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Dry
Just let me go to sleep with dry eyes

please...

just once?
I can't stand you breaking my heart over and over.....but i still can't let you go.....
Last night I had a dream about a poem..
I woke up and forgot it...
But it was only meant to inspire me to write about it...
You know deep thoughts and dreams....
The ones we never share....
The world would be a better place if ya'll think like I do...
But it seems like ya'll don't even care....
Ya'll just want to complain about how this life isn't fair...
While all I want to do is write all my thoughts on a page and share...
Hoping I make you see what I see...
If life has a set path...
I'm just trying to figure out my destiny...
Trying to turn my pains into pleasure...
My tears into treasure...
So I dreamed about a poem...
I think that poem was about Peace...
Serenity...
& Tranquility...
But that dream was out of reach....
It's seems it was right up there with Luther's...
When they killed him the marchers became looters...
Which tells me it's dangerous to dream...
But if I didn't dream....
I'd be stuck in this world...
Where not God but the devil is king...
"Stop thief" I yelled out chasing her,
            she stopped, hugged and kissed me deep-
                                                   consummating her theft.
I will drift from you
Forget you with time
Give me what i want

I will still be mine
 Dec 2012 the disappeared
dj
Nausea
 Dec 2012 the disappeared
dj
A whipping disorientation
whallops me like a
cicada falling out of a tree
Slight at first, but disgust
upon realization that
I don't
know what
I'm doing.

Where what
Oh god
It is beyond sick
thinking about college again
I know it's kind of crazy
but I wonder about our hands sometimes,
and how they can fit so perfectly together,
and whether the fleeting happiness
that comes from solving a puzzle
is worth the process
of making it.
When two different
states
               of
                       reality
collidewiththeinitialstateofreality
creating some sort of
strange i m a g i n a t i o n
imitations|snoitatimi
and, of course,
more infatuations with what isn't than
what is.
I've only talked to you once.
We were in the school library.
I was cutting out on Biology and you were working ******* finishing a Chemistry lab write up.
I noticed how beautiful you looked as you walked up to the Librarian's desk and asked for a tissue to blow your nose.
Your dark hair was pulled back and your tights wrapped perfectly around your legs and you lipstick was the perfect shade of red and your boots came a quarter of the way up your shin and I never felt so emotionally detached from the world around me as I did in that moment, watching you blow your nose.

As you walked passed I said in a hush only you could hear "Love is more thicker than forget; more thinner than recall; more seldom than a wave is wet; more frequent than to fail."

And you stopped there, in that moment. You did not turn around but simply said "It is most mad and moonly, and less it shall unbe; than all the sea; which only is deeper than the sea."

And in that moment I never felt so found. I never felt so infinite.
We were connected by the meaning of our recitals
as well as by the soles of our shoes.

And when something is so truly beautiful it is lost.
And it must never be found.
And so we have not spoken again.
Yet we know so much about the other.
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