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#elephants
I lay on the floor, feeling the chore Of living creeping up through a poisonous door That leads to a future that’s already gone. Whatever have I done with my life, Except letting the dope flow down my dome? Foam crawls from my mouth as the door rolls down, Pink elephants are drumming, parading wide open. Stars are shining as they are crying. And the clock is ticking deeply down my aching mind. The whole world spins, foam gushing out, the stars are begging and the clock is killing. Shades of pink like cotton candy swirling about. I pry open my veins, blue liquid drops Mixing with cotton candy as the drumming fades. Why do I twist and turn my veins inside out, Trying to fit them into the right place?
0
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 12:02 PM UTC
Veins
~for maddie~ the inference need not be discerned, plain clear like a perfected blue sky that took a millennium to craft so well that you take it 100% for granted even God needs trial and error to get it right, and more to create a perfect anything and any body and any elephant
0
Jun 15, 2024
Jun 15, 2024 at 9:58 AM UTC
elephants spring to mind
Where will we be when the last elephant falls I'll still be in the room You'll be down the hall Let's keep pretending life's never ending when it's really the extinction of us all
0
Sep 30, 2021
Sep 30, 2021 at 7:30 PM UTC
The last elephant
Gloom rolled into town like a caravan circus vintage and ragged rusty and golden the metal tent reflected a land before time maybe from the old movies when the elephants wore hats still, and the women danced long legged, **** and sweating as their toes kicked up leaving little to mystery. The gloom has its trapeze highs and it’s netted lows, a feeling of falling through time, through space, being caught right before the big SPLAT. The net between the gloom and the bright lights catches me like a spiders web, totally and completely but not enough to feel less lonely. There is a tight rope of thought instead of a train, in my brain, i am constantly balancing, a crowd of roaring people, spitting people, animals howling in the gloom at me, laughing at me throwing peanuts at me as i try to balance on the rope.
0
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
The Gloom Circus
I sometimes am afraid To go outside Because there is a high chance Of being trampled by elephants They roam the streets Seemingly peaceful to the untrained eye But these elephants can turn on a dime And crush you underfoot The only way to be safe around them Is to wear an elephant mask And crush the mask-less with them Filling you with guilt I sometimes am afraid To go outside Because there is a high chance Of being trampled by elephants
0
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
Trampled By Elephants
An elephant remebered running wild in savanna. The rays of the sun shining down warming the ground beneath him, He bathed in the light, as he trunked with the other elephants around his elder's legs, He remebered the large disk of light as it descended behind the earth and the sky became hues of color, He remembered as he lay down in the nights, drawing warmth from his elders, He remebered this as the lion, with jagged teeth, ripped his guts. The lion, having had his fill, looked up at the elephant and there as darkness settled in his eyes, like curtains closing in the finale, an elephant ran wild in savanna.
0
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 8:54 PM UTC
The Elephant of the Savanna
We are not on a schedule But we are working Ivory skills of mastery hard We can not afford to lose The Elephants hearts diary The Zen of topiary       Details   The good luck The hard worker making True buck the husk of fruit seed The Peking God of duck Superman of gifts of steel The movie superstitious eyes Everyday good earth cries Elephant Trunk Bring on the Holiday The tuxedo the Elephant Tusk Godly task the top rank Anomalous Questioning the situation not so delicious Sensual so moving vivacious The comedy of errors Ridiculous to the sublime The compromising position Waiting for the next       "Crime" Mens of romance Holiday the gracious gray Taking risks *Gallivanting never separating love Of the tusk, life holds too many risks** Smiles and baking more loving The harder you mix     Wonderful Ivory    An elephant is a true    ingredient Holding the whisk over creamed Looking high up the white feathers Like a beauty, I have never seen She loves to pick his holiday Elephants circles the tie he's her dream There is no truth when its a holiday when people Laugh between there lies Start running toward Elephant Tusk Moms homemade apple caramel pecan pies Conflicts subjects to paint talk to the "Elephants" With the dreamy ivory tusk The fragrance of Ireland Spicy Greens musk King hand card player tough skin *Holiday Queen got numbered in The men million stars of musk saved the day it flew in You make me feel brand new I never made a mistake Never one that I couldn't explain Running towards or afterward Those love words Before the Gods The veal chops Emperor of emails The Cops and robbers So modest and shy with demure   Holiday spirit world of hands galore What allure dreamy contentment She got holiday advancement The contrast between Holiday family love the honesty but our government magical mystery all bribery Go for the tour just pour your words Quite a mystery white baking