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"impossibilities" poems
<> "And then one day you came back home You were a creature all in rapture You had the key to your soul And you did open that day you came back to the garden The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine And you were a violet colour as you Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden The summer breeze was blowin' on your face Within your violet you treasure your summery words And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden" In the Garden, song by by Van Morrison <> ***This touches me deep in the chest cavity, the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations, a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and accrue, the mood, for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me for I am but steps away from the garden, and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes, with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses, touches, caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying, overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets, for find myself at the intersection, interlocking crossroads where perfect perfection begins and must meet its natural endings thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations, all impossibilities, challenges, see me, begging itinerant muses in the neighborhood to guide my hand, teach me newsome words, mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment, hearing me solicit their Treasure of Summery Words but they won't, excusing themselves, that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised, all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity, time insufficient to learn a new calculus of addition and bid me calm my heaving chest, seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps awaiting away live in this moment live within this poem, revisit it frequent, weep no more, your stilling heart weakened, take fast what is given now, and be contented, your treasury chest is full, overflowing with this summary of summery*** but I am not, cannot… 7:48:am jul 22
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Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
Within your violet, you treasure your summery words...
<> "And then one day you came back home You were a creature all in rapture You had the key to your soul And you did open that day you came back to the garden The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine And you were a violet colour as you Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden The summer breeze was blowin' on your face Within your violet you treasure your summery words And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden" In the Garden, song by by Van Morrison <> ***This touches me deep in the chest cavity, the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations, a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and accrue, the mood, for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me for I am but steps away from the garden, and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes, with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses, touches, caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying, overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets, for find myself at the intersection, interlocking crossroads where perfect perfection begins and must meet its natural endings thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations, all impossibilities, challenges, see me, begging itinerant muses in the neighborhood to guide my hand, teach me newsome words, mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment, hearing me solicit their Treasure of Summery Words but they won't, excusing themselves, that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised, all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity, time insufficient to learn a new calculus of addition and bid me calm my heaving chest, seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps awaiting away live in this moment live within this poem, revisit it frequent, weep no more, your stilling heart weakened, take fast what is given now, and be contented, your treasury chest is full, overflowing with this summary of summery*** but I am not, cannot… 7:48:am jul 22
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64
**I peer at the world And all I see is possible impossibilities fictional realities counterfeit originality impotent functionality locomotive staticity, and rigid elasticity beside Beastie humanity...** *I look at the world and all there's are peaceful wars Less Mores widely locked doors criminal laws a stinking rose and fragrant "choos" I look at the world and sadly I see all those... I even see stepped on toes on sand-less shores...*
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Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 7:35 AM UTC
Silent Eloquence
Lord, all I can offer You is a mustard seed of faith. For I am so full of fear, and doubt, and unbelief. So addicted to walking by what my eyes see, I fail to remember that You are the God of impossibilities. For so many years I've prayed the same prayer, and it seems as though it remains unanswered. Then... I falter. I faint. I lose heart. As what little faith I had, begins to depart. I fall on my knees in desperation before Thee, I cry, "Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!"(Mark 9:24) Then You tenderly speak to my soul and remind me of this: All it takes to move a mountain is a mustard seed of faith. I hold out my hands to You as I pray, "Here is my mustard seed of faith, Lord. Take it, for it is all I can offer Thee. Lord, have mercy, and grant my request. Even though all I have left is a mustard seed of faith."
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Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
Mustard Seed
Another slimy page absorbed by gentle, tender hands Another reality channel infected by impossibilities Another grainy film shaded by green to hide the truth All eyes are glued to these perfections Simple utopias I can never be Her hair, his eyes, their laugh, that smile How disheartening it is for my friends to say one word when the tags on my clothing say another A dent here, a scar there, a bulge elsewhere hips too wide, skin too rough, hair too straight, eyes too red, toes too small, nose too big, scar too dark, skin too light My entire being is stitched together faults So my eyes burn as yours shine I guess it is yet another imperfection But then again, are the blemishes even mine?
