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 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
Second Home
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
I live through the last lines in books. Thats where you could find me if you wanted to. Thats where I reside.

I don't mind the dust. In fact, I've grown to befriend the lonely particles as well as the dog-eared pages I used to despise.

But, still- If you want, you could find me. Only at the last line of books.
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
I used to think of my parents as divorced.

Legally, they were not. They lived in the same house, had the same last names, and on every legal document it stated that they were married.

Though it did not feel like that.

They lived in the same house, but they did not share the same bed. They had the same last names, but their morals were so different they seemed like strangers. They were technically married, but it felt as if they have been divorced for years.

As a child this brooding question had been lingering in my mind that has yet to be answered.

Why do people stay when they are supposed to leave?
Or why do people leave when they are supposed to stay?

I asked my mother why she did not leave my father yet, and she said it was because of my siblings and I. Though, the way she said it seemed as if it was an excuse for something bigger. Every time I would push her to answer my question, she would scold me for being too curious and repeat the same saying , “Curiosity killed the cat,”.
But I was not a cat. I was a confused child who has been through too many years of her parents fighting for no reason or too many reasons.

I grew older, my parents were still together, and the question still never left my mind. Before I knew it, relationships were sprouting all around me. All my friends changed their relationship statues to Taken, my sister started talking about boys more often, and every question out of everyone’s mouth was who was single and who was on the market. It sounded as if everyone became merchants waiting eagerly until a new, rare, product was in stock.

Of course, people fell out of relationships, and I realized it was the same way of falling out of love. It’s just as easy as falling in it, and thats what people are afraid of. I started asking around my question again.

Why do people stay when they are supposed to leave?
Why do people leave when they are supposed to stay?

And the answer remained in the format of excuses. It was always because of someone else leaving first, or the usual “thats just how things are,”response. It was so frustrating.

Out of bitter frustration, I decided to figure it out myself. I allowed myself to become very close with once a mutual friend. We shared secrets and told each other embarrassing stories we never told anyone before. We went out of our way just to see each other and even called each other Soul Mates. I found myself forgetting that this was all an experiment, and started to believe that we were, in fact, Soul Mates. We started to talk about getting into the same colleges, and moving in with each other while in college and after. We started planning road trips that would take two months and even introduced ourselves to each others parents.

Then that person left. Just as easily as they came.

It took me by sudden surprise, and I became immobilized for a while due to shock. I realized that it hurt, giving all of yourself to someone and letting them walk away with all you gave them as if you’re just a nostalgic memory, or a forgotten trinket. My question surfaced again, with much more rage and hurt this time.

Why do people stay when they are supposed to leave?
Why do people leave when they are supposed to stay?
Why do people leave?
Why do people always leave?

In my final conclusion of my hypothesis, I have realized that people leave because they were not supposed to stay in the first place. Everyone and Everything is temporary. I do not think the point of life is to find your soul mate. I do not think its to find someone to spend your whole life with. I think its to try and change every persons life you encounter with. It does not have to be nuclear, it could be really subtle. But change it in some way, for the better hopefully.

I think my parents are staying together for the better. I hope so, at least.
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
Come to me

with those light eyes illuminating in the darkness
filled with lust, hope, dust ... maybe even love

Walk slowly

with each step
making small vibrations in the house I wish to call my home
I want to hear every creak and every whine it makes
I want to hear it breathe

Don't rush
Take your time

I want to see your chest rise and fall-- quickening with each step you take towards me
I want you to bite your bottom lip, or run your tongue over it
I want to see your eyes look me over.

You don't look at me like you only want me in your bed--
but with you, completely.
like you want to see me in your next life (and the one after that)
like I was the Garden of Eden and you were Adam
like I just became your favorite song or movie
like I was a dream-- the one you'll never forget

Hold your hand out now

let me see the blood pulse through your veins
let the anticipation build up

Be steady as you come closer
I can smell you now,
hints of your cologne from this morning
and a rush of your soap from the shower just now

I hear you say my name from your lips
barely a whisper
barely even heard-- but my skin ****** nevertheless

I'm yearning for you
Come to me
Come to me and never go back to where you were before
Come to me
Come to me

*come to me
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
raine cooper
you wrote a story
of a girl and a boy
they fell in love with old books
and each other
but the pen wasn't real
and sadly,
neither were you
#boy #girl #books #pen #story
If I offered you blood,
The screed light of moon,
In tempest night of storm,
As nigh as my faint heart,
Would you pray penances,
Acknowledge new ablutions,
At creed, alter of strands,
Of oceans and seas alight,
Under a moon so struck,
With fires of salted water,
Tears that rain from within
And wrest your old troubles
In the beams on my love,
If I offered you blood?
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
Chris
Untitled
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
Chris
It's a shame I wasn't the one to break your heart;
You would have made a better poet.
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
PSA
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
pluto
PSA
if you're in my life theres probably
a poem written about you
i keep telling myself to stop using you to self medicate

but the sound of your name is enough to close my wounds

remember the night I told you that you're my home and that

i wrote my poems on my skin because i wanted to place them somewhere you would notice

i asked you to take me to the mountains so we could fall in love at the highest peak

you said you wanted to reach into the sky and pull down a star for me

i don't even know who i am anymore. i'm stuck between the person i was before you and the person i am with you.

and now you're gone

sincerely, a girl who could never apologize for loving you
each stanza is a sentence from an unfinished poem of mine.
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
raine cooper
i need to get tangled in you, and forget that there's a world outside our door
©rainecooper
 Sep 2015 VVanGone
raine cooper
how do you stand it?
to be not known or understood by all who surround you
i imagine it's like living in a cage, and not a single one of them realizing you are trapped
©rainecooper

— The End —