flour messy Moon and the Star handkerchief style dressy The Astronomy we need to build a better Here and the now Wondering how? Deep brown hazelnut coffee royal bow Seeing through the Gray starting to pray The parade of the Elephant The day we can trust This isn't a Fay Ray not my kind of town The holiday comes and goes too quick There you are Rick and his cousins It felt like a holiday of *Tombstones The gathering with the finest rhinestones** More sound of silence Please no I phones Shut them off enjoy the Elephants tusk and their home turf Not the bluest sea Make it the lovely (Earl Gray) Bringing surf and turf More conflicts those predictions More spiritual afflictions Just find your peace within His Elephant pants win You got the whole tusk in your hand "Snow White Huntsman" Affection like a housewarming My holiday transformation Neon Lion light of crystal ball The spiritual Tree elephant Touched a part of me the art All the fine elements bring us closer, not the copy of an imposter Something to smile about The myriad The full length of the camera The Elephants has a heart no drama Flying so Ivory gown sheer Moms roast will not come next year Red devil computer Telling me there are Ghostbusters and travel gliders I am the true Elephant lover More homestayers music players Men looking astronomically Feeling silly in their whiskers The world is horrifying But there is no denying more praying Her heart is very thick Elephant skin close to her heart is luck What is happening to our economy The sad thing people are selling Elephant's Tusk for money we need to stop this Lucky Elephant tusk is turning to good luck We pray for the world Holy bless**
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
Holiday Elephant Tusk
We are not on a schedule But we are working Ivory skills of mastery hard We can not afford to lose The Elephants hearts diary The Zen of topiary       Details   The good luck The hard worker making True buck the husk of fruit seed The Peking God of duck Superman of gifts of steel The movie superstitious eyes Everyday good earth cries Elephant Trunk Bring on the Holiday The tuxedo the Elephant Tusk Godly task the top rank Anomalous Questioning the situation not so delicious Sensual so moving vivacious The comedy of errors Ridiculous to the sublime The compromising position Waiting for the next       "Crime" Mens of romance Holiday the gracious gray Taking risks *Gallivanting never separating love Of the tusk, life holds too many risks** Smiles and baking more loving The harder you mix     Wonderful Ivory    An elephant is a true    ingredient Holding the whisk over creamed Looking high up the white feathers Like a beauty, I have never seen She loves to pick his holiday Elephants circles the tie he's her dream There is no truth when its a holiday when people Laugh between there lies Start running toward Elephant Tusk Moms homemade apple caramel pecan pies Conflicts subjects to paint talk to the "Elephants" With the dreamy ivory tusk The fragrance of Ireland Spicy Greens musk King hand card player tough skin *Holiday Queen got numbered in The men million stars of musk saved the day it flew in You make me feel brand new I never made a mistake Never one that I couldn't explain Running towards or afterward Those love words Before the Gods The veal chops Emperor of emails The Cops and robbers So modest and shy with demure   Holiday spirit world of hands galore What allure dreamy contentment She got holiday advancement The contrast between Holiday family love the honesty but our government magical mystery all bribery Go for the tour just pour your words Quite a mystery white baking flour messy Moon and the Star handkerchief style dressy The Astronomy we need to build a better Here and the now Wondering how? Deep brown hazelnut coffee royal bow Seeing through the Gray starting to pray The parade of the Elephant The day we can trust This isn't a Fay Ray not my kind of town The holiday comes and goes too quick There you are Rick and his cousins It felt like a holiday of *Tombstones The gathering with the finest rhinestones** More sound of silence Please no I phones Shut them off enjoy the Elephants tusk and their home turf Not the bluest sea Make it the lovely (Earl Gray) Bringing surf and turf More conflicts those predictions More spiritual afflictions Just find your peace within His Elephant pants win You got the whole tusk in your hand "Snow White Huntsman" Affection like a housewarming My holiday transformation Neon Lion light of crystal ball The spiritual Tree elephant Touched a part of me the art All the fine elements bring us closer, not the copy of an imposter Something to smile about The myriad The full length of the camera The Elephants has a heart no drama Flying so Ivory gown sheer Moms roast will not come next year Red devil computer Telling me there are Ghostbusters and travel gliders I am the true Elephant lover More homestayers music players Men looking astronomically Feeling silly in their whiskers The world is horrifying But there is no denying more praying Her heart is very thick Elephant skin close to her heart is luck What is happening to our economy The sad thing people are selling Elephant's Tusk for money we need to stop this Lucky Elephant tusk is turning to good luck We pray for the world Holy bless**
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165
Decked up elephants, Sea of hands mark time for drums, Splendour well defined!
