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"infront" poems
I stumbled upon you Like a child that finds a pretty stone Bewildered by your presence I sat and admired Counting your cracks Caressing what makes you glitter You stood infront of me Bold and beautiful Like nothing I'd ever seen And as you gave me your attention I think I misconstrued your intentions I wanted to put you in my pocket But you said no So there you sit Perfectly unpolished A love I can only visit
0
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
Like a child
With both of us standing Infront of the guillotine, Why did you take her Instead of me? I'm trying to find the reason. Why did I deserve to live? What kept me here And took her away? I'm not even close To deserving half a life. But she did nothing wrong, Still she's the one you took. Maybe it's survivors guilt, And maybe i'm being stupid. But I don't understand, Why God would take a soul like hers And leave me to live.
0
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
Survivor's Guilt
Meticulous and true. They are so careful. So skilled. Deftly and with a swift and sure hand, the words,     Oh the words, they flow like a brooke. The one in the forest, you know the one. The one out there, out far. In the deep of the wood, over root, under canopy. Through the branches you have to look real hard. And the hard part is not knowing at all what youre looking for. And then there,     After an eternity and in an instant it is there infront of you. What you have been looking for. A vast clearing. Wide and open. The sun glints through the salt-and-peppered leaf roof. It crawls and stretches and lightly caresses everything you lay your eyes upon. Even matte mossy rocks, they seem to shine. You look down and it caresses you as well. Gentle and warm the embrace that you cant quite put your finger on. The location. The origin. It is everywhere, it surrounds you. Close your eyes. Embrace the sun back. But i digress my digression. The brook. It flows over, around, through. There is no stopping the water. It is relentless, it WILL get to its destination. You cannot change its mind. It is immovable. That is what it is. It is beauty. I know i should not compare. There is beauty in it all. But, goodness, the feelings invoked when reading others' poetry in admiration.
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
in admiration.
i told the girls at work about time spent with jane. they seemed awfully excited for me. maybe they could smell that jane is new, but familiar like a car bought used. she is barely driven though. i still drive over the skids i left from trying to stop too quick. you can see my tread worn out like sanded wood. or maybe they could smell the hope like dew on the morning grass. fresh but dangerous. waiting to trip me with my eyes set ahead but not infront. theyll leave the wire right where they got me the last time. it would be an honor to be fooled by something so sweet to the touch. it almost feels alien to not be so upset by the way the weather dictates my evenings. i do not FEEL like i used to. my love and guilt helix and weave like code. i would only kiss you now, if it brought back the one i poisoned. i live in a farm upstate now like a dead house dog. if ive really moved on know that i did the impossible we'll be better off for it. and if things never work out with jane, you best pray someone loves me when im dead cause they sure as hell dont love me now.
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
nectarine // an ode to new love and a potential farewell to an old one
he interrupted me in the middle of an earth shatteringly pointless story to tell me i had a cute laugh, in a smoke-filled garage infront of all of our friends. i said, *"alright dude **** off"* that night i slept in the fetal position with four blankets and craved his skin so bad i didn't even notice that i bit my lip until the pool of blood collecting inside the deep ditch of my gums, began to taste of hot metal today he texted me while i was at work and asked if he could bring me a coffee i looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, sighed and told him we were busy then i bought a coffee for myself, let the bitter sweet warm liquid linger on my tongue and pretended it was his lips alone is a state of being and i have never been alone, lonely is a state of mind and i have never been anything but
0
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
eternity
. . . I have been seeking a new kingdom to call home and your heart, like a castle hides behind great walls, where both the strong and weak share embarassing flaws. Unlike just any castle, yours is not on top of a great hill, nor in the midist of a forest beyond where the waters chill, its right infront of everyones face who decides to pay attention, funny that many by pass it because they never seek it, but are ever seeking attention. Unlike in fairytales, its guarded by pride, humbleness, care and a huge ego, it rages against anyone who tries to love and care for it, but when it loves back, it never lets go. Like any castle out there, forcing yourself in will hurt both you and those in it, the hours you'll take destroying can not be compared to the years you'll take rebuilding it. So I made up my mind to stand at the gates of these great walls, perfectly built brick for brick, to proclaim my honour and loyalty for you,to make a promise and stick to it, because I would rather help you guard it, than play pirate to break down your walls. So Knight me your majesty, as I report for duty to guard and protect everything that lays behind your great walls. . . . . . let me make it my new home. . .
