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"expels" poems
#*O Lord Jesus, I want to live and walk and bow in constant awe of You, but I am so easily distracted and waylaid. Fasten my eyes and heart on You, for You alone are worthy. I am not worthy to even peek at Your beauty, but by Your own worthiness You've invited me to dwell forever in Your presence, yet how often I refuse the privilege. Why would I ever do that? What is wrong with me? How hard-headed and hard-hearted I must be! Save me from my messed-up self and from this messed-up world, for I am sorely helpless and lost without You. Draw me by the force of Your love into the light of Your glory and goodness, awaken me to the healing touch of Your Word. Capture and change me to the core, for only You can, my Savior. Rid my soul of its blinding filth, muck, rot and ********** that I may freely sing, dance, swim and soar in the wonder of You. Cause me to crave You with an insatiable, desperate appetite that expels my fleshly hunger. Teach me to ever feast on You! I need You and long for You, Jesus, but send the burning, ripping ache deeper, deeper, deeper until nothing remains but desire for You. Come and satisfy me, O Delight of delights, in that glorious and awestruck place of endless fascination and total possession where my will is finally drowned in Yours.*#
0
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 2:12 PM UTC
Capture and Possess, O Lord (I)
There are days when the sky is a vibrant blue and the sun expels its warmth upon my shoulders, then there are days when the sky is filled with nothing but a melancholy grey, and I embody nothing but the rain. On those days, I may have to drink an extra cup of coffee to pull myself out of bed and face the slight suffocation the real world places upon me. On those days, I may not have much of an appetite and will push away any thought of food, even though I know I should eat. On those days, my eyes may become heavy, filled with just as much water as the storm clouds lingering up above me. Some days I wake up feeling as radiant as the sun, and some days I wake up feeling as dreary as the rain. But at least I always make sure to wake up and be something.
0
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
Come and Go
The future is a blur of smudged paint Dragged across the canvas by inexperienced shaking hands They tell me it is beautiful But I can only see the mess that I have made The sickly brown smeared across my palms that however hard I try I cannot wash away I cannot dream in future vision I cannot slip those time traveler lenses over my eyes I cannot see the ultraviolet, only the ultra-violent And I bleed away my worries in words that no one shall ever read And I scream away my sorrows in voices that never belonged to me The future is a daydream, Bright skies and gentle waves That wash away my purple fingertips And yet when I dream of my own Those waves become polluted, the sky falls upon the crashing waves Drowning my fingertips in their suffocating embrace and tightening the nooses on my toes My future is non-existent It is late night conversation to keep the day away a little longer It is glances through crowds of people who, like you and I, will die eventually It is your face breaking apart with a smile that expels so much light- so much goodness My future is a daydream, a night dream and all the in-between My future is the terrifying unknown My future is sitting at bus stops waiting for a taxi And knowing that it will never come But waiting anyway just so that I can watch the sunset It is snow storms and rainy days It is running barefoot through a field with no real direction It is counting the stars at midday I tell myself that my future is non-existent And yet It is so full and so bright It may not last forever And I will die, as will you. But this moment This is the future. This is rolling skies and glittering streams. It is streetlamps that never seem to turn off And streets that I don't yet know the names of. My future is a blur of smudged paint And though it may not be clear or simple It is wonderful and it is mine.
0
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
Paint
The future is a blur of smudged paint Dragged across the canvas by inexperienced shaking hands They tell me it is beautiful But I can only see the mess that I have made The sickly brown smeared across my palms that however hard I try I cannot wash away I cannot dream in future vision I cannot slip those time traveler lenses over my eyes I cannot see the ultraviolet, only the ultra-violent And I bleed away my worries in words that no one shall ever read And I scream away my sorrows in voices that never belonged to me The future is a daydream, Bright skies and gentle waves That wash away my purple fingertips And yet when I dream of my own Those waves become polluted, the sky falls upon the crashing waves Drowning my fingertips in their suffocating embrace and tightening the nooses on my toes My future is non-existent It is late night conversation to keep the day away a little longer It is glances through crowds of people who, like you and I, will die eventually It is your face breaking apart with a smile that expels so much light- so much goodness My future is a daydream, a night dream and all the in-between My future is the terrifying unknown My future is sitting at bus stops waiting for a taxi And knowing that it will never come But waiting anyway just so that I can watch the sunset It is snow storms and rainy days It is running barefoot through a field with no real direction It is counting the stars at midday I tell myself that my future is non-existent And yet It is so full and so bright It may not last forever And I will die, as will you. But this moment This is the future. This is rolling skies and glittering streams. It is streetlamps that never seem to turn off And streets that I don't yet know the names of. My future is a blur of smudged paint And though it may not be clear or simple It is wonderful and it is mine.
