread out
    A harmony held high over our heads
We swim down stream
   Our stomachs to the sky
    All scales and notes and melodies
A song composed in an series of summers
  A song sung through the rocks, our finger     tips glow
        Stinging,
                 slipping,
                      stuttering
A stutter, a song stuck in motion
    An unspoken emotion, stays behind
All I want is to be back at the creek, with you, loving me
Svode Oct 2017
The simpler life becomes,
the worse it seems to be.
As things turn to basic,
for both you and me.

Take my hand,
elevate me far away.
Bring me to the place,
where there is no dismay.

Where the birds sing freely,
where the skies never turn grey;
where we can both live happily,
and our souls will never fray.
Just Caleigh May 2015
It's strange how
there are pros in golf, medicine, and even body language,
but no one will admit that they are pros at
tracing the lines on their thighs from old scars
or knowing their hands’ feelings when they see an ex’s face
or dodging people’s inquiries about their wellbeing.
There are unrecognised experts
in all fields of sorrows and pains in our human experiences.
Shame that those most familiar with the least explored topics
tend to give up or give out
while those least familiar attempt to drown the veterans’ cries with
I know how you feel
You’re not alone
It’s okay
I understand

And we who know best
smile and nod, thinking forward to when we will be home alone
thinking backward to
all that was
all that is
and when it was simpler
and before this.

— The End —