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Phillip Walter Apr 2018
I write in words and ink but live in blood and tears.
That's really all the difference.
Because my written thoughts are black and white and clear.
Ink.
And my life is a whirlwind of energy and ****** oceans. Intense and swirling waters. Constant waves lapping up the shore.
Blood.
Beautiful. Ceaseless. Sometimes dangerous.
And words written in ink may seem more perfect but life's written in blood. So I dare to write in blood.
Because blood is warm. And  life. And connection.
And I want to provide warmth, life and connection more than perfection.
Because it's what I want to receive.
They say that blood is thicker than water. But I think that blood may be thinner than ink.
Because the perfectly spoken word can be as warm and connecting and life giving as the complete and imperfect  human beings that I meet.
When in loneliness and hurt and low  in energy. When the fear is in meeting with other people, in connecting with them.  When I can't tolerate the warmth that might come from risking connection. Maybe because I fear burning up from the heat.  and maybe for i  feel like a candle that's been burned to it's end. And I  am afraid that I cant endure any more burning.
But.
Ink. On paper. When brought to my nearly dying flame, suddenly causes flames. I catch on fire.
I've found connection in people and paper.
I've found love in blood and ink.
Because in both I've found you and some new parts of myself.
Phillip Walter Apr 2018
I wonder at the ironies
of shadows and of light.
for the storm's shadow is a rainbow
and the sun's is black as night.
And i know where the rainbow hides
when the storm is dead
and i know where the shadows lay
after the sun has set
the rainbows sit in the sun
and shadows lay in the night
and i know because my life is
but shadows, rainbows, light.
  Apr 2018 Phillip Walter
bcg poetry
"I'm too young to feel this empty."

"We all are."
  Apr 2018 Phillip Walter
Bluebird
what would you do if i tell
your mind to take a rest,
because all of people that died before us
are now living in our chests.
  Apr 2018 Phillip Walter
josin137
---
I wish I had given him some space,
So that he never needed any more*.
Phillip Walter Apr 2018
John Green says 'a lot of things will hurt you, but only the last thing will **** you'.
Perhaps life's purpose is to maintain our curousity about that final, capitalized T, Thing.
Not in a 'predict your future' horoscopic sense, but rather as a barometer of 'is this the most awful event that is destined to be my last' scale.
Is this a merely a lost battle or is it a lost war?
Will this be just another difficult time whose intensity will ultimately fade in the dust that settles with enough sunlight and time.
I wonder often about the stories we tell about those times that hurt so bad, they nearly killed us.
Not the stories we tell others,
though those do matter. Just as well.
Rather the stories we tell ourselves.
and how they are remembered can matter more than how they really were.
For they may have only hurt when it happened.
But they may be the last thing that will **** you.
Don't let others play the tune for your finale
as your curtain comes down.
Phillip Walter Apr 2018
i dare to wish
and tend to dream
for the alternative would be
a life of limited to worries
and what i know and see.
And some say that hope is futile
a live yet barren tree
but i believe in the thousand stars
that light the dark for me.
And hope may be the thing with feathers
but whats not said, yet's true.
Is that the thing with feathers
can fly right up to you
it can build a nest upon your window
and lay a golden egg
and i grant myself these empty dreams
so that i at least have that.
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