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"jumpstart" poems
Odes to Coffee, a Haiku, a Limerick, and a Verse Coffee, Coffee Nod Coffee, Coffee, Coffee Yawn One cup down, talk now Coffee, coffee, coffee Coffee, Coffee, coffee Everyone shut up Please refill my cup Coffee, Coffee, Coffee Coffee, Coffee yay Coffee, Coffee hey Let me take a drink to jumpstart my day Off to work we go to earn some needed pay Be a real man and drink it black Or make it all fancy and catch some flack
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Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
Odes to Coffee, a Haiku, a Limerick, and a Verse
~commissioned accidentally by a melody, a passing glance, a purring perchance, an idle innocent comment, to be born as the first poem of this day, @7:00am Tue Sep 18 2025, writ in haste, before departing over many islands to another place called "home"~ ---~<>~--- *sometimes, not so secret, anon, ^ sometimes, so much more, than that but a glancing of favoring, a handshake secreted, is actually felt, actually secreted, and rare though via~able, it passes through a longing traveled voyage, over wire, under sea's cabling, through space, hoisted from & by satellite over continental divides just a hop, skip and jumpstart over this tiny planet, and though, but, an amorphous 👍 thumb, a colored 💙 or collared,   or a pointing 🫵 body part the like, bears more than just a passing resemblance to another* f o u r   l e t t er   w o r d its often lost & found dear cuz ^^ full of meanings hidden, or even anon, "I'll be there shortly"^                                                          magic!                                                                                                                                                                           nml
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 7:33 AM UTC
Following up on an anonymous 'like' (1)
you are the aftertaste of coffee. after the jumpstart, the palpitation, here you are, sadly bittersweet. you are the persisting vision of a falling star. its trail of light remain before me even after it’s long been gone. i’ve tried to catch it with my feeble hands, only to grasp nothingness. you are the aftermath of an earthquake, of which i found myself at its epicenter. even after rebuilding, i found that nothing is as it was. you are the tune that keeps playing over and over again inside my head. i’ve being lss-ing over your memories, singing a song i’m not sure if i’ll ever hear again. you are an aftertaste, a persisting vision, an aftermath, an lss that i wrap around myself, holding me together, keeping me from falling apart. for j.e. 100314
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
melancholy
1. I feel fractured splintered defeated entirely insular and spread to thin all at the same time covered with insecurities like a cheap suit or hollow exoskeleton nothing more than a lie. I grow tired. I'm bluffing my way through this life a brutal honesty I lack the courage to accept hiding my face from every mirrored surface a halfhearted attempt to prolong this detrimental denial. I can't ******** my way through self-reflection and trying to improve my image feels positively improvised. I lack sincerity and authenticity an individual breathing without zeal I need a break. 2. Here I am again a lonely itinerant migrating to the proverbial and often visited crossroads rather than contemplating a direction worth navigating be it following in the worn footprints of others or a path long overgrown with neglect. I'd rather lie down on the gravel road and nap in the open air just to wake up confused and temperamental. The destination remains unknown my indecision remains intact. I give impetuous a bad name by reputation and repetition alike conjoined twins that speaks to fate and circumstance. Like Houdini I'm secured in a long sleeve shirt dangling upside down from a burning rope placing blame on the flame. I need a break. 3. I'm not as intelligent or insightful as I once thought my wasted youth is a testament. A modern ruin like so many a Blockbuster I've outlasted my usefulness. I imagine what could have been clueless as to what lies ahead. A jovial repentance seems as likely as success, or stability, **** simplicity. Is it all too much to ask? I've been on break too long. 4. reboot jumpstart Alleviate my stagnant, vacant lot in life and cast off these first world problems. Consider not the flat champagne or the distance that separates today from death. Speak positively to the people that would not otherwise attract minimal attention. Set goals both grand and plausible with no worry of dividends and release cynicism and determine a trajectory that I may see through to completion. If for no other reason but to say that I tried. It's not so bad this imagined and dire circumstance. Relax and go on break.