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42
An afternoon breeze expels cold air, along with the fallen brown leaves. Cherry blossoms bloom, softly falling from the tree, explode into night. The warmth on my skin. Fire falls beneath the trees. I see the sun set. Summer here again. Music plays sweetly, drifting. And life is renewed. A winter blanket covers the Earth in repose but only a dream An ocean voyage. As waves break over the bow, the sea welcomes me. - Anonymous
0
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
Nature
The water rushes over me heart beatin' like a river Water, water Rush, rush And I'm all out of shame and I've emptied my veins Father, Father Hush, hush Following immersion spiritual incursion restoration of sight brought to mind Water, water Rush, rush Wisdom, understanding knowledge notwithstanding my very thoughts had gone blind Father, Father Hush, hush Expels the enemy- dastardly dealer ensconced, encamped Water, water Rush, rush Comes the Helper- unfathomable healer reborn, revamped Father, Father Hush, hush ©Jason Cole
0
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
Wonderfall
The Story of Gypsy of Wind dust has dissipated When it rained Gypsy sang With his guitar, which he inherited from his father .. The last farewell song ... As he crosses the Earth Without thinking of a terminal to reach ... A fugitive from modernity. From every paved road .. Of all the twinkling constellations .. From the noise of cities .. From the gloom of government buildings. The gypsy diverges, Evading sandy roads. He meets the boys of the villages .. He sings and they dance.. He passes near the peasant women with red hair covers. He plays love tunes for them. Until their cheeks flush ... He meets the shepherds ... and avoids them ... he receives the wide plains With bright eyes And on his back He hung up his guitar, which he inherited from his father. ..... The gypsy meets the girl of his dreams. But he leaves her to continue trekking. Gypsy knows no boundaries .. He does not know what warm rooms mean. He does not know what daily work means. He does not know what school means .. Because he does not want to learn .. Rather, he should live on the road. .... The gypsy has no identity papers. But he does not know what the meaning of stained papers and seals. The gypsy does not know power .. when he meets the mayor of the village he Whoops: Why do they obey you when they are free .. The gypsy knows no hunger .. Because he eats anything in nature. Flowers and butterflies .. Rivers mud ... Then he pulls his guitar from his back. And he goes on trekking He plays a song that tells about a dream With the warmth of a beautiful woman's chest. Gypsy travels after the spring. as if he tied with a rope.. He does not like winter .. He does not like summer .. He does not like autumn .. Like birds in the sky .. Gipsy follows the scent of silt and nectar. He points with his finger to the distant horizon: - It rained there.. He plays a rain song ... ..... What do you have, gypsy? The bar girl asks him In transit hours standing He says: What do you mean by the word "you have"? The gypsy has nothing .. Because he has everything. He has his freedom .. A girl spends a night with him Then she expels him from her arms in the morning So he takes up his guitar And he sings in tears over his broken heart. Passing through plains and mountains .. To where he does not know .... Truck drivers meet him They offer to get him to where he wants.. But he refuses .. He doesn't want to miss a moment without being in the heart of nature ... Sings Consuming time with his guitar His guitar, which he inherited from his father .. His father who does not know him ... But what his mother told him before her death when they were traveling on the way .. He buries her .. And he prays for her soul.. Without knowing which god he is praying to.. He smiles .. And he goes on its eternal journey ..... When crossing forests.. He is surrounded by hyenas. He pulls his guitar and sings. The hyenas watched him in amazement. they remain amazed as they snaps his flesh.. And he is still singing Playing his guitar His guitar, which he inherited from his father .. His father who never knew him ..