0
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
Festive frenzy
A mother's love is forever enduring Standing brave through adversity Even when baby takes a fall A mother does what a mother does Stay with baby that's her call He's her baby afterall
0
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
Elephants
just because we love you don't mean we don't want to **** you we love you more than that she is my word girlfriend she just don't want to admit it her real boyfriend is still trying on her pink love we know this just because we love you ? ... .. .
0
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 4:17 PM UTC
Untitled
THE BIG GAME HUNTS ARE STILL ON THEY COME TO THE UNITED STATES HOW CAN WE STILL **** THESE MAJESTIC CREATURES AT AN ALARMING RATE LIONS ELEPHANTS AND THE RHINO ARE HUNTED TO THE END OF LIFE DON'T BRING THE TROPHIES INTO AMERICA PRESIDENT TRUMP SAYS YOUR IN STRIFE WEALTHY AMERICAN GAME HUNTERS STILL CRAVE FOR THE **** HOW CAN THEY BE GIVEN THE RIGHT TO SHOOT THESE GODS AT WILL
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Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC
BIG GAME HUNTING
When you appear and everything else falls quiet there's only one voice left, mine, from bellow, from the forgotten memory in the chest. A fallen memory, it laughs and I always fall asleep. Always. You aren't there either. You are and you are not. Magic trick 1 : I can pull elephants out from a hat (even against your will). Magic trick 2: amazing flowers grow, invisible (even against my will). Maybe I'll like myself one day, someday, and that will be another magic trick. The last one.
0
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 9:32 AM UTC
Magic tricks
Dark mountains and stalactite tears blending into cave marks on the wall. A funeral? But warmth and belonging and a community of travel, hope, legacy. Footprints on the ground.
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
Ekphrastic Poem (on a picture I turned upside down).
All day I hear nothing From flat above; Not a footstep, Not a thud. All’s silent and then, With dread, I wonder if they’re still alive And hope that they’re not dead! And pray that’s not the reason why I never hear them move Across the floor above In thumpy-thuddy shoes. To take my mind off Thoughts of death and blood I imagine that The flat upstairs Is home To one gianormous slug. Who never makes a sound, Well, Because he has no feet And doesn’t need to go outside Go to the shops or walk down the street Because he’s filled his room with lots of houseplants So he can just stay in to eat. But safe to say I’m reassured At night when I try to sleep I hear the very lively sound of Noisy stomping feet Then sigh happily that they’re alive And smile, glad that I can still use salt. Without the fear of dissolving my landlord’s tenants And it being all my fault. Night after night I would hear heavy feet prance In the room above There was so much clomping and Loud stamping and clobbering That I’m pretty convinced They’re teaching elephants how to riverdance. Because of cause elephants cannot naturally jump So they teach them to dance in an effort to (metaphorically) Thump mother nature on the nose And say ‘look at these elephants bouncing Like pros. You’ve seen Tigger spring about Winnie the Pooh, But check out what these here elephants can do’ So that is my explanation to the noises upstairs And I understand why it’s only at night because To teach elephants in the daytime Well, that would cause a whole lot of Unnecessary affairs And a lot of fuss From the press Who would publicise the classes to the world And then elephants from everywhere Would travel in their droves With their hearts set on Being able to one day skip and hop And not have to sit down at the discos Everytime they heard music for the jive or the bop And the RSPCA would back it cause They’d say it’s only fair That elephants have the same opportunity to Learn how to jump in the air. And then there’d be a problem see because There would be no space for all the elephants To fit in a small, town house room And expect to have space to river dance; Well, what a stew! So that’s why they hold the lessons at night, In secret, with a class of perhaps two, Maybe three elephants at most. And then they’re silent in the daytime because Dancing wears you out So they sleep until the night falls And then they dance and prance about; Very, very noisily While those sleeping And those trying to sleep below Gradually doze off to the sounds of The future elephant Michael Flatley Upstairs practicing for their first dancing show. Well, that’s one explanation My alternative one is That the flat above is home To a nocturnal giant Who likes to tap dance. But that doesn’t seem quite as likely.