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
a letter to my once and future self (verascimititional lies I've told)
1. I feel fractured splintered defeated entirely insular and spread to thin all at the same time covered with insecurities like a cheap suit or hollow exoskeleton nothing more than a lie. I grow tired. I'm bluffing my way through this life a brutal honesty I lack the courage to accept hiding my face from every mirrored surface a halfhearted attempt to prolong this detrimental denial. I can't ******** my way through self-reflection and trying to improve my image feels positively improvised. I lack sincerity and authenticity an individual breathing without zeal I need a break. 2. Here I am again a lonely itinerant migrating to the proverbial and often visited crossroads rather than contemplating a direction worth navigating be it following in the worn footprints of others or a path long overgrown with neglect. I'd rather lie down on the gravel road and nap in the open air just to wake up confused and temperamental. The destination remains unknown my indecision remains intact. I give impetuous a bad name by reputation and repetition alike conjoined twins that speaks to fate and circumstance. Like Houdini I'm secured in a long sleeve shirt dangling upside down from a burning rope placing blame on the flame. I need a break. 3. I'm not as intelligent or insightful as I once thought my wasted youth is a testament. A modern ruin like so many a Blockbuster I've outlasted my usefulness. I imagine what could have been clueless as to what lies ahead. A jovial repentance seems as likely as success, or stability, **** simplicity. Is it all too much to ask? I've been on break too long. 4. reboot jumpstart Alleviate my stagnant, vacant lot in life and cast off these first world problems. Consider not the flat champagne or the distance that separates today from death. Speak positively to the people that would not otherwise attract minimal attention. Set goals both grand and plausible with no worry of dividends and release cynicism and determine a trajectory that I may see through to completion. If for no other reason but to say that I tried. It's not so bad this imagined and dire circumstance. Relax and go on break.
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77
every night I go to bed and say “just don’t” every night I lay awake and say “just don’t” because two negatives make a positive right? and maybe if I think about us long and hard enough I can jumpstart my water circus and finally ******* cry for once but god **** birdie god **** this is supposed to be a friendship poem filled with all the good things about us and I turned it into me I turned it ugly again but you sister are beautiful
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
stanza 4
every day I don't pretend it's not happening every bruise I'll never hide again every eardrum not slit shrill venomous psychward razors every day not backed into a corner not choked every time I don't wonder if I'll come to again as limbs go limp fading conscious into black every chance for my greatest gift not to end up like my biggest mistake every time he greets the family he'd never known every day I awake to possibility reunited family rekindled friendships every reclaimed moment every shot at bliss every joytear is because of you daring to flirt inside messy, imperfect lines catalyzing jumpstart to the rest of this precious life no matter what happens wherever you go whatever you choose I'll always see some cape creeping out from under your blackflak collar
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
every
Just wait Laughter That presence within your catharsis Jezebel Jumpstart your Heartache Liberation Fabricated Materialization J... J…J…J… Just wait. Time will tell when William Tell will attempt to shoot an arrow through your heart. If he misses, you are doomed to a life of solitude and faithless trysts trust is a hit-or-miss. If it pierces through, you are condemned to a life attached like a leech to some being whose too tight embraces take your breath away. Wait….just… Listen. The wind is blowing sweeping you off your feet. You’re head-over-heals in over your head falling into a pit of broken promises. Only to rake them up again. Just w….why? Realizations that ****** should be punished even if its metaphorical. For hearts can die and are just as hard to resurrect as burning stakes which were once ***** Wait…. all hope is not lost for loss cannot be everlasting unless… Bill’s arrow was tipped with what is never blessed that which makes all mortals quell. But one can never know in certainty until that day occurs Just witness…. til then dear friend my sustainer of life I’ll feed you elixirs to save you from bleeding out your memories. For sewing you up, is merely temporary. I’ll force-feed you vitamin D until you agree to be blissful again and I’ll be able to tell when your artificial smile dresses your sorrows in brighter colors. Justice wades in deeper waters but once you reach it it’s worth all the effort in the world.