0
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 2:06 PM UTC
The Story of Gypsy of Wind
The Story of Gypsy of Wind dust has dissipated When it rained Gypsy sang With his guitar, which he inherited from his father .. The last farewell song ... As he crosses the Earth Without thinking of a terminal to reach ... A fugitive from modernity. From every paved road .. Of all the twinkling constellations .. From the noise of cities .. From the gloom of government buildings. The gypsy diverges, Evading sandy roads. He meets the boys of the villages .. He sings and they dance.. He passes near the peasant women with red hair covers. He plays love tunes for them. Until their cheeks flush ... He meets the shepherds ... and avoids them ... he receives the wide plains With bright eyes And on his back He hung up his guitar, which he inherited from his father. ..... The gypsy meets the girl of his dreams. But he leaves her to continue trekking. Gypsy knows no boundaries .. He does not know what warm rooms mean. He does not know what daily work means. He does not know what school means .. Because he does not want to learn .. Rather, he should live on the road. .... The gypsy has no identity papers. But he does not know what the meaning of stained papers and seals. The gypsy does not know power .. when he meets the mayor of the village he Whoops: Why do they obey you when they are free .. The gypsy knows no hunger .. Because he eats anything in nature. Flowers and butterflies .. Rivers mud ... Then he pulls his guitar from his back. And he goes on trekking He plays a song that tells about a dream With the warmth of a beautiful woman's chest. Gypsy travels after the spring. as if he tied with a rope.. He does not like winter .. He does not like summer .. He does not like autumn .. Like birds in the sky .. Gipsy follows the scent of silt and nectar. He points with his finger to the distant horizon: - It rained there.. He plays a rain song ... ..... What do you have, gypsy? The bar girl asks him In transit hours standing He says: What do you mean by the word "you have"? The gypsy has nothing .. Because he has everything. He has his freedom .. A girl spends a night with him Then she expels him from her arms in the morning So he takes up his guitar And he sings in tears over his broken heart. Passing through plains and mountains .. To where he does not know .... Truck drivers meet him They offer to get him to where he wants.. But he refuses .. He doesn't want to miss a moment without being in the heart of nature ... Sings Consuming time with his guitar His guitar, which he inherited from his father .. His father who does not know him ... But what his mother told him before her death when they were traveling on the way .. He buries her .. And he prays for her soul.. Without knowing which god he is praying to.. He smiles .. And he goes on its eternal journey ..... When crossing forests.. He is surrounded by hyenas. He pulls his guitar and sings. The hyenas watched him in amazement. they remain amazed as they snaps his flesh.. And he is still singing Playing his guitar His guitar, which he inherited from his father .. His father who never knew him ..
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100
*Your soft voice is my cure It expels out that fear Your heart is so pure It smothers that fire I can't bear.*
0
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
All of me adores all of you
I didn't expect such an eloquent piece of work to slip from your mouth, An amazing set of words put together as intricate an atom bomb, Or as an improvised explosive device, so i see, Thus I must be careful where i tread my glass slippered feet, and be aware of what breath of words expels from my lips. I never expected such a skill set of destruction and warfare, From a beautiful mouth, so deceptive, that it almost seems, you are an undercover lover, both beneath the sheets, and between distinguished conversations, regarding such tentative ideals of love and the ambiguity of trust. A terrorist it seems amongst the ranks with a finger on the trigger, with a finger on my lips, and a whisper hush in my ear. It seems i was blind to your type of sweet deception; There are codes i didn't understand, and my mind was melting, from the heat of your touch and the sublime twist of your hips. I can see your eyes ready to deploy a subterfuge of promises, as they look into the distance calculating the logistics, of this moonlight illicit flit of passion; Never did i expect such an eloquent transpose of intentions, Even remarkably as this feels like the Romeo and Juliette of modern times. I am the 'x marks the spot' in no-mans-land it seems, I am the calm after the storm in the aftermath of your expostulation, You, my love, are a sublime soldier in this battlefield we call 'togetherness'. No-one asked you to go to this infernal devastating war; Yet i long for your return from the eternal, internal battle, you fight between your heart and your head.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
The War
I didn't expect such an eloquent piece of work to slip from your mouth, An amazing set of words put together as intricate an atom bomb, Or as an improvised explosive device, so i see, Thus I must be careful where i tread my glass slippered feet, and be aware of what breath of words expels from my lips. I never expected such a skill set of destruction and warfare, From a beautiful mouth, so deceptive, that it almost seems, you are an undercover lover, both beneath the sheets, and between distinguished conversations, regarding such tentative ideals of love and the ambiguity of trust. A terrorist it seems amongst the ranks with a finger on the trigger, with a finger on my lips, and a whisper hush in my ear. It seems i was blind to your type of sweet deception; There are codes i didn't understand, and my mind was melting, from the heat of your touch and the sublime twist of your hips. I can see your eyes ready to deploy a subterfuge of promises, as they look into the distance calculating the logistics, of this moonlight illicit flit of passion; Never did i expect such an eloquent transpose of intentions, Even remarkably as this feels like the Romeo and Juliette of modern times. I am the 'x marks the spot' in no-mans-land it seems, I am the calm after the storm in the aftermath of your expostulation, You, my love, are a sublime soldier in this battlefield we call 'togetherness'. No-one asked you to go to this infernal devastating war; Yet i long for your return from the eternal, internal battle, you fight between your heart and your head.
