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#consolidation
Some days are for consolidation some days are for transformation You cannot hide your vestigial tail your belly is *** your jelly is hot stumped cut off salamander trail I am the secretary of my sensations my magic is my weakness you must invite me across your threshold It's pretty uh ******** only four miles from your house say it's semi mediaeval, but great stuff for the launch pad, and something about the bleakness, the overbearing concrete structures Some of the evenings may require consolation some of those nights end in devastation Lies are exotic, and the truth the truth is pretty basic
0
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
Pie Crusts
# Compartmentalized; ..An elevated view  of you shows booth, after booth, *after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth,* .. after booth, after booth    Each one  partitioned  with an impenetrable  curtain hanging off of  a bone-frame stainless steel  pipe structure, Built high enough  for the different parts  of you to sense, but not   feel.. what part of you is in the other booth.    Problem is, You want and expect me to orbit around it all as if each isolated part    is,  in itself.. actually the whole you.. when I know it is  only a  tremendously-lonely     part of the whole. And you take love  to be some form of blindness   on my part --to the elephant in the room, And I tell you I love you.. And I tell you,                  "No.. I won't do it" --And your shame  kicks in causing you to  feel      I'm too harsh..         or being judgemental. Yet all along, you are knowing-- That just a few moments  with me.. and the walls come tumbling down.    .          .          .          .         .          .           When the partitions  drop *(that is your terror) (that is your horror)* You will not annihilate into a million fragments      of nothingness The you(s)..  of you will meet one another for the very first time since you were first  dismembered (fragmented, so very long ago.) You will not  disintegrate, love.. You will  Re- integrate. Love does that.  It does. But you already know that. Yet still you hide (.. from me.) You are addicted  to the 'comfort' the partitions's isolation brings. Your relationship is not with the sum of the parts  as a whole.. but with the internal  "construct"  within you--   the chasm..  the gap..   --the empty space between those parts; as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you and re-installs the next And you have no idea   how to    orchestrate the many different parts  of you    like a conductor would do    with his orchestra..   therefore, You can only be in relationship with one part of yourself at a time-- ..Each partitioned  'self' has an e-mail address Each one  has a separate account  of its own.. Each one,  within itself..   convinced that it carries within itself its own, separate genetic imprint Each one,  you can  milk   within its incompleteness      as if it in itself,   is complete--     .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;       as though it is the complete you   while all other necessary  parts of the whole   remain dangerously dormant..    --being Unholy-ghosted  by     whatever currently-visible part of you     now  has control of the ship. --And throughout the years I am expected to weather the storm and gather  pieces,  from pieces.. and then magically (oh.. I can..) piece them all together as I speak to you without you having to even  feel the tension (absurdity)  of the mis-placed  accountability    (and responsibility)     to enter into love     as a Whole (the sum of many parts) And so here I am..  orbiting         orbiting  orbiting-- around your ever-changing  mood swings;         the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day         and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,        *(those ever-changing perspectives,        gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)*    --in order that you might  remain   'the same'    based on whatever current-visible  part of you    is currently at the helm..        The current pilot of the ship        wholly unaware of the leadership styles,        opinions and views of that  of the last.   Harsh sounding.. I know.. (but you know..) And so, here's the rub-- You are feeling your days to be numbered.. You have been around me too long, love. (that is your fault)   You knew. https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/ I wrote that  such a long time ago We are getting closer to Home, love. I wrote this strange little ditty before I wrote that other one.. https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/ What you have feared  most has now given way to the sound of inevitability    *(You should have ran              ..but you didn't.)* ..The sound of inevitability  isn't really a sound at all.. ***..It is the  sound of you  still   standing there.***❤ #
0
Jul 3, 2023
Jul 3, 2023 at 11:00 PM UTC
what ((Love)) sounds like..
# Compartmentalized; ..An elevated view  of you shows booth, after booth, *after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth, after booth,* .. after booth, after booth    Each one  partitioned  with an impenetrable  curtain hanging off of  a bone-frame stainless steel  pipe structure, Built high enough  for the different parts  of you to sense, but not   feel.. what part of you is in the other booth.    Problem is, You want and expect me to orbit around it all as if each isolated part    is,  in itself.. actually the whole you.. when I know it is  only a  tremendously-lonely     part of the whole. And you take love  to be some form of blindness   on my part --to the elephant in the room, And I tell you I love you.. And I tell you,                  "No.. I won't do it" --And your shame  kicks in causing you to  feel      I'm too harsh..         or being judgemental. Yet all along, you are knowing-- That just a few moments  with me.. and the walls come tumbling down.    .          .          .          .         .          .           When the partitions  drop *(that is your terror) (that is your horror)* You will not annihilate into a million fragments      of nothingness The you(s)..  of you will meet one another for the very first time since you were first  dismembered (fragmented, so very long ago.) You will not  disintegrate, love.. You will  Re- integrate. Love does that.  It does. But you already know that. Yet still you hide (.. from me.) You are addicted  to the 'comfort' the partitions's isolation brings. Your relationship is not with the sum of the parts  as a whole.. but with the internal  "construct"  within you--   the chasm..  the gap..   --the empty space between those parts; as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you and re-installs the next And you have no idea   how to    orchestrate the many different parts  of you    like a conductor would do    with his orchestra..   therefore, You can only be in relationship with one part of yourself at a time-- ..Each partitioned  'self' has an e-mail address Each one  has a separate account  of its own.. Each one,  within itself..   convinced that it carries within itself its own, separate genetic imprint Each one,  you can  milk   within its incompleteness      as if it in itself,   is complete--     .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;       as though it is the complete you   while all other necessary  parts of the whole   remain dangerously dormant..    --being Unholy-ghosted  by     whatever currently-visible part of you     now  has control of the ship. --And throughout the years I am expected to weather the storm and gather  pieces,  from pieces.. and then magically (oh.. I can..) piece them all together as I speak to you without you having to even  feel the tension (absurdity)  of the mis-placed  accountability    (and responsibility)     to enter into love     as a Whole (the sum of many parts) And so here I am..  orbiting         orbiting  orbiting-- around your ever-changing  mood swings;         the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day         and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,        *(those ever-changing perspectives,        gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)*    --in order that you might  remain   'the same'    based on whatever current-visible  part of you    is currently at the helm..        The current pilot of the ship        wholly unaware of the leadership styles,        opinions and views of that  of the last.   Harsh sounding.. I know.. (but you know..) And so, here's the rub-- You are feeling your days to be numbered.. You have been around me too long, love. (that is your fault)   You knew. https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/ I wrote that  such a long time ago We are getting closer to Home, love. I wrote this strange little ditty before I wrote that other one.. https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/ What you have feared  most has now given way to the sound of inevitability    *(You should have ran              ..but you didn't.)* ..The sound of inevitability  isn't really a sound at all.. ***..It is the  sound of you  still   standing there.***❤ #
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141
"I mean we were destined to fail, I've read every card in the deck, scry'd every crystal in the store. Looked for meanings in the Stars, the tea, the cracks in the pavement. Fishbones, wishbones, my palms and the swirls at the back of my eyelids. Can't you see?" "I see. The magpies came in two's." "Exactly, there's happiness somewhere." "Just not here." "Yes. Just not here."
0
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Hidden meaning