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
Complete Inadequacy
No power in the 'verse can stop her, her name is a channel in all directions, it's just an object, it doesn't mean what you think. "Two-by-two, hands of blue." Simon says safe passage is such a slender thread, a watered-down exchange, it streams into the substance of things: objects in space. "Two-by-two, hands of blue." A life of Serenity, it’s not applicable… cold and naked, dipping her feet into a pond of impossibilities —what she sees is seldom what she gets. "Two-by-two, hands of blue." ~
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Dec 23, 2021
Dec 23, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
River Tam
There's so much to gain through pain The struggles bring about an irrevocable strength Although at times we lose our fight Each dawn beckons begging us to rise Courage is the ability to see that so much more could be Regardless of the troubles that elude you to believe in impossibilities Before you start cursing your cares away Remember to look ahead to see what is truly at stake Tomorrow is a new day
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
New Beginnings
Trust your vaulted hallucinations Trust your most ridiculous impossibilities Trust the wild visions that arise from moments of boredom Do not trust the larcenous glares that surround you Do not believe the gravity in the black holes of pupils Trust the improbabilities and they will become realities
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Trust
those sounds you make with air and your voice box, they're all made for me. the words...that's what you call them. when you pen down these words for me, you're knitting my clothes: black thread embroidered on white. always the same always so different. that's how everyone gets to know me: with your name, (always) the right fit like a shoe that goes with every dress I am the soul of all your creations that part of your soul that resides in white I am all that energy that has bled from you I am your soul - your soul is in me I dwell in the blood that sweats through your pores. I am the thrum of havoc in your veins. I am the reason your heart beats. it beats to my name. you're mine. you will never forget me. I am your arrogance I am the reason butterflies flutter I am truth, I am redemption I am lies and smiles and that story you ache to write... I am alive in the human touch that keeps you hurting healing bleeding tumbling in pain agony hate through the impossibilities of your humanity. I give you strength warmth courage tolerance to go on, to keep on living and to keep me alive... I draw life from that weird goofy and frankly whacked out part of your mind that thinks I can talk to you like at this very moment...
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
if poetry could talk to me...
It’s like spreading your arms in hopes of flight – Catching the wind and holding it just right… Every subtle gust grasping your body like a sail, Winning the battle against gravity without fail, Fighting through the impossibilities, the improbable, And entering the realm of weightless freedom - unstoppable… Soaring above the clouds of an orange sky, On passed the day and into the night we fly – From here to the moon and beyond the stars, Floating through the cosmos - leaving the world afar… Gliding passed this adventure like an epic dream, Not bound to conventional rationality, or so it may seem… We find each other dancing amongst the clouds, Circumnavigating the universe like gods, reckless and proud – Revelations of astronomic proportions are manifested… Escalating our feelings, as we now become more invested, An Armageddon of emotion, epically destroying the world; vying, For your love – for my Darling, your love? Well, it’s like flying.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
It's Like Flying
i never thought i would be able to fall in love ever physically or emotionally extreme vulnerability was an absurd concept in my mind but i jumped took a leap of faith into the abyss of impossibilities and free fell right into the safety net created by your arms the tenderness of our fingers intertwined soon became my life vest if these feelings were to suffocate me you would pull me back to the surface and revive me with the purity of your breath i would always be okay because i loved you i love you i still love you. this love that i try so hard to make evaporate into the nothingness never fails to find a way to come pouring back into me you took your full name and engraved it into my soul so there it stays like a ball and chain always reminding me of what could have been
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
to my first love
fiction: the figment of a great writer's imagination. the words, ink on plain paper; feeble in their existence, tell me to be fierce and compassionate. to have something to love, more deeply than any being is capable of; *to try... so that there is something my soul will reside in, which is not me, something I can face a fight to death for...* they are not only books. they are the silent teachings learnt by these authors, living through hardships. they are metaphors, symbols of lessons to be applied in our lives. their passion, their wounds, living inside of their words; they speak to us readers, in their meek mild voices; *to hope, to have faith, to believe in something someone beyond ourselves, to be human in the face of impossibilities, even through difficult dark times, to be humble in the face of success, to ride our dragons into oblivion, to hunt them down and slay them like wolves, to never give up...* *'Winter is coming' 'We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, but battle on.' 'Do or do not. There is no try.' 'A hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as he has the nerve.' 'You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it.' 'If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior.' 'We will not just be another piece in their games.' 'Fear doesn't shut you down. It wakes you up.' 'Old things are better than new things, because they've got stories in them.' 'Not all those who wander are lost.' 'We accept the love we think we deserve.' 'Grief does not change you. It reveals you.' 'This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.*
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
for fiction...
