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#tate
A love like tate and violet Tragic but beautiful Ever untouchable but non lasting I once thought I wanted a love like this But I want a love that's ever lasting Tragedy is beautiful But I would rather die in the arms of someone faithful So why have a love like tate and violet When you too can create a beautiful love Full of tragedy but that's ever lasting
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
A love like tate and violet
I told myself not to fall back into you're arms that you were out to get me even though you were the only person I had I told myself that your words were lies that you were just lying to me I told myself not to get to comfortable because it will all be gone soon I told myself not to fall in love with  you because you are sick and insane But I guess I loved it like the cigarettes I smoke you were my drug that kept me so high for so long.
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Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
My drug
Nebulous and Refined The castle is a chain-smoker. The king wears a three piece suit. And in the air, most everywhere that scent just does not dilute. - A car lot filled with scribes and serfs that assemble to deliver their willing tax. They bump and argue for the closest view of their Man-God on high: Glycine max. - Employment is down! Crime is up! What if the factories all move away? This town will surely shrivel and die! That's what the soiled townsfolk say. - They humbly bow to their master's whim but behind him they say much more. Another Dead Man found Stale Lee in the vents. Carcinoma galore.
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part I: Nebulous and Refined
i was walking around in the Tate on the Thames Embankment London that day it was hot hot hot the heat haze shimmered above the river like the sweat that rose off my back i saw you all mixed up with Picasso's misplaced eyes in Malaga blue long necks, curved limbs askew morning balconies the sculpture of a goat made of a basket ***** ram with a bicycle seat we weren't allowed to ride i kept thinking of painted naked flesh Velasquez, Degas, Matisse and flying to Malaga, Barcelona, Granada, Paris, Venice, New York all the cities we could **** in over and over and over if we ran off together right then any cheap hotel room with a bed and a shower would do we could give up on looking at art completely screaming meaningless poems words endless passionate words consumed by life
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
what Picasso did for me