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"christopherson" poems
my goodness is a fraud My god is much more mod yet tawd- Ry it is too you see... See? Christopherson Robin is my g.i. joe nickname for the ** No! I am jest though one who knows not cannot know. HOT. this *** of kettle trash talk i invent and vent Relent. There I went, dent and all.
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Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
MY GOODNESS
I had heartaches I had tragedy I had broken people surrounding me I had love I had lies The people to whom I said goodbye My confusion, my pain Innocence broken But a strength to gain I hope one more thing will come from all of this For the sun and for my eyes to finally kiss A heart still beating A dream still near Find the sun... Because it’s still here -Lindsey Christopherson
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Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
Find The Sun
Cherry pits and Goodtime while I avoided your frame Christopherson carrying us quietly... or maybe it was Paul Simon (I forget) And I listen to your subcutaneous single-serve salvation while you're seeing trees for their root structure watching the AudioArbor curl and weave with the hue of that little toy xylophone you two found in some box in the basement and I feel discovered all over again I don't know how teaching me a cleat hitch stumbled into Kant and 21st-century relationship structure That's a path only you could manage flanked by a witty remark about the weather or traffic or my day skimming the depths on nothing more than Zephyr's respiration And now I know patience was wrong watching concentrated ambition simply... snuffed waiting and wisting ebb as you tip-toe to oblivion
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Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 12:17 AM UTC
Potentiation