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Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 5:37 PM UTC
Just Wait (a slam poem)
fifteen before twelve, Memories have been flashbacked, rejoiced the scenes, while laid flat at the canvass taking some caffeine, with a snake printed bottle. Disgusted by thoughts, hurt and puzzled. Silence drove this cold blooded evening, Why's have been circled, without an answer sprinkled without a company, alone disoriented sensed, questions you can't blur, nor satisfy one's self even. and it ***** to know the truth, that whispers are here to stay, can't even jumpstart, and establish your play. Fifteen after twelve, I found my self still, coming back in her arms, with fresh wounds healed.
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May 29, 2011
May 29, 2011 at 8:25 AM UTC
Fifteen before twelve
The turning dials of that old car radio, Metallic, as the rubber coverings fell off. What had once protected, lost by the twisting of that radio's lifespan. In a car, old as it's manufacturers who are all dead, Her strength is still strong on this long journey to the bigger city. I fiddle through that plastic box of old cassette tapes. My finger picking out a title to fill the radio's mouth. To fill it up with so much music; that it's old speakers ***** out noise. Choking the engine of the car's battery, the lights on the gauges flicker, And I pull over the side of the road, it's dark outside and cold. Not of the night but of the music's chords. _I'm alone._ Waiting for a stranger to stop by, and jumpstart my car. But only a God, could jumpstart my heart. As I reminisce on what it felt like being in love. A station I had once tuned into, with all it's cheesy love songs. And their catchy hooks. _I miss the sound of the music._ A small car pulls up beside me. Yellow as the sunflower open to the sun. Bright as a smile; of someone you're glad to see. 'How long has it been,' you'd ask them. The window went down; as a girl with a smile greeted me only by a gaze. 'Do you need help stranger,' she asked. 'Help with a lot of things, I doubt you could come up to. But you're welcome to try,' my heart replied. I nodded slightly, hoping this could be a quick fix. The quickest way for me out of a conversation. _But my car was dead._ The stranger offered me a ride to the next town, to grab a mechanic. I reluctantly agreed. And before I hopped in that box Sunny, I had to grab my plastic case of cassettes. She seemed keen on what contents I had at hand. Insisting I put a tape inside her radio. 'Hey that's my favourite band,' she said. I never smiled as real in that moment, than I ever did before. With so much in common, we fed our ears on good music, with our similar tastes. Making it to the next town, I gave my thanks. _Not expecting much back._ 'Here's my number. We should hang out sometime to listen to some good music. I'll trade you my number for a couple of tapes,' she said. She drove off leaving me with a smile, a number, and a reason for them both. As I wondered where next this story would go... __I'd love to tune into that.__
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Feb 27, 2022
Feb 27, 2022 at 1:10 PM UTC
Old car radio
The turning dials of that old car radio, Metallic, as the rubber coverings fell off. What had once protected, lost by the twisting of that radio's lifespan. In a car, old as it's manufacturers who are all dead, Her strength is still strong on this long journey to the bigger city. I fiddle through that plastic box of old cassette tapes. My finger picking out a title to fill the radio's mouth. To fill it up with so much music; that it's old speakers ***** out noise. Choking the engine of the car's battery, the lights on the gauges flicker, And I pull over the side of the road, it's dark outside and cold. Not of the night but of the music's chords. _I'm alone._ Waiting for a stranger to stop by, and jumpstart my car. But only a God, could jumpstart my heart. As I reminisce on what it felt like being in love. A station I had once tuned into, with all it's cheesy love songs. And their catchy hooks. _I miss the sound of the music._ A small car pulls up beside me. Yellow as the sunflower open to the sun. Bright as a smile; of someone you're glad to see. 