0
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 7:41 AM UTC
The Explanation
All day I hear nothing From flat above; Not a footstep, Not a thud. All’s silent and then, With dread, I wonder if they’re still alive And hope that they’re not dead! And pray that’s not the reason why I never hear them move Across the floor above In thumpy-thuddy shoes. To take my mind off Thoughts of death and blood I imagine that The flat upstairs Is home To one gianormous slug. Who never makes a sound, Well, Because he has no feet And doesn’t need to go outside Go to the shops or walk down the street Because he’s filled his room with lots of houseplants So he can just stay in to eat. But safe to say I’m reassured At night when I try to sleep I hear the very lively sound of Noisy stomping feet Then sigh happily that they’re alive And smile, glad that I can still use salt. Without the fear of dissolving my landlord’s tenants And it being all my fault. Night after night I would hear heavy feet prance In the room above There was so much clomping and Loud stamping and clobbering That I’m pretty convinced They’re teaching elephants how to riverdance. Because of cause elephants cannot naturally jump So they teach them to dance in an effort to (metaphorically) Thump mother nature on the nose And say ‘look at these elephants bouncing Like pros. You’ve seen Tigger spring about Winnie the Pooh, But check out what these here elephants can do’ So that is my explanation to the noises upstairs And I understand why it’s only at night because To teach elephants in the daytime Well, that would cause a whole lot of Unnecessary affairs And a lot of fuss From the press Who would publicise the classes to the world And then elephants from everywhere Would travel in their droves With their hearts set on Being able to one day skip and hop And not have to sit down at the discos Everytime they heard music for the jive or the bop And the RSPCA would back it cause They’d say it’s only fair That elephants have the same opportunity to Learn how to jump in the air. And then there’d be a problem see because There would be no space for all the elephants To fit in a small, town house room And expect to have space to river dance; Well, what a stew! So that’s why they hold the lessons at night, In secret, with a class of perhaps two, Maybe three elephants at most. And then they’re silent in the daytime because Dancing wears you out So they sleep until the night falls And then they dance and prance about; Very, very noisily While those sleeping And those trying to sleep below Gradually doze off to the sounds of The future elephant Michael Flatley Upstairs practicing for their first dancing show. Well, that’s one explanation My alternative one is That the flat above is home To a nocturnal giant Who likes to tap dance. But that doesn’t seem quite as likely.