fiction: the figment of a great writer's imagination. the words, ink on plain paper; feeble in their existence, tell me to be fierce and compassionate. to have something to love, more deeply than any being is capable of; *to try... so that there is something my soul will reside in, which is not me, something I can face a fight to death for...* they are not only books. they are the silent teachings learnt by these authors, living through hardships. they are metaphors, symbols of lessons to be applied in our lives. their passion, their wounds, living inside of their words; they speak to us readers, in their meek mild voices; *to hope, to have faith, to believe in something someone beyond ourselves, to be human in the face of impossibilities, even through difficult dark times, to be humble in the face of success, to ride our dragons into oblivion, to hunt them down and slay them like wolves, to never give up...* *'Winter is coming' 'We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, but battle on.' 'Do or do not. There is no try.' 'A hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as he has the nerve.' 'You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it.' 'If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior.' 'We will not just be another piece in their games.' 'Fear doesn't shut you down. It wakes you up.' 'Old things are better than new things, because they've got stories in them.' 'Not all those who wander are lost.' 'We accept the love we think we deserve.' 'Grief does not change you. It reveals you.' 'This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.*
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40
Sleepless and full of wonder I ponder impossibilities The reality is simply wasted time and unfulfilled superiority As I lay staring upon my ceiling I write to give it meaning Though I know I am lacking depth and understanding The beginning lies within the dawn I can only hope to spawn the other side of me Tonight I'm far too gone dreaming of what could be
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 4:57 AM UTC
Hubris Sleep Talking
Do you know what it's like to feel the limits of time against your heart to rest in a fallible place seeing clearly the last grain of sand fall declaring the moment the end of hope to carry out a mission a vision from decisions you refused to make steps you refused to take 'i love you's' you failed to say or even whisper have your eyes ever looked in a mirror and seen such a glare D I S A P P O I N T M E N T from missing an appointment filled with blossoming orange and fuschia gladiolas and even some in full bloom with nectar at their center too saccharine even for a bee's tongue i wanted to taste you. and instead of using my index finger to scoop up your essence i let fear paralyze the progression and it's much deeper than even kryptonite to superman i mean it's more like Christopher Reeve still yet aging not able to go backward only to face what lies ahead Now i'm sleeping left dreaming of all the NOW infinite IMpossibilities my eyes looking out while traveling over the deep sea of self apologies for never trying to even hold your hand Oh how i wish i could flip this hourglass back to when i was 10... and fearless of rejection.
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Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 9:54 AM UTC
PILLAR OF SALT
You are a beautiful person both inside and out And you will go far in life of this I have no doubt And all the people who put you down will one day see That they were so wrong about what they thought you would be So as you begin your journey into adult hood Stay rooted and grounded in God’s precious word Take Jesus with you wherever you might go He will direct your path and show you things you’ve never known So climb the highest mountain, sail the seven seas With you and Jesus, there are no impossibilities You are such a wonderful person and you can do anything Never let anyone tell you differently The Key to Success is Jesus Christ Let him be your leader as you begin your new life Just follow his path, he will show you the way He will magnify his love for you, making you stronger each day.
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 9:41 AM UTC
Choose Wisely
I wonder about the most peculiar things Impossibilities and ludicrousness Like, what if hell was good and heaven was bad? And how the world would be so ugly If no one was just a little bit mad. I fall in love with peculiar people – In books and in movies, but in real life too Like the mad character, Bellatrix Lestrange I find it beautiful how she is So completely deranged. But nobody sees me as peculiar It makes me wonder how much we hide. Hence, the way others think of you is not who you are There is so much they don’t know They’re only judging from afar.
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Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
Judging From Afar
Tell me how to answer the question of how the moon kissed you goodnight of how the stars hugged you to sleep of how the sky touched you for a sweet dream And I am still jealous with the thought of it Show me the way out, of the closed door that you built, of the crossed line in all of the impossibilities, of the unexpectancy that I’ve been expecting Is there any possible way, for me to undo all of these feelings I have for you?
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Uncertainty
***The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, “Keep me in your heart for ever.” The jasmine sighed, “Alas,” and dropped to the ground.*** (237 Stray Birds by Rabindranath Tagore.  Rabindranath Tagore was born in Calcutta, India, on May 7, 1861. He is the author of many poetry collections, including Gitanjali: Song Offerings (Macmillan, 1913), which received the Nobel Prize in Literature. He died on August 7, 1941.) <> Alas some words of note get overlooked, their usage to the wayside, this is life, forever updating its profile Alas! none of us, do not lie, issue this all encompassing sigh, this shaded heart rendering, un cri du coeur this, to remind us: a single warring word, falls wounded, forgotten, telling of impossibilities lost love, a broken conjunction, what was that can never be, what never was and yet not impossible someday Alas! Alas! a single word poem, that answers so many things, and still in its regretting is a niche of untold hopeful perhaps write me a word like that your fame, if that’s all you desire, alas, is assured... Alas!