'How long has it been,' you'd ask them. The window went down; as a girl with a smile greeted me only by a gaze. 'Do you need help stranger,' she asked. 'Help with a lot of things, I doubt you could come up to. But you're welcome to try,' my heart replied. I nodded slightly, hoping this could be a quick fix. The quickest way for me out of a conversation. _But my car was dead._ The stranger offered me a ride to the next town, to grab a mechanic. I reluctantly agreed. And before I hopped in that box Sunny, I had to grab my plastic case of cassettes. She seemed keen on what contents I had at hand. Insisting I put a tape inside her radio. 'Hey that's my favourite band,' she said. I never smiled as real in that moment, than I ever did before. With so much in common, we fed our ears on good music, with our similar tastes. Making it to the next town, I gave my thanks. _Not expecting much back._ 'Here's my number. We should hang out sometime to listen to some good music. I'll trade you my number for a couple of tapes,' she said. She drove off leaving me with a smile, a number, and a reason for them both. As I wondered where next this story would go... __I'd love to tune into that.__
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63
I just wish you were here Because I'm drunk and longing Longing for your body heat to warm my cold soul Maybe you can jumpstart My dead heart I'm drunk And you're my sobriety and a brighter life I just wish you were here So I could kiss your heart And listen to it beat to the rhythm of my feelings Feelings for you That I'm scared will blaze out of control, and soon I just wish you were here me.gs
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
9:46 pm, 1/5/14
I never thought it was possible: A picture of you, Could save me, Could jumpstart my heart, Could make me smile, Could make me giggle to myself, Could make me want to kiss you every single time. Your greatest moment In one picture. When I close my eyes, I can point out all the details: The way your eyes smile as you stare at me, Genuine and Endearing. The way your teeth shine as much as you do, Like stars in the sky. The way you pose tongue-in-cheek. In a playful manner. Fun. Interesting. Intriguing. Attractive. This one, personal photograph Of you, shining brightly. It could make me miss you, It could make me want you so much. It could make me cry so much. So much for you. Now it's the closest thing I have of you. I never thought it was possible, A picture of you, To be 2 sides of the same coin. *Happiness and Sadness. A Hurricane of Emotions.* A natural disaster I'd gladly walk into. It'll be too late to save me. But you can.
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Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Photograph.
Forever I wondered, Now so clearly it seems, For I am a Vessel - All who go, go through Me. I am the checkpoint At which some decide; I am the stop sign At which others realise How far they have gone, That they must keep going, That all One can know Is always worth knowing. I am the Traverse, The others climb aboard, As more move through me, The more am I worn. Now I am the subway - Diseased by character, Ridden with burdens, Yet having to nurture. But with all the damage, How can I fulfill My obligations As a faithful Vessel? My strength is the fuel I use to keep going, But no one fills a tank Empty without knowing. I won't ever blame you - Simply staying on track. But a train broken down Goes neither forward, nor back. So stuck here we'll be, 'Til the "Check Engine" light Reminds you of Me And you put up a fight To repair what's been lost Throughout years of hard work, Jumpstart this vessel, And revive your Traverse.
