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#driveway
I suppose it doesn't feel so bad after all this is exactly what I always expect a pattern repeated, regardless of the reason it's almost a relief, almost comfort in the known, the expected not a new home just a road trip stop pulling into a familiar driveway even if all the lights are off
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Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 7:47 PM UTC
pulling into the driveway
The driveway of my house has potholes and washed up chalk residue. Markings from bike tires and cars that come and go. I try and try to get to the car by the curb that’s been parked there since I was born, But the driveway seems to get longer and longer, and longer. My house sits at the back end of this driveway. With traps that visitors can’t seem to find, And yelling matches that can’t be heard through it’s impervious walls. And so I run and run and run, never reaching the end of this dumb driveway. If you ask the people who have or haven't reached their car, They all have different opinions. It all depends on the person-- no… the past. Who’s been seen, who’s been heard, who’s been loved, and who’s been misunderstood. We may be wrong, or we may be right But we don’t care Because all we want to do is reach the gosh **** car at the end of this Rotten driveway That feels longer every time we trip, fall, or bend to re-tie our porous shoes I don’t yet understand that these falls and knots that I make now will help me to learn to drive, So when I reach that car on this idiotic driveway’s curb I’ll be able to grasp the steering wheel And drive, away of course. When I back out of this rundown, beat-up, defeated driveway I’ll think of the path it took me on. Maybe all the scratches and bruises I’ll have by the end of this pavement Will tell me different tales from the perspective of the rocks and cement. Life seems rough looking back at the torn up house from this ever-stretching driveway, Because no one remembers the good, the colorful chalk pictures and the shiny new bikes And maybe we won’t ever remember unless it’s all behind us and we reach that car on the curb of this gosh **** ever-stretching, rundown, beat-up, defeated, dumb, idiotic, Rotten, long, long, long driveway, But i will always call it home.
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
Driveway
The driveway of my house has potholes and washed up chalk residue. Markings from bike tires and cars that come and go. I try and try to get to the car by the curb that’s been parked there since I was born, But the driveway seems to get longer and longer, and longer. My house sits at the back end of this driveway. With traps that visitors can’t seem to find, And yelling matches that can’t be heard through it’s impervious walls. And so I run and run and run, never reaching the end of this dumb driveway. If you ask the people who have or haven't reached their car, They all have different opinions. It all depends on the person-- no… the past. Who’s been seen, who’s been heard, who’s been loved, and who’s been misunderstood. We may be wrong, or we may be right But we don’t care Because all we want to do is reach the gosh **** car at the end of this Rotten driveway That feels longer every time we trip, fall, or bend to re-tie our porous shoes I don’t yet understand that these falls and knots that I make now will help me to learn to drive, So when I reach that car on this idiotic driveway’s curb I’ll be able to grasp the steering wheel And drive, away of course. When I back out of this rundown, beat-up, defeated driveway I’ll think of the path it took me on. Maybe all the scratches and bruises I’ll have by the end of this pavement Will tell me different tales from the perspective of the rocks and cement. Life seems rough looking back at the torn up house from this ever-stretching driveway, Because no one remembers the good, the colorful chalk pictures and the shiny new bikes And maybe we won’t ever remember unless it’s all behind us and we reach that car on the curb of this gosh **** ever-stretching, rundown, beat-up, defeated, dumb, idiotic, Rotten, long, long, long driveway, But i will always call it home.
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I am bleeding broken teeth Out on the driveway My BMX buckled beside me And the whole world in front of me I am typing up scripts To sell consumer goods My empty lunch tin beside me And a deadline in front of me I am watching the curtain breath Through the balcony door My dog sits beside me And the weekend in front of me I am memory pushed through a straw Into the shape of a man My dreams beside me As with the whole world around me
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May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
Driveway
Lately, I don't know how to make things sound like poetry And I know I promised I'd stop writing about you But I can't. And it's stupid how I wait for 4 am driveway lights So I can turn over and sleep because I know you are home But insomnia is now my bestest friend And I ******* miss you. I use my voice for the first time in months Ready to learn how to love you But your driveway lights are now her's happiness. I hope her's 'I love you's don't start to sound much more like my 'I'm sorry's. Funny how we both settled for half the love.
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Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC
Driveway lights
Do not trust boys who kiss you in your drive way. If they can't make it to the front door there must be something wrong. I have had many first kisses in my driveway and every boy that has given me one has turned out sour. Do not trust boys who kiss you in your drive way. If they are too lazy to walk the extra ten feet to your front door then they are most likely too lazy to walk the extra mile in a relationship. Effort is key my friend. I cannot bare to stand in my driveway. Memories come flooding in from this boy and that. Do not trust boys that kiss you in your driveway. Trust me on that.
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Do Not Trust Boys
somedays, Love is like an empty driveway. sometimes Love is a grizzly; when it wakes, it growls at you. sometimes, Love is a full moon. Love dances with You and forgets its claws and gnashing teeth. sometimes, Love doesn't know that its bites aren't supposed to hurt. but sometimes You don't either, so you forgive. sometimes Love is a cat that scratches and comes back purring. You don't fault it for being that way. Love is not easy to understand, but at least You are always willing to try.
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Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
your crab-heart is a grizzly bear
when I’m driving down the interstate I always have the same debate I feel like I’m stuck in a **** crate I would like to go. drive down to Denver Colorado. I would like to see the west coast beach when I’m driving down these side roads I only see these toads I would like to feel that west coast real I would like to walk, have a nice talk. I would like to be with those that are free. I’m parked in a driveway and it’s only one way. it’s definitely not - it’s definitely not what i thought.
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May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
interstate