0
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
A Knight Without A Castle
A D C B B B Be correct please... I cant stand these tests Desighned to determine the worth of our mind. Dont mind me im just suisidal because i got a C, plus these desks lined infront of me, im my three hour exam that took me two and a half hours of writting i took the rest of my time to count the isles, 35 then i took some time to count how many were lined in front of me 31, and with me thats 1120 desks filled with students so stressed you could cut their hope with a single breath. Now this horror scene has no bars but the crippiling debt deffinitly imprisons us. Its funny that a gymnasium can be turned to a slaughter house, maybe even a gas chamber killing hope by the masses leaving thoasands behind because they allready got their check.
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
exam
He de-seeded himself into three pieces and proceeded to grow a tree of decieving, you see. One seed of the tree was greed, so all it would breed was to feed our needs. Once we used up all its weeds we decided to dig deep to see what this tree was hiding. There it was, all along infront of our eyelids. The roots of this tree grew in all directions endlessly. How could this be? One seed for greed, one seed for achieving infinity..? And for the third, I (eye) tried to see through the mystery of the last seed I collected all the ingredients to cook up the last grand meal. Stirring it I caught a quick wiff of its essence and for a mere second I felt free, I acknowledged the knowledge of being me. My brain was introduced to DMT and I also knew the signifigance of the truth, now I knew what I had to do. Convinced of the truth but I still follow all your rules, im not insane I wouldnt go blow up a school but I swear, latley my brain been telling me, only options I have is to accept my destiny or change it by a killing spree. I know you are testing me but how am I supposed to enjoy this beautiful scenery if I cant even get this stress of my chest so I can rest again peacefully. I knew I owe my soul to this tree for the knowledge its giving me. I try to hold on to my memories but as its leaves they fall eventually... It kills me everyday, living, knowing its not for me.. not for me...
0
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Ignorance is bliss
He must really love her body how could he not? unlike mine's , hers is wonderland Those thigh gap of hers is more than my Finger's gaps This chubby cheeks of mine fails badly infront of her *** this little height,fat filled inside I'm not even good for a sight To everyone's"how are you?" question I reply " I am fat,alright?" I know there's nothing wrong with me thats just a fat inside This fat loves my body so much so how can I hide? it might feel bad so I console myself,its alright I mean, I can live without thigh gap & height those stomach in and *** out is compromised I am better person inside hahaha I am kidding I must be really high seriously, I need that slim body outside.
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Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Fatness is a *****
My bestfriend wanted to **** himself last night. Drunk as **** he called me. Crying his eyes out as he rants. Talking about wanting to die. Begging I pleaded for him not to. Yet he had no care for what I said. Telling me he wanted to feel what it was like to cut. Leaving his phone to go find a razor. I ran the five minute walk to his house. Rushing in, he throws the blade in shock. Then fights me as I try to keep him from going and finding it. Fights me as I try to stop him from getting another one. Crying I beg him to stop cutting. Beg him to stop as he slits his wrists open infront of me. It was as though he had no care for me. As though I was some stranger standing in his way of happiness. He was a different person entirely. Calling the only mom I trust. She rushes over and we force him to get up and leave. We were able to stop him. Get him to talk. Yet. He is still so distance. So different. I'm scared to death... Scared that I'm on the verge of losing my bestfriend. The guy who got me sober. Who has stopped me from cutting and more, countless times. I can't survive without him. I can't help but pray with everything in me. That he will be okay. That he will make it through. I love him too much to lose him. He's my bestfriend. I'm scared to leave him alone. I'm scared to overcrowd him. I just want him safe. I don't know how to feel about all of this. I'm scared out of my mind.