Continue reading...
26
I’m more afraid of losing you than I am of losing myself To force one to create; To turn the gears of the mind by force of will Ironic; That the source of creativity has become so artificial, Like plastic flowers in an outdoors garden, Not wrong, Not dangerous, Unsettling; One of these things is not like the other. Something is wrong; This is too familiar, I have been here before. Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, Silence is a spirit which haunts me, Hold my tongue, Punching my gut, Every time brave words bloom in my throat, This banshee screams reality in my wind-beaten face. She is subdued by a fraternal bond, a weightless chain, Silence is tamed by the right company, The demon exorcised from my body, I am sanctified in brief lucidity, Clarity, however fleeting still exists, Despite the holes in your brain, The ultimate in body modification. Every ugly duckling is told they’re a swan, So they seek their kind, Unable to set roots, Assured that there is a kindred spirit, You just have to find them. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone, They ugly duckling becomes more shark-like every day, Unable to stop, a flower constantly about to wither, With age comes beauty, The Rhododendron expels an army of stamens, Male in essence, coloured neon pink, ******* objects of desire for the hungry bee, Honey and perfume, Comfort and poison, The children of flowers, Opposing in nature, Twins in function, Sweetening, attracting, saturating, Numbing the tongue, Burning the nose, So sweet I could ***** I want more time and you want more attention, Kind gestures, kind reward, So sweet that I’m sick.
0
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Sweet
I’m more afraid of losing you than I am of losing myself To force one to create; To turn the gears of the mind by force of will Ironic; That the source of creativity has become so artificial, Like plastic flowers in an outdoors garden, Not wrong, Not dangerous, Unsettling; One of these things is not like the other. Something is wrong; This is too familiar, I have been here before. Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, Silence is a spirit which haunts me, Hold my tongue, Punching my gut, Every time brave words bloom in my throat, This banshee screams reality in my wind-beaten face. She is subdued by a fraternal bond, a weightless chain, Silence is tamed by the right company, The demon exorcised from my body, I am sanctified in brief lucidity, Clarity, however fleeting still exists, Despite the holes in your brain, The ultimate in body modification. Every ugly duckling is told they’re a swan, So they seek their kind, Unable to set roots, Assured that there is a kindred spirit, You just have to find them. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone, They ugly duckling becomes more shark-like every day, Unable to stop, a flower constantly about to wither, With age comes beauty, The Rhododendron expels an army of stamens, Male in essence, coloured neon pink, ******* objects of desire for the hungry bee, Honey and perfume, Comfort and poison, The children of flowers, Opposing in nature, Twins in function, Sweetening, attracting, saturating, Numbing the tongue, Burning the nose, So sweet I could ***** I want more time and you want more attention, Kind gestures, kind reward, So sweet that I’m sick.
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50
She brings it to her mouth And slowly lights the tip As she thinks about her life On which she's quickly losing grip You see her life is full of memories That grow more painful every day She expels smoke from her lips And with it floats away With each puff it turns to ash That falls unnoticed to the ground The same as when she screams inside But no one seems to hear a sound
0
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
Cigarette
Awakened to a masquerade of actors on life's stage. With mask in hand, I'm forced to play this part I do not know. The actors are the audience of the facade I play each day. Unsure of how to fill the role, I take the veteran's cue. Untrue to who I really am, the role I play takes over. Though sorrow fills this empty heart, laughter deceives the soul. Insecurity and fear I know; I dare not let them see. Perfection is the script I hold; no flaws will I reveal. As the years wear on and this act plays out, a sense of loss torments me. A need for truth and clarity, youth's honesty eludes me. The day has come, I walk offstage beyond the painted props. The light of truth cuts through the act, deception flees from me. A love so pure and passionate, expels the myths of life. The hands that gently held me close, discard my mask - I'm free. I look back on the tragedy played out before my eyes. Reality's illusions sink in sand's of life's delusions.
