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There comes a point in your life
when you stop enjoying romantic movie scenes anymore
touch feels skin
kiss feels yet another lips
getting together feels existing together
love feels commitment
and that commitment never feels romantic

you search for romance
you force for it
but never get the butterflies again
dreams of the tide,
loneliness,
bold landscapes,
a breeze blowing roses.
If only I was a bit thinner
If only I got a bit taller
If only I didn't have to wear glasses
If only I got nice clothes
If only I could put a bright smile on my face everyday

If only I have enough confidence in myself
To show you how much I can be
In front of you
 Aug 2015 Virginia S
Harsh
My eyes are strained against an LCD,
my fingers mindlessly tapping away.

                                                          ­        [My eyes are on the road,]
                                                          ­        [my fingers intertwined with yours.]

I look up at the clock,
the entire day is behind me now.

                                                           ­       [I look up at my rearview,]
                                                      ­            [the entire city is behind me now]

I lean back in my office seat
and let out a sigh of exasperation.

                                                  ­                [I lean back in the driver's seat]
                                                           ­       [and let out a sigh of content]

The droning sound of the printer
drags with my monotonous heart.

                                                         ­         [The melodic sound of your laughter]
                                                       ­           [lifts my symphonic heart]

I work until the sun drops

                                                               ­   [We drive until the sun rises]

                                                  and then
We drive.
                                                          ­        [I work.]
Inspired by the song "Next In Line" x Walk The Moon
 Aug 2015 Virginia S
Mickey Lucas
I call myself a writer yet I'm awful with words and every time I say sorry it's more like an exit wound than an apology. It's difficult to tell you what I'm feeling when I don't know how to speak and I'll go on talking in my broken languages until you realize you will never understand me. Everyone is telling me I need to stop running away from my problems but I've already tried hiding from them and they'll just keep finding me. I keep thinking that maybe if I smile a little more you'll always be here and I want to **** the thing inside you that makes you leave. I have attachment issues because I remember when I was little and not understanding when people told me they'd "be home later" that they never considered anywhere that I was a home. And maybe I don't want to talk about what you did maybe I want to talk about songs and cities and which direction we're going to walk next and if you want to keep the shirt I'm wearing and if touching each other a certain way is okay and how many buttons you leave open on your flannels and how I'm getting home tonight.
 Aug 2015 Virginia S
ryn
Awake this day...
And never fear.
I believe...
everything would be much clearer.
This day more than most...

For this day...
And everyday forward,
the sun would rise in haste to propose a toast...
to the undoubtedly most significant people... 

in my heart...

The moon would pull on the tides...
My thoughts and well wishes on waves they ride,
racing to farthest reaches of your recluse.

Just so this day you'd know
More than most days would show...
That my belief will withstand the fires of a hundred guns.
That my love would blaze with the fury of a thousand suns.

Know that,
this day the planets and stars finally would inherit their orbit true.

This day...
And everyday forth...

the universe would and must revolve around you.
For the writers who've left...
 Aug 2015 Virginia S
Sarah
When I was young
I thought that the hardest thing I would ever do
Was face the mean girls down the street
And falling asleep when it was time

Now as I've grown older
I realized the hardest thing I would ever do
Is looking into those eyes
As you said goodbye
And waking up when it is time
You've returned to her
But you've forgotten to return my heart..
 Aug 2015 Virginia S
dancingpasta
There was once a man who loved the brightest light.

He loved the light so much he couldn't see anything else but its blinding rays.

He lived knowing the world was white and the only thing existing was his light.

One day the light left him.

He felt lost.

He couldn't see anything, he claimed.

He spent his days mourning for his lost love, not knowing it did not worth it;

For true love was never blinding.


Then, another light came, claiming that it loves him.

It was not as bright as the one he loved but bright enough to make the man see not only the other beautiful things in the world but most importantly, the astonishing beauty he has.

It made him see how graceful his fingers move, how strong his chest looked as he breathes and how beautiful his muscles flexed as he embraced.

The new light made the man love himself.

That was the time the man realized that true love was not the perfect light.

True love was the light that appreciates and cares and embraces you back.

No matter how less its light might be or how often its light flickers, it would still share its brightness to you.

To make you see how worthy you are of loving.

To make you realize you don’t need too much light

For you, yourself, was one.
Cross-posted from my other account. Hope you liked it.
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