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
Reflection
I prefer my hours unreasonable, And my friends and allies insane. I prefer my fingers broken, and my phone disconnected *So even if you tried to call, I wouldn't get the message. Or be able to reply.* Leave a message after the tone Beep You don't need me to jumpstart your solitude- You seem to be doing fine on your own *I prefer my memories erased, and my saviors visible. Not that i need saving. Not that i need your help.* I gave up on humans a long time ago I prefer my my birds singing, my ears ringing As your words echo in my head *I'd leave you for dead, If ever the chance came my way. I am no Good Samaritan, As it turns out* I prefer my ink black anyway, and the horizon invisible Losing my place, is what I always seem to do Looking for the sounds Listening to the sights *Left in a cold darkness that is absence, Of mind, of body, But most notably, of you.*
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Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 9:20 PM UTC
Charlotte Grace and I make words
Somebody sweep me off my feet Slow down, hurry up What are we waiting for Train train Blowing my whistle Warning you at the cross street I seem to be the conductor Maybe I need to be just another passenger Blowing the whistle Train, train The train horn always blows At the cross streets Maybe I'm deaf and blind. I cross those tracks anyway. Where did you come from Train train Slamming into the hard concrete Feeling that heavy steel on steel I didn't see or hear But I felt the vibration in my chest My body shakes Interrupting my train Of thoughts Train train Blowing her whistle Fell asleep at the wheel Am I on the train Or driving Rubbing the sleep from my eyes As I feel the force of power Train train Running down the tracks Penny flattening on the metal Now its a keepsake Train train Stop don't you see the lights flashing Can't we hear the Interrupting soundtrack Smoking engineering It's warning whistle Smiling today whenever I hear That train Train train Infinite trip Watching the scenery From my minds eye Instead I ran Faster so I could Jumpstart Train train I'm pulled up My eyes have adjusted Darkness Gearing down Train train Next STOP Whistle sound Thunder Smaller as I watch Their train Leaving Alone in station Train train train train
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
.....
This fortune came to me today And it really touched my heart, For its message is plain as day – Our friendship needs a jumpstart. I haven’t been a friend to you; I beg you your forgiveness. Without you, I’m all shades of blue – It’s you, crazy girl, I miss. (February 2012)
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Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC
To Have a Friend, Be a Friend (Chinese Fortune)
I've wandered for years empty from lost loves despair had slowly consumed me I was no longer able to truly see. Stumbling and confused I tried to jumpstart my heart pseudo relationships barely kept me from crumbling but I couldn't force myself to feel anymore. Then you Your eyes burnt mine open again your hand led me back to beauty your kiss woke my soul I am alive again. You surround me now wherever I look, you're all I see my voice, my body, me heart all call your name. I am, in all senses, enraptured with you. Summer2002
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Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Enraptured
my love, my sweet, this pulsing beat ringing in my ears a heartbeat in my stomach head heavy and  d r a g g i n g nodding out, nodding off getting off she did who did? jill, jacking off hijack my life jumpstart my words I am plugged in ready for the ride shaking fits, out of control can't help it help me things are spinning X i guess this is why they call me blackout girl
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
Blackout Girl
I just want something to come home to Words A little picture of happiness. Something to make the empty echoes Of a lone heart beating A little softer Over and over Again my eyes flitting side to side A smile, maybe No promises. Just words. A lover’s repose I want something to wake up to Words A little picture of happiness Something to jumpstart the tired dull thuds Of a lone heart weakening To pull my lidless shades Up a little Corner of my mouth upturning Maybe No promises. Just words A lover’s invigoration. I want something to let my heart sing to Words Harmonized throughout my day Something to make the beating Prevail A little longer To draw myself Through life’s difficulties A scant crescent Maybe No Promises. Just words. A Lover’s Endurance.
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Mar 7, 2010
Mar 7, 2010 at 11:52 AM UTC
Words
ive been told many great poets relied on mind altering drugs opiates and pills in order to force their hand to the paper in order to jumpstart their brain like a side of the road two degrees junkyard car i have nothing to write about when I abstain from your name and calling you my ****** gives you the power to roll my eyes back into my head with pleasure it gives you the power to **** me typical bathroom scene slumped over your "i miss you" choking on the apologies i couldn't spit out in the middle of winter ill never be a great and self destructive artist not because i light your memories up under a spoon not because I let you infect me not because I roll you up and set you on fire and breathe in your sentences ill never be a great self destructive artist because there's no jumpstart or moment of connection ive tried every drug i can find and im still sitting with the shower running letting it burn me begging to feel something because really what's the difference between numbing me and telling me you don't love me anymore
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
dont remember this
On empty nights, I watch the flickering lights of the empty streets At 2 in the morning, A time made for a selected few. The time where either minds or bodies wander into strange places or strangers or both. Like a reoccuring dream, only one scene plays despite the endless succession of "ifs" and "buts" laying across my tongue like crippling bodies finding its way out, but acquiring Stockholm syndrome before it does. How can something end 7 times over? How can you not see the end coming? One after the other, the questions barrage in and I can make up all the reasons and excuses, but never really answering the question in the process. They say that perfect love casts out all fears, But did I love you too much that I lost the fear to lose the inner parts of me, or at the very least, my intuition to know when it's not gonna get any better? That we're not gonna get any better than this? That we've ran out of fuel to go around in circles? And by the 6th time we tried to jumpstart the engines, have my hands calloused thick enough to not feel the cuts from broken down wires and shattered glass sprinkled around everything you hand to me, like how you sugar coat the way you tell me you don't love me the same anymore? And when does the pain end? Or does it really ever end? Or do you just get used to it that it becomes a part of you? According to medicine, feeling pain is a way for your body to tell you that something's not right. The last time i saw you walking out on me, i felt a slight, gnawing pain in between my chest. When you closed the door, the pain disappeared. So i guess what i wanted to ask you was, Am I still your 2am thoughts, Or have you learned to sleep by 1?
