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Taylor Bart Aug 2011
My path has never been on the straight and narrow
Its been a winding trail, over mountains
Though streams
Pieces have been missing
I’ve had to build my road as I go
Creating my own detours
Perhaps straying from the course
Sometimes stumbling into the blackness,
Of a forest
Or a mistake.

But I have also seen beauty on my travels
A forgiveness, and acceptance that shines
I have waded into the waters of youth
And slept in the meadow of knowing

The people I have met along the way
Like hitchhikers, picking me up instead
For I carry none with me,
The burden to satisfy grows too heavy
I always stumble despite my best intentions
And disappoint, even the most beautiful of people
The falling is inevitable, like the passing of a day
Or the chill of the frost on the grass,
Before the sun breathes its hot breath.

I don’t know if my road will get me to the golden gates
The ones that await you
For my path always seems to disappear over the horizon

-Taylor
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
Wading into a stream,
Letting my fingertips skim the surface
Compelling them to inhale
The words the water speak
Before
I am grasping
Desperately
To hold onto the waves
That seem to be rushing
Faster, the more frenzied my attempts become
Until my movements become sloppy
And the river becomes angry
Not just passing though my fingers,
But slicing them, like a punishment
That I deserve

I try to push my own words
Back down my fingertips
Anticipating that the line goes both ways
And maybe this will make you hear me
I hope you want to hear me
And that you can understand

But you’ve passed by me so fast
That I don’t even know if its you
Who I’m reaching for anymore
And my reckless attempts turn
To pathetic cries
Filled with sorry, and judgment
And shame
And regret
That I couldn’t hold on,
When you were right in front of me.

-Taylor


Never ruin an apology with an excuse.
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
Lets wait here, for our lives to begin
Swimming in a pool of callow memories
Stealing a drink from the fountain
And pondering what we’re waiting for

We float and let the days wistfully pass by
Never acknowledging our discontent

We reside in the paper towns, fragile and light
Holding our breath
Anticipating, anxious for the breeze
To blow us away
Before we get the chance to figure it all out

-Taylor
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
The rocky steps that lead to the sea
Were always a problem to climb
Always one careful step from a chaotic tumble
Into the misty void

And once the journey was made
Cold gray sand greeted me
Like a lonely desert
The horizon seeming father away

By chance id make it
To the edge of a frozen mouth
Already so drained of yellow life
Ready for the pain, the ice
To jolt me awake
To open my eyes to this grey sky

I would wait

Then hear your eerie whispers
Calling through the sea
The waves swelling, you
Would wrap your fingers around my ankles
I would breath out in relief

A fearful alertness, you were here
Your hair in the blue-grey sea foam
Your breath, the piercing wind
That slapped my cheeks

Your salty words, unsatisfying
Plugging my ears
Until all I hear are your letdowns
And fury.

The skies would darken, and
The swell would become greater
Until I open my mouth and scream
That I can’t take your bruises
And I can’t take my own delusions

But you have already started to pour down my lungs
Filling me with your ice and confusion
And I can see
All your doubts
And blackness
And overflowing emptiness

And I almost feel sorry, like I’ve failed you.
And I couldn’t help you
But I remembered,
You drowned me
With yourself.


-Taylor
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
It started with dancing
A shiver,
A calm.
Boom, Bass.
And words.
Oh the words.
Feet stamping, hair wild.
Pulsing.
Then the crowds.
Oh, the crowds.
Pressing up, closer.
Touching, begging
Go on.
Oh, go on.
Sweat.
Desperation.
A longing.
Crazed beauty.
And she wondered,
Do I dance for the music,
Or for the people?
And they said,
Go on, oh dance on.
And she did.

-Taylor
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
Following street lamps,
and fighting the tide
Realizing, i'm losing the battle
Because i will never find the words
The ones filled with fairytales
Like the paper bag princess,
Always fearing the worst
Crying rainbow tears, and daring dragons
They lock up themselves you know.

I am finally understanding,
what you meant, when you said,
That thing you didn't quite understand yourself.
That you don't understand yourself.
At all.

And as i am locked up, in my forbidden tower
I watch the clocks.
Hour hands.
Spinning wildly out of control.
The sun being pulled by a string,
by a changing mind, who just can't decide.

Because I will never find the words.
Or the keys.
To be the damsel, who will somehow save the prince.
But then,
i remembered
that i adore you.
And in these kind of stories, that is usually enough
For my twisted kind
of happily ever after.
Taylor Bart Aug 2011
Holding my ball of fading yellow yarn
Knowing what its like to be so disconnected
All my strings
Being cut
The elasticity wearing thin
But we all have our obsessions
The ones we feed, only to make them stronger

The separations,
Like I’m behind a glass wall
Watching the nice little ribbons
Being tied together
And looking so beautiful
With all their bright colors

You are the neat little packages
I will never fit into.

-Taylor
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