0
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
MASQUERADE
Bohemian dichotomies are like winding garden paths, where foxgloves and lupins stand proudly with a rich array of botanical flamboyance. What is the structure of this pervasive uncertainty, where conspiracy is a perpetual construct which is designed to interfere with anthropological cohesion? Consider the presence of a mature apple tree, where doves abide in ornithological matrimony. Let us humbly acknowledge that nature is a powerful beautician, who expels her adversities with gentle ruthlessness. Let us kiss together amidst this romantic pasture of nostalgic permission.
0
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
Flittering Perspectives
That which would not follow you into the night Will not be there in the morning That which will not be there in the morning Will be hard to find in the afternoon And when you’re searching before the sun goes down You’ll stumble on a log You’ll trip and fall into a marshy wetland And you’ll be wet You’ll be consumed by nature Taken into her heart Ripped into shreds You’ll miss her, but she won’t even think of you You’re a part of her in the same way that her breath is Each time she expels you You return to her So why should she worry? You’re in her hands now And she can squeeze you if she wants to When you hold your breath Where does it lead? Where are your feet taking you?
0
Apr 13, 2010
Apr 13, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
Remiss
Soulful, like your voice which winds and wraps itself about my heart, slowing its beat to preserve the moment we’re in. Soulful, like a troubled blues singer who beats out his feelings on his six string and expels his troubles through a tiny silver harmonica. he lets the audience glimpse the infinite road to his unattainable being. Soulful, like the feeling of music so loud it vibrates in your chest. music that shakes your very core and dares you to grasp inspiration. Soulful, further still, like the beauty of humanity as we change and thus, grow upon each other like vines on a house. Soulful, like the strange reason we have transformed the idea of rain to be both wildly romantic and depressing. Soulful, like a river of my own thoughts that tumble over rocks of inhibition and doubt. And soulful, I dare say, like my own pretentious soul.
0
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
...But A Word...
Hot kiss in the cold rain. A steady beat of a pulsing vein. The fearful calm of the never the same. The sweet aftertaste of your whispered name. Two extremes inside one heart. Living in the bewitched twilight of the after dark. Made a little brighter by this perfect counterpart. This perfect flame started by a lover's spark. The relearning of what it means to mean. Finding the greatest things on earth in the in between. It's the transition of real life into a dream. The infusion of love in this neglected bloodstream. The perfect play of light on the perfect pair of eyes. The look of which expels the bitter taste of goodbyes. It's the safety rope for the deepest self dug holes. Shes a harbinger of love, the savior of souls. The North Star, that brightest bit of day. That little feeling inside of you so you never lose your way. A radiant hope in this desperate living death. Every inch of her a place to catch your breath. Made of the stuff of heaven, part blind trust and perfect mixture of both love and lust. It all boils and burns into left with only this... A simple hot kiss, in a cold rain. With love flowing in every vein.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Her
A feeling I've never felt before. I thought I had that feeling before until you entered my soul. I thought it had been taken before and it never was. A feeling I've never felt before. My whole body looses control, my voice box expels as you make me sing... hit high notes, hit low notes. A feeling I've never felt before. After my soul lays in your arms vulnerable. Shocked. A feeling I've never felt before. You helped me loose control. You helped me get lost. A feeling I've never felt before, there's no way no other man could give me that feeling... I thought I have felt that before but you are really my first.
0
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
******** Rain
*Light expels darkness But shadows emerge from light. Always conflicting.*
0
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
II [10W Haiku]
Hands over my ears and my eyes are clenched, there's too much noise. Head on knees and knees to chest, my body wants to absorb itself. I'm surrounded by screaming, and it's my own voice, myself from a time before. "No" More than anything "No." My heartbeat expels all of the air from my lungs, and they won't fill back up But I am still screaming. It's as if snakes are slithering across my bare chest, and my eyelids burn as I lock them tighter. There is no way out of this, but it feels too big to survive. Now along with "No," the voices are screaming "Run." A command that echoes through every cell in my body. Every hair is on end, every nerve is alert. My muscles ache to move, as my heart pours blood through every limb. But I am still frozen, Tangled in a heap of myself on the ground. Since my body has failed me, my mind bears the weight. Speeding through every option, every possible source of control Slamming sharply into blame. Because if this is your fault then I can walk away I can leave you, thinking I'm free from the pain. But this isnt your fault; this isnt you. My fear is my own and leaving wont change that. It's my voice that says you'll leave. Mine whispering that I dont matter. The voice of a terrified child with no control, The erratic and panicked thrashing of a traumatized brain. My thoughts are a symphony of terror and understanding, Fear, and the awareness of it. I want to build connection with this brain inside mine. So I will sit here and listen as she screams. Absorb the bullets of fear and shame, aimed at myself. I will hold space for this neglected part of me. I will honor the part I have always blamed. It isn't her fault, and her truth isnt mine. And although I feel everything, We both deserve peace.