0
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
Scared for My Bestfriend
Flipping threw my old yearbook I see girls who were once gorgeous tooken my the devils hand pregnant and life beaten now horrendous I remember seeing them with there cheerleading outfits on As I sat in a corner by myself I here them laughing and chatting about going to tonys house after school I remember tony strong handsome captain of the highschool world I saw him two weeks ago With his hands covering his face And a shot next to him 3 empty beers infront He really let himself go I remember thinking fat and forgotten about still clinging to that highschool dream I remember him saying I was a loser as he flipped my lunch tray and humiliated me by reading my little notebook of writes I remember saying to him one day ill have the last laugh one day ill see you down and out and you'll ask me for a handout going back to the bar I sit down A couple stools down to see if he recognised me He finished his 3 beers as I finished my long island ice tee he said to the bar tender I gotta *** be right back I followed him to the restroom and we were a ****** apart I looked over and seen his small patheic ***** as I looked at my ***** I laughed and I laughed and I laughed looked over at tony and said see sir I did get the last laugh and I left I hope he knows me now I hope he knows me now
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
highschool run in
123... I hug you then you hug me we go our separate ways like the red sea. 123... You call my phone already feeling alone, I send you to voicemail leave a message at the tone. 123... Theirs tears on my pillows aswell as my sheets, just wishing if oneday again we can meet. 123... A few months go by I hear a knock on my door, wondering if it's you coming back for more. 123... I'm taken by surprise, it's you standing infront of me wiping the tears from my eyes. 123... I can't live without you and you can't live without me, this is our 123 game of uncertainty.                                   I Love You Tho
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
123... Game
Please tell me whats goin on. Help me understand what went wrong. I badly need a full proof explanation. Look at whats happening to the nation. Is this the best that the government can do? People always dying infront of me and you. Poor families still burried in the mud. In position still are the ones making the country look bad. Nobody hears the cry of millions. Every leader only attends to themselves and takes no action. Sixteen presidents that didnt have eyes to see the real situation.
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Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
PHILIPPINES
**** happens, everytime you walk infront of me. How did you do this? like my heart wanted to be free. You look at me, like i'm just a no one. but for me, I think you're the one. Everytime, i hear you laugh. **** I just can't get enough. Please, Stop smiling. Cause, I don't wanna see myself dying. Dying, because i'm crazy. Crazy, because i'm falling for you hardly.
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
The Unknown
the road home wound and swirled like a coil the music on the radio tuned out like white-noise and the sun had set to a point where everything lit up in red a crimson so deep it stained the trees, the grass the tall towering buildings, the calm suburban neighbourhoods the cracked pavements, the dark alleyways the glass shop windows, the exposed brick of an abandoned structure the glossy sides of the cars that drove infront of us, the concrete we drove on the faux leather seats, the metal of the adjustable headrest the tips of my hair, the tips of my fingernails my skin, and all of the things that sat with me in silence i close my eyes and i feel.
0
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 1:25 AM UTC
golden hour
I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole. My shorts were short my ******* were wet my sweet little cherry had yet to be popped. Your intentions filled the room as I admired the spit drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch. As you kissed me down my neck and your manhood grew harder, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings. You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again. Do you see what you have done to me? Was each stroke of stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ****** sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since? I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has consent. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with your *** At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.
0
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
****
I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole. My shorts were short my ******* were wet my sweet little cherry had yet to be popped. Your intentions filled the room as I admired the spit drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch. As you kissed me down my neck and your manhood grew harder, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings. You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again. Do you see what you have done to me? Was each stroke of stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ****** sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since? I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has consent. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with your *** At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.
Continue reading...
10
When I first saw her, she was like an enemy infront of my eyes, As I kept growing in her presence and understanding her,she became my obsession, For I grew old in love and young in hatred, For she became my source of life, Like the freshness of the ocean she purely remained in my thoughts, For I without her I am purely dehydrated, For at night she becomes my own vission and at daylight she becomes my ambition, For she became my need of life and love, For she is truely my determination of love..
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
My obsession...
I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole. Your intentions filled the room as I watched the drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch. As you kissed me down my neck, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings. You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again. Do you see what you have done to me? Was that temporary pleasure from my little 13 year old body worth the pain I face today? Was that stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ****** sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since? I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has conscient. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with this filth. At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.