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 5:41 PM UTC
Alas! (237 Stray Birds by Rabindranath Tagore)
You dot the i's and call yourself modern day romeo coming to sweep me off my feet coming to zap my heart with lightening bolts of awareness awareness of you Yet you never once told me a poem melted my heart with haiku's or moved me with impossibilities Never once has it occurred to you that capulets and montagues don't click because you always had your way you're a modern day romeo full of narcissistic poison melting off your logic revealing every chiseled muscle that you think will make your Juliets melt Oh romeo, romeo where for art thou? Show these modern newbies the ways of articulation the ways of seducing without the flesh the ways of making eyes glow oh romeo, where for art thou for the romance I seek is long forgotten
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May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC
Modern Day Romeo
Who I am to you Is whom I shall be A person of expression Using whit as an insecurity Having words carry my impossibilities An excuse for hopes dreams and miseries I long to be I desire to be What I can never be My identity, of make believe Of which I know everything As me I can be like anything As a poet I can be everything I am the man I've lead you to believe The man who wants everything Who'd rather live in fantasy Where his words are powerful and his soul is clean Forgive me My insanity I am a poet Unwillingly
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
Poet
And I loved you there Lips pouted in rebellion So many leaves to shred So many ghosts to chase The glass doors were closed. And I loved you there As you deciphered numerical impossibilities On another plane of reality Brow furrowed in intimate concentration I averted my eyes from the questions you pondered. And I loved you there Angry fists filled with contempt towards yourself Unable to find the words A mirrored universe between us And you can't get through. And I loved you there My incredible, awestruck son Trapped, forever a child Contemplating the mysteries of life You discovered the truth of this world. An angel's smile struck your lips And I loved you there As you forgot it all.
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May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
I saw you there(autism)
PREAMBLE *in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever cos we’ll know every part of body and brain and mind and we’ll have them all fixed wherever* 1 in the future people will not say 'Ouch!' they will say 'Yum!' cos we’ll have fixed the part in the brain where they feel pain and it’ll all be pleasure but the skin point or tissue point would all have implants for auto-repair 2 in the future people need not go to school cos we’ll have enough good drugs to fix their brains and diamond points in their folds for life-long updates and upgrades; and those Outdates we'll slow humane-terminate 3 in the future people will never feel negative or down cos we’ll know where it comes from and flood it with the juices from the smiley area cos we’ll know where they come from too and we can control brain droughts and mind floods 4 in the future women will not carry babies nor men either; so couples can have *** each strong in desire and like satyrs in performance and all no condoms either and they’ll never conceive cos we’ll have all the combinations ever in frozen silos that we’ll make copulate in infinite possibilities and impossibilities 5 we’ll still have nations though cos the Leaders will be able to choose what brains they want their citizens to have and all engineered in the Nation Babies Pods where all babies will come from so that we will still have China Mind, America Mind, Poland Mind, India Mind, Japanese Mind, Dutch Mind, Polynesia Mind, Utopia Mind, Ideal Mind, Reptile Mind, God Mind and so on… so really you needn't worry; you'll still have personality *so really in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever*
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Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 2:44 AM UTC
my brave new world
PREAMBLE *in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever cos we’ll know every part of body and brain and mind and we’ll have them all fixed wherever* 1 in the future people will not say 'Ouch!' they will say 'Yum!' cos we’ll have fixed the part in the brain where they feel pain and it’ll all be pleasure but the skin point or tissue point would all have implants for auto-repair 2 in the future people need not go to school cos we’ll have enough good drugs to fix their brains and diamond points in their folds for life-long updates and upgrades; and those Outdates we'll slow humane-terminate 3 in the future people will never feel negative or down cos we’ll know where it comes from and flood it with the juices from the smiley area cos we’ll know where they come from too and we can control brain droughts and mind floods 4 in the future women will not carry babies nor men either; so couples can have *** each strong in desire and like satyrs in performance and all no condoms either and they’ll never conceive cos we’ll have all the combinations ever in frozen silos that we’ll make copulate in infinite possibilities and impossibilities 5 we’ll still have nations though cos the Leaders will be able to choose what brains they want their citizens to have and all engineered in the Nation Babies Pods where all babies will come from so that we will still have China Mind, America Mind, Poland Mind, India Mind, Japanese Mind, Dutch Mind, Polynesia Mind, Utopia Mind, Ideal Mind, Reptile Mind, God Mind and so on… so really you needn't worry; you'll still have personality *so really in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever*
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71
February a baleful month dabbed with deep darkness, the calendar's mortuary nature's own Gulag. Its window opens upon possible impossibilities none of which yield joy. Crows plummet murderously from the heavens vainly trying to flee into spring but merely splat. Roads are crushed beneath a carpet of **** Frosted blimps soar naked. Boots refuse to stay tied. Your parent's nightmares freeze your sweaty sleep. Snow falls like dead swans. Eclairs crystallize into lumps too solid to enjoy. A month of undeserved solitary confinement that trembles the soul. A deep achromatic terror keening coldness in a huge white wail penetrating the ears until march stops the madness and hope blossoms as crocuses, apricity achieved, small phosphorescent dots of desire.   ~mce
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
Aeromancy
he lifted my shirt as his cool touch buried me beneath a lover a lover, i must gravitate towards serenity and sensual acts acts, messy yet innocent; reeling me in for more more, i want more, i crave what i bound to give i give him, something for no returns impossibilities have peaked, clean and unforgiving.