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93
I hope and pray every single elephant escapes with their family, their ivory and their dignity and each one of them live to see another day and the poachers, well I hope they find a Job One that treats them kind, and pays them well So they will stop destroying beautiful creatures
0
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 9:38 PM UTC
Beautiful Creatures
(Tr)aveling w(i)th the younger I With her on your back She gazed at intricate diamonds of the dark. Never facing an ounce of (um)brage. With age, her knowledge flourished Growing from the water of your trunk Her brain was nourished with ex(p)erience Following in your trail Strengthening over time She (ha)d no i(nt)erest on your back Nor the night sky Rather clouds and the outside Away sh(E) wa(l)ked from your shadow With your trunk raised high Lions and crocodiles swarmed her on s(e)a and land With no trunk or tusk Adrenaline rushed She shook in nerves til dusk Continuing days with no shade Skin cells accepting harsh sun rays With the storm of your stom(p)s She awaited your presence (h)yen(a)s laughed as you came Splattering blood on your name You laid with your wheel As she wailed with no trunk She wept For you sculpted her i(nt)o who (s)he was Long, Long down the road. Buying from an old bookstore Finding a binder filled with the Royal Animals Turning the first sheet She noticed a stamp Reminding her of her stuffed friends Triumphant Elephants
0
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
Triumphant Elephants
through my heart through my soul when i hear your voice through my mind through my eyes when i see your hair through my life through my death when you have to leave
0
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
there are elephants marching
foreign lands I want to roam Where Kings and Queens sit upon their throne And big cats prowl, and wild dogs howl And there's every kind of fowl Where mighty elephants trumpet And with tea they serve crumpets I want to see the very old creations of man I know I'd be their biggest fan To walk the ground that Jesus tread And feed the masses with seven loaves of bread I would love to see the foreign sands To get homesick, then return again to my home land
0
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
I Want to Roam
I'm a ****** of ambition a clairvoyant whose true sight can only seer through my objectives. I am juxtaposed from my life-- from passion and experience feeling is a concept that lingers outside the realm where I reside; by choices I was forced to make. It has bibulous proportions that consume my cravings and intoxicate the senses-- So can we believe to be free instead of circus-elephants who plunged their trunks into a trough of indecision. Where caging and pushing each other to perform tricks for the audience is the normality of existing-- to be the scampering mouse that lives outside their barriers causes them to fear us to stampede and stomp until there is only obedience.
0
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Drunken Elephants
I never was the type to appreciate the sanctity of a funeral parlor. Their somber stink of lilies always turned my stomach. No— I need to be among the trees. Plan to take me to a wide open space in the middle of nowhere. We’ll make it a somewhere as soon as we arrive. No newspaper announcement with starched wording and unpolished details. The invitation should be in the form of a mix CD, and the details of time and place will be hidden clues derived from the song titles. Invite everyone I’ve ever made laugh and thank them for me, for returning the favor. If they question you on that, have them count it in the papery crinkles about my eyes. The truth will be waiting there. Set a smile on my face—one that proves how much joy prevailed. Dress me how you’ll remember me—comfortably, colorfully, and untamed. No make-up or hairspray. I want to exit this world just as pleasantly disheveled as a I entered it. When the day comes to say goodbye, lift me up on a giant patchwork pillow made from the hundreds of novelty t-shirts I wore threadbare in my twenties. Stuff the space between the seams with the pages of my countless journals I always felt the need to hide, even though I lived alone for most of my life. You’ll have more than enough stuffing, I promise. Feel free to keep whatever is left over for a good laugh when you need it. Sew the seams with bright gold thread and cover it with all of the coat buttons I managed to lose over the years. I’ll lead my gracious hoard of respect-payers as we travel to nowhere. Have the children ride on elephants that have been painted the reds, oranges, and purples to match the sunset. Paint their little faces to match if they’d like. There must be dancing bears and majestic tigers in tow too. A parade fit for a lover of life, complete with a marching band that plays nothing but horn-heavy soul to keep the journey a happening one. Prop me up against a willow tree when you’ve reached the spot. Lay out blankets for everyone to sit on, and hold the service well into the deep blues and purples of the evening. As the sun sets, and the lightning bugs take flight, man the masses with sparklers that will stay lit for hours. Have everyone spell out their favorite memories of me and stand in awe of the ardent glow in every direction.  Allow the children to feed the elephants all the peanuts they can handle. Enjoy the tigers’ purr and the bears’ tight hugs. Pretend they’re my very own that I didn’t get a chance to give. Set up an old jukebox nearby so that couples and friends can slow dance to Sam Cooke 45s as the sun disappears into the watery horizon. Pour the finest beers and wines for everyone willing, and tap into that West Virginia moonshine that I’ve always been too afraid to try. Clink your glasses and laugh from the belly as you drink to all of our missed friends and equally missed opportunities. Drink another for me and another for good luck. As the alcohol curbs the night’s chill, set me atop my pillow at the water’s edge. Line my body with candles, warmly lit and housed in all of the tiny temples of colored glass you could manage to find at the local thrift stores. Before you give me a push, take a minute to appreciate how all of their dancing shades create an unspoken magic against the dark sky. As I drift off into the sea, send a paper lantern up and away—one for every time you’ve seen me smile and two for every time you watched me cry. I know I was more alive in those tears than I could ever be in the curves of my grins. The time will be right, at some point—and when it is, have the limber young bodies climb the tallest trees and shoot hundreds of roman candles in my direction. I want to light up the night sky and go out with a bang more awe-inspiring than the Fourth of July. When I’m less than a bright speck on the horizon, find your way back to where we started. One less than before. When it’s all over, you’ll find me in the comfort of the warm light in every birthday candle and in the corners of your smile when you find happiness in a moment that you couldn’t buy. In every nowhere you find that turns into somewhere, I’ll be there, missing you too.
