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You can control
The quality of your time
With your mood
Nothing has to truly ****
If you can open your mind
See past the 3D
And enter the present groove.
Time is fickle
Moments we shared become more fleeting
The image of your smile in my head starts to lose its sharpness
The lessons though?
The love we shared?
Those will last me a lifetime
I just wish your lifetime wasn’t so short
basil 3d
hitting save on another task as my spotify playlist sways in the background. my yawn reaches my stomach. my dark circles bring a great contrast to my greyish-bluish eyes. i'm learning french again. maybe because it's supposed to be the language of love and maybe because i want to watch Plein Soleil without subtitles.

it's june still. my ex who said she was still my friend went to a pride parade without me. it's fine, maybe i'll get to wear my colors on my sleeves next june. maybe i'll meet some queers in college. if i ever finish my housing application.

california state university northridge. blissfully away from home, but achingly not far enough. beautiful to it's core and yet i can't shake this churning anxiety in my fingers, in my brain, in my heart. i wish everything wasn't online so maybe this yellow brick road winding me to my future would feel more real.

this town is so ugly. it's not big, not small. it isn't even pretty if you genuinely enjoy the look of washed out suburbs. all the colors are dulled by the sun, and not in the soft pastel way. it's like the skies rained gallons of bleach, if it ever once rained here. this place is full of skeletons hanging on to purgatory.

but i'd suffer damnation if i said i wasn't scared out of my mind about leaving it.
god. just rambling. ***** time.

When youth was moth, love flowed over us in prismatic waves—systems of romance.

Then came the phoenix of your heart, and everything was a ceiling. I moved clockwise past infinite shadow and onto your wall.

Sorry to wake you. [...] I forgot to tell you something. [...] I'm like the sun or perhaps the moon. And there are times when I know I'll make you sad.

Distant polyglot in its timbres, its psychological profile, and its pulse, it could not sound less like a soundtrack for a search. More like a Middle Eastern funeral.

Stemmed from a shared anxiety over self-definition in an indefinite world, and each of them has searched for answers in the amorphous space between where “you” end and “I” begin.

By turns, august and sweet—revealed a complex stillness, a set of detached passions attempting to rebuild themselves, a desensitized state searching for soul.

I have loved you into oblivion and now move into thin air. Please remember me as a time of day. As long as you can hold your breath, we'll always be together.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 15
I wonder how old your smile,

how far your hemisphere:

fringes of your admired shape,
traces of your desired smell.

Might they reveal what clouds know.

Perhaps measure a held glance,
the flowers in your hair.

Perhaps discover
a here without a where.
Crow Jun 15
time steals up soft in autumn’s haze
through fallen leaves and frosted morn
no longer smiles through summer days
bears dreadful gaze of mercy shorn

scribes lines upon youth’s winsome face
and brings the ache of stiffened joint
gives halting stride and slower pace
age piled like leaves does thus anoint

yet in thine eye dwells springtide’s bloom
in ardor’s dance is lightened tread
warm voice dispels autumnal gloom
at gentle touch are decades fled

for love knows naught of count of days
let the years flow as they will
unclouded passion’s flames yet blaze
I shall be thy lover still
f Jun 13
had these gods ever felt the way your lips draw on mine—temples would arise to worship you instead.
cigarettes after *** . sunsetz
Steve Jun 12
Time is for tides
And boating lake rides
It’s for boiling your eggs
And the swimming pool regs.
Time is spent in detention
Or paying attention
Or sitting a test
Or having a rest
Time is for departing
Not for outsmarting
A pie shaped chart
With nothing to impart
A dish served cold
That chimes when your old
It scrawls lines on your face
And flutters the flag
At the end of the race
But the best of time
Is when it’s all mine
No pressure on the day
No programme to display
No seconds tick away
No words left to say
A smile paints my face
The sun warms my skin
My mind’s lost in space
My heart’s deep within
A Disney ride
With three kids in my care
Bristling with pride
The wind in my hair
And come the time
When I’m
Just a thought
Caught in your throat
That’s how to think of me
Because that’s where I’ll be.

If I still had hair.
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