0
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 12:49 AM UTC
Triggered
Hands over my ears and my eyes are clenched, there's too much noise. Head on knees and knees to chest, my body wants to absorb itself. I'm surrounded by screaming, and it's my own voice, myself from a time before. "No" More than anything "No." My heartbeat expels all of the air from my lungs, and they won't fill back up But I am still screaming. It's as if snakes are slithering across my bare chest, and my eyelids burn as I lock them tighter. There is no way out of this, but it feels too big to survive. Now along with "No," the voices are screaming "Run." A command that echoes through every cell in my body. Every hair is on end, every nerve is alert. My muscles ache to move, as my heart pours blood through every limb. But I am still frozen, Tangled in a heap of myself on the ground. Since my body has failed me, my mind bears the weight. Speeding through every option, every possible source of control Slamming sharply into blame. Because if this is your fault then I can walk away I can leave you, thinking I'm free from the pain. But this isnt your fault; this isnt you. My fear is my own and leaving wont change that. It's my voice that says you'll leave. Mine whispering that I dont matter. The voice of a terrified child with no control, The erratic and panicked thrashing of a traumatized brain. My thoughts are a symphony of terror and understanding, Fear, and the awareness of it. I want to build connection with this brain inside mine. So I will sit here and listen as she screams. Absorb the bullets of fear and shame, aimed at myself. I will hold space for this neglected part of me. I will honor the part I have always blamed. It isn't her fault, and her truth isnt mine. And although I feel everything, We both deserve peace.
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36
When will I ever grow up... Says the innocence of the child I want to experience all there is in life And I want to experience it now When will I ever grow up... Says the newly developed teen I've just stepped out childhood Ready to live the life I've dreamed When will I ever grow up... The nineteen year old says They tell me to vote, send me to war Yet still call me a kid When will I ever grow up... Says the twenty something wife Like I saw in my mother At this stage in her life When will I ever grow up... Little did she know her mother said When she was also that twenty something As she gazed at life ahead When will I ever grow up... Asks the forty year old divorcee And will I find someone mature enough To fill my wants and needs When will I ever grow up... I ask myself time and time again I just hope and pray it happens As I'm fast approaching the end When will I ever grow up... Says the old man on his death bed It's got to happen soon As he expels his last dying breath
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Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
When Will I Ever Grow Up
I keep having this recurring dream where you're there and I'm there and we're hiding beneath the sheets because that's the only place the light can't find us. You're brushing up against my face and I can feel your chest contract with mine. I look at you and I know it will be the last but I just hold you And your heart beats against my throat and your breath expels along my skin You're alive and I can feel you and you can feel me too. I look into your eyes and I see the ocean I'm on the beach and she's walking behind me humming sweet songs of adolescent love she's happy. I dive into the waves but this time it's different this time I'm drowning. I'm drowning and she's not there I clench my fists and count to ten but I'm still drowning. I call for you but you never come I'm in church nine years old and the pastor swears I am pure he swears we will be forgiven and I turn to mommy ask if Jesus will forgive daddy for the lipstick on his collar but she doesn't reply. She's in the bath late at night she's crying softly dropping her cigarette in the tub I try to make her smile but she's still crying *Daddy left her for a ***** and she's still crying. It's you again This time you're holding my hand and we're walking, just walking you plant a kiss upon my forehead and we keep walking. But somewhere in this version of my terror I'm still drowning and you're screaming from the surface that I deserve it That I finally know what it feels like to die and you're not going to save me. I wake up in a place that my body knows as hell and your gazing at my corpse I'm chained against a wall. You're crying you're begging for my help but I can't I tug against the steal hanging like anchors from my wrists but I can't move You're bleeding out across the floor again calling my name but I can't save you I awoke to a symphony that reminds me in every filthy way that I have killed you I am reminded of my brother trapped in an unforgiving youth playing spin the bottle but here he is alone kissing the wounded parts of himself in hopes that they will heal I am reminded of my mother and how she still thinks I don't notice the empty pill bottles in the bathroom and she still can't seem to stand straight without daddy by her side I am reminded of my friend and how she gave the broken parts of herself to a boy who didn't give a **** a boy who kissed all the girls that tasted of ***** and had no scars along their writs I am reminded that people leave in every conscious minute of every hour ever lived people leave people leave p e o p l e   l e a v e.