0
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
buckets for kicking
I never was the type to appreciate the sanctity of a funeral parlor. Their somber stink of lilies always turned my stomach. No— I need to be among the trees. Plan to take me to a wide open space in the middle of nowhere. We’ll make it a somewhere as soon as we arrive. No newspaper announcement with starched wording and unpolished details. The invitation should be in the form of a mix CD, and the details of time and place will be hidden clues derived from the song titles. Invite everyone I’ve ever made laugh and thank them for me, for returning the favor. If they question you on that, have them count it in the papery crinkles about my eyes. The truth will be waiting there. Set a smile on my face—one that proves how much joy prevailed. Dress me how you’ll remember me—comfortably, colorfully, and untamed. No make-up or hairspray. I want to exit this world just as pleasantly disheveled as a I entered it. When the day comes to say goodbye, lift me up on a giant patchwork pillow made from the hundreds of novelty t-shirts I wore threadbare in my twenties. Stuff the space between the seams with the pages of my countless journals I always felt the need to hide, even though I lived alone for most of my life. You’ll have more than enough stuffing, I promise. Feel free to keep whatever is left over for a good laugh when you need it. Sew the seams with bright gold thread and cover it with all of the coat buttons I managed to lose over the years. I’ll lead my gracious hoard of respect-payers as we travel to nowhere. Have the children ride on elephants that have been painted the reds, oranges, and purples to match the sunset. Paint their little faces to match if they’d like. There must be dancing bears and majestic tigers in tow too. A parade fit for a lover of life, complete with a marching band that plays nothing but horn-heavy soul to keep the journey a happening one. Prop me up against a willow tree when you’ve reached the spot. Lay out blankets for everyone to sit on, and hold the service well into the deep blues and purples of the evening. As the sun sets, and the lightning bugs take flight, man the masses with sparklers that will stay lit for hours. Have everyone spell out their favorite memories of me and stand in awe of the ardent glow in every direction.  Allow the children to feed the elephants all the peanuts they can handle. Enjoy the tigers’ purr and the bears’ tight hugs. Pretend they’re my very own that I didn’t get a chance to give. Set up an old jukebox nearby so that couples and friends can slow dance to Sam Cooke 45s as the sun disappears into the watery horizon. Pour the finest beers and wines for everyone willing, and tap into that West Virginia moonshine that I’ve always been too afraid to try. Clink your glasses and laugh from the belly as you drink to all of our missed friends and equally missed opportunities. Drink another for me and another for good luck. As the alcohol curbs the night’s chill, set me atop my pillow at the water’s edge. Line my body with candles, warmly lit and housed in all of the tiny temples of colored glass you could manage to find at the local thrift stores. Before you give me a push, take a minute to appreciate how all of their dancing shades create an unspoken magic against the dark sky. As I drift off into the sea, send a paper lantern up and away—one for every time you’ve seen me smile and two for every time you watched me cry. I know I was more alive in those tears than I could ever be in the curves of my grins. The time will be right, at some point—and when it is, have the limber young bodies climb the tallest trees and shoot hundreds of roman candles in my direction. I want to light up the night sky and go out with a bang more awe-inspiring than the Fourth of July. When I’m less than a bright speck on the horizon, find your way back to where we started. One less than before. When it’s all over, you’ll find me in the comfort of the warm light in every birthday candle and in the corners of your smile when you find happiness in a moment that you couldn’t buy. In every nowhere you find that turns into somewhere, I’ll be there, missing you too.
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