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Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC
virginity
~ i once swore that i would never pray again. when i painfully stripped myself of faith all those years ago, i took an oath that I would only treat the expanse of the universe as nothing but barren space. but now, i've lost you, and i have come to resent this belief. or, rather, my lack thereof. do not misunderstand me. i do not wish to go back to the life where I had to offer each step i take to a supposed almighty man -- a man who, with all his power and greatness, allowed me to be loved so poorly in the past. but now, i've lost you, and i spend each waking moment staring at the empty space beside me. this bed used to be an altar where i could lay my flesh and bones and you would treat me like the holy grail itself. now, the emptiness stares right back with its mocking eyes, harshly rubbing salt into the open wound that sits on my heart. there is nothing there anymore, yet so much lingers. now, a part of my soul is hollow. when there was you, i sent a piece of my heart on a journey across the sea without knowing if i would ever get it back. i did it simply because i submitted to this love in its entirety. with all the kilometers of land and water it stretched over, all of the sacrifices it demanded, all of its impossibilities -- i revered it blindly. but now, i've lost you, and yet again, i am stripped of faith. this time, however, i was robbed. i did not wish for this to happen. now, there is a piece of my heart that wanders through places i will never know. there is nothing more for me to do but desperately send out silent screams into the void like prayers, hoping that my words echo through the desolate universe and across our great divide — even if, by the time they reach you, they arrive in mere whispers. if you can hear me, i am still here. and i can feel you out there. please hold that piece of my heart as an offering, and carry it with you until we meet once more, at the edge of eternity. thank you for reminding me what devotion feels like.
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May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 2:52 PM UTC
On Distance, and You
~ i once swore that i would never pray again. when i painfully stripped myself of faith all those years ago, i took an oath that I would only treat the expanse of the universe as nothing but barren space. but now, i've lost you, and i have come to resent this belief. or, rather, my lack thereof. do not misunderstand me. i do not wish to go back to the life where I had to offer each step i take to a supposed almighty man -- a man who, with all his power and greatness, allowed me to be loved so poorly in the past. but now, i've lost you, and i spend each waking moment staring at the empty space beside me. this bed used to be an altar where i could lay my flesh and bones and you would treat me like the holy grail itself. now, the emptiness stares right back with its mocking eyes, harshly rubbing salt into the open wound that sits on my heart. there is nothing there anymore, yet so much lingers. now, a part of my soul is hollow. when there was you, i sent a piece of my heart on a journey across the sea without knowing if i would ever get it back. i did it simply because i submitted to this love in its entirety. with all the kilometers of land and water it stretched over, all of the sacrifices it demanded, all of its impossibilities -- i revered it blindly. but now, i've lost you, and yet again, i am stripped of faith. this time, however, i was robbed. i did not wish for this to happen. now, there is a piece of my heart that wanders through places i will never know. there is nothing more for me to do but desperately send out silent screams into the void like prayers, hoping that my words echo through the desolate universe and across our great divide — even if, by the time they reach you, they arrive in mere whispers. if you can hear me, i am still here. and i can feel you out there. please hold that piece of my heart as an offering, and carry it with you until we meet once more, at the edge of eternity. thank you for reminding me what devotion feels like.
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70
K-kinetic love I-Impossibilities to reach S-Secrets S-Secrets upon whom I love. Nobody.
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Jan 16, 2011
Jan 16, 2011 at 10:42 AM UTC
Kiss