0
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
Coming clean. Story of my ****
I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole. Your intentions filled the room as I watched the drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch. As you kissed me down my neck, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings. You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again. Do you see what you have done to me? Was that temporary pleasure from my little 13 year old body worth the pain I face today? Was that stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ****** sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since? I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has conscient. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with this filth. At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.
Continue reading...
7
She owns a castle Feeble as glass crumbling walls to repel the past. As the roots creeps higher onto the castle walls Years passed and no one danced the waltz Medieval old music keeps playing She was abandoned, lost and dying. she was an unsaved princess left alone all her sadness never known *a dainty flower meant to wither* She stared afar Eyes locked on a nearby tower yet she seemed distant Vowed never to speak of love again she was silent all these years... *she was empty, alone, forgotten Just like her castle* She sits atop the velvet chair Stood up at the veranda on the cliff Pain was all hers to keep what could've happen if she'd just leap She owns a magnificent ocean of glistening tears You'll hear her screams blend with the roaring waves On sleepless nights she wanders The great garden The ambiance of melachonly The field of haze seems to widen A ruler to all the shadows casted A subject to her desires neglected The doors are shut Countless barricades will bombard you Before you could walk up to the bridge So brace yourself and your white horse She wont let you get to her Silly..silly..kinglet She waited, Oh how many years has it been. Kneel infront Of the lonely queen.
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
The Lonely Queen
She lived deep in the forest, in a tiny little cottage, she sold little hearbal remedies, ****** mary, ****** mary. For she was kinda weird, for she was called a witch, none dared to go to her house, ****** mary, ****** mary. She was accused for drying cows, and for rotting stored food, when children cought a cold, ****** mary, ****** mary. Little girls in a village, began to disappear, one by one they all went, ****** mary, ****** mary. No one found, wheere the children went, they simply just vanished, ****** mary, ****** mary. A few brave souls, went to the cottage, to see what they could find, ****** mary, ****** mary. Denied she told, to those brave souls, she now looked attractive, ****** mary, ****** mary. Then came a night, where a little girl, walked away at night, ****** mary, ****** mary. Her mother screamed, her father worried, but she kept on walking, ****** mary, ****** mary. The townsmen saw, a glowing light, coming from the woods, ****** mary, ****** mary. Then they say, behind a tree, standing the unseen, ****** mary, ****** mary. It was mary, being scary, pointing at the girls house, ****** mary, ****** mary. They shot, and stabbed, upon mary, ****** mary, ****** mary. Mr miller shot her, whith a silver bullet, in the hip, ****** mary, ****** mary. the townsfolk grabed her, and burned her, at the stake, ****** mary, ****** mary. But as she died, she scramed a curse, at those who say her name, ****** mary, ****** mary. She said if you, say her name three times, infront of a mirror, ****** mary, ****** mary. You will die, if you say those, ****** mary, ****** mary, ****** mary.
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
****** Mary.
She lived deep in the forest, in a tiny little cottage, she sold little hearbal remedies, ****** mary, ****** mary. For she was kinda weird, for she was called a witch, none dared to go to her house, ****** mary, ****** mary. She was accused for drying cows, and for rotting stored food, when children cought a cold, ****** mary, ****** mary. Little girls in a village, began to disappear, one by one they all went, ****** mary, ****** mary. No one found, wheere the children went, they simply just vanished, ****** mary, ****** mary. A few brave souls, went to the cottage, to see what they could find, ****** mary, ****** mary. Denied she told, to those brave souls, she now looked attractive, ****** mary, ****** mary. Then came a night, where a little girl, walked away at night, ****** mary, ****** mary. Her mother screamed, her father worried, but she kept on walking, ****** mary, ****** mary. The townsmen saw, a glowing light, coming from the woods, ****** mary, ****** mary. Then they say, behind a tree, standing the unseen, ****** mary, ****** mary. It was mary, being scary, pointing at the girls house, ****** mary, ****** mary. They shot, and stabbed, upon mary, ****** mary, ****** mary. Mr miller shot her, whith a silver bullet, in the hip, ****** mary, ****** mary. the townsfolk grabed her, and burned her, at the stake, ****** mary, ****** mary. But as she died, she scramed a curse, at those who say her name, ****** mary, ****** mary. She said if you, say her name three times, infront of a mirror, ****** mary, ****** mary. You will die, if you say those, ****** mary, ****** mary, ****** mary.