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
geometry
I keep having this recurring dream where you're there and I'm there and we're hiding beneath the sheets because that's the only place the light can't find us. You're brushing up against my face and I can feel your chest contract with mine. I look at you and I know it will be the last but I just hold you And your heart beats against my throat and your breath expels along my skin You're alive and I can feel you and you can feel me too. I look into your eyes and I see the ocean I'm on the beach and she's walking behind me humming sweet songs of adolescent love she's happy. I dive into the waves but this time it's different this time I'm drowning. I'm drowning and she's not there I clench my fists and count to ten but I'm still drowning. I call for you but you never come I'm in church nine years old and the pastor swears I am pure he swears we will be forgiven and I turn to mommy ask if Jesus will forgive daddy for the lipstick on his collar but she doesn't reply. She's in the bath late at night she's crying softly dropping her cigarette in the tub I try to make her smile but she's still crying *Daddy left her for a ***** and she's still crying. It's you again This time you're holding my hand and we're walking, just walking you plant a kiss upon my forehead and we keep walking. But somewhere in this version of my terror I'm still drowning and you're screaming from the surface that I deserve it That I finally know what it feels like to die and you're not going to save me. I wake up in a place that my body knows as hell and your gazing at my corpse I'm chained against a wall. You're crying you're begging for my help but I can't I tug against the steal hanging like anchors from my wrists but I can't move You're bleeding out across the floor again calling my name but I can't save you I awoke to a symphony that reminds me in every filthy way that I have killed you I am reminded of my brother trapped in an unforgiving youth playing spin the bottle but here he is alone kissing the wounded parts of himself in hopes that they will heal I am reminded of my mother and how she still thinks I don't notice the empty pill bottles in the bathroom and she still can't seem to stand straight without daddy by her side I am reminded of my friend and how she gave the broken parts of herself to a boy who didn't give a **** a boy who kissed all the girls that tasted of ***** and had no scars along their writs I am reminded that people leave in every conscious minute of every hour ever lived people leave people leave p e o p l e   l e a v e.
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Being as lonesome as I Expels all thoughts of happiness A darkness looms over me Telling me to give up hope Reality is cruel, but I shall stand tall Combatting the demons Everywhere in sight
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
Darkness In Light
They will fly like a swarm of mosquitos Wishing to feed on life Incinerating, Ash, Moulded In a frozen moment until the breath expels and Cleanses even that in their wake, Biting upon the flesh over The earth, She will not weep with these tears Of a thousand suns. "For those moments will never pass" As those swarms are in a Hive of tempered reality, For if even one is to sting upon soil then "Reality would burn" "For an eternity of  moments" "A new sun would ignite" Time is blinded, Clouds of ash tears rain down. But this tempered hive, Is just that A place of insanity That is locked in its shell "She will never fear the swarm" "As man is never wanting to see the  suns rise" Eclipse the life that means so much too he.
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Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
To Weep A Thousand Suns
I use to see you in the sunlight. Until the sun died, Growing so dim, The earth was forced to dwell, In eternal night. The sky blazed with angry stars. Glittering and glinting with, Malice and envy because they will never rest again. Men would expect to much of them. Making wishes on their fallen, Leaving gaps in the sky open, Hating the sun for being so selfish. The earth becomes, Cold and Ice blue. Frozen. Desolate. A wasteland of hate. And Plants wither and die, Loathing the moon. Chaos expels, Gushing from the wounds. Hurricanes, Oozes from gashes, Tipped and ripped from its roots, Because of the imbalance in the universe. The sun went out like candle light, From the winds that came from your lips As you blew it out with a smile. Leaving the world to die slowly. Setting off wars, Threatening extinction, Causing epidemics, Brewing disasters, And Hunger... Existence relies on your power. But you are to ignorant to see it. Everything revolves around you. Everything suffers because of it too.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
The stars hate you too.