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90
There is noone above me Beside me Infront of me I am my own anarchy My inner soul of Wisdom for that I have lived For long and Suffered twice as much I wandered through the Gazing abyss, Flashlights of every submarine I swim with my inner coward The color of your eyes Has been withdrawed In the arms of sleep on a Moonless night. On a Windy day Thunderstorm took me away.
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 9:24 AM UTC
flashlights of annihilation
No one's perfect, a truth that's always told But goal and motivation is his stepping stone Short term and lifelong sets made him so mold Now he's infront of the crowd, sharing his story alone Giving inspiration to maidens and lad Showing the angle of sociology that life is fair Life is unfair to him, life is unfair to her so don't be too sad You're not the only one who has a problem to bare He also pointed out inequality and discrimination How it blocks the bridge for other races How it removes peace and harmony to His creation And gives them lesson on how to live with other faces Demonstrating how to nurture the plants Striking to everyone the beauty of every tree Realizing that nature is best and independent It could survive without us humans who's killing it continuously Encouraging them to go out of the world Stepping out of the front door of their comfort zone Letting them know the lenses and view of words Giving them the experiences that the society can provide like what's in Dale's cone
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
My one Educator
there's a hard silence here and there is a fresh echo of the dim kitchen light in the ***** linoleum tiles that zigzag the floor even the air feels broken as it limps slowly through the room i stop near the door upon entering and gather myself like a ragman gathering the tattered remains stitching the fragments of self with the thread of awareness weave the image of self into the reality of the moment with the hesitations of someone who has lived this moment too many times' it will come to naught she is alive but her heart is dead the dust on my worn coat is from the graves of my fallow field where we once laid a crop of hopes but i cannot abandon her to this barren place i know i perceive only the narrow sunstricken pages faded and stained with the words legible only to the hardy eye but its the deeper tale which even the gardener of times bloodstained trophy's would fear to tread his leather shod hands worry the intricate gears of the mechanical face she wears he manipulates it to wear a lopsided grin pantomime of happiness for my birthday but i watch the vacant places behind the face and see that with a blemished mechanical eye she looks out over the oncoming evening through the livingroom window its cracked and ***** surface turns the setting sun into a parody of dawn she greets me but just stares out the window as if she is waiting a lovers return i stand infront of her blankly we wait for the hours to pass i fix her tea even though it isn't broken and make small talk as she makes mechanical sounds till she sleeps i leave with the dawn and make my way to my own bed at last to fend off dreams that something somewhere could be different and wake to the sorrowful song of a passing bard his thin feet dancing on a moonlight hilltop meant for lovers only and he is dancing alone alone
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
the mechanical face she wears
there's a hard silence here and there is a fresh echo of the dim kitchen light in the ***** linoleum tiles that zigzag the floor even the air feels broken as it limps slowly through the room i stop near the door upon entering and gather myself like a ragman gathering the tattered remains stitching the fragments of self with the thread of awareness weave the image of self into the reality of the moment with the hesitations of someone who has lived this moment too many times' it will come to naught she is alive but her heart is dead the dust on my worn coat is from the graves of my fallow field where we once laid a crop of hopes but i cannot abandon her to this barren place i know i perceive only the narrow sunstricken pages faded and stained with the words legible only to the hardy eye but its the deeper tale which even the gardener of times bloodstained trophy's would fear to tread his leather shod hands worry the intricate gears of the mechanical face she wears he manipulates it to wear a lopsided grin pantomime of happiness for my birthday but i watch the vacant places behind the face and see that with a blemished mechanical eye she looks out over the oncoming evening through the livingroom window its cracked and ***** surface turns the setting sun into a parody of dawn she greets me but just stares out the window as if she is waiting a lovers return i stand infront of her blankly we wait for the hours to pass i fix her tea even though it isn't broken and make small talk as she makes mechanical sounds till she sleeps i leave with the dawn and make my way to my own bed at last to fend off dreams that something somewhere could be different and wake to the sorrowful song of a passing bard his thin feet dancing on a moonlight hilltop meant for lovers only and he is dancing alone alone
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