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Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
12.17.16
On empty nights, I watch the flickering lights of the empty streets At 2 in the morning, A time made for a selected few. The time where either minds or bodies wander into strange places or strangers or both. Like a reoccuring dream, only one scene plays despite the endless succession of "ifs" and "buts" laying across my tongue like crippling bodies finding its way out, but acquiring Stockholm syndrome before it does. How can something end 7 times over? How can you not see the end coming? One after the other, the questions barrage in and I can make up all the reasons and excuses, but never really answering the question in the process. They say that perfect love casts out all fears, But did I love you too much that I lost the fear to lose the inner parts of me, or at the very least, my intuition to know when it's not gonna get any better? That we're not gonna get any better than this? That we've ran out of fuel to go around in circles? And by the 6th time we tried to jumpstart the engines, have my hands calloused thick enough to not feel the cuts from broken down wires and shattered glass sprinkled around everything you hand to me, like how you sugar coat the way you tell me you don't love me the same anymore? And when does the pain end? Or does it really ever end? Or do you just get used to it that it becomes a part of you? According to medicine, feeling pain is a way for your body to tell you that something's not right. The last time i saw you walking out on me, i felt a slight, gnawing pain in between my chest. When you closed the door, the pain disappeared. So i guess what i wanted to ask you was, Am I still your 2am thoughts, Or have you learned to sleep by 1?
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21
This fortune came to me today And it really touched my heart, For its message is plain as day – Our friendship needs a jumpstart. I haven’t been a friend to you; I beg you your forgiveness. Without you, I’m all shades of blue – It’s you, crazy girl, I miss. (February 2012)
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Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC
To Have a Friend, Be a Friend (Chinese Fortune)
The human race is run by emotion love strife greed passion driven to create made to destroy to fight for our causes our passion our love this is what makes us...us this is why we're human because we feel we have a soul we understand the pain and pleasure of a love so strong it could destroy a world and create it anew our drive is love and passion this is our calling this is why we fight to that we have something to love to have and hold to belong to we love because were are us this is our purpose our meaning our instrument to play because without love there is no cause to fight there is no noble cause there is no hate there is nothing with out the jumpstart of love and the flares of passion it creates it gives us hope it gives us art and it gives us pain and hate but nothing exists without love there is nothing but love its is the alpha and the omega it is the creation of creations it is our only sin and our only virtue its only semantics that limit the true power of our word love the only true and real thing love the beginning and the end the core of the soul our purpose our ****** superimposed hectic amazing lives
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Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
This is purpose
Does it hurt? Your chest? At night when the lights go out, and the silence creeps in. Do you remember me? Do you rememeber my touch on your skin, my lips pressed to yours? Do you long for me in your sheets once more? Do you? Or have you let another women trace over me. Have you erased the feeling of my lips with the kiss of another. Have you baptized yourself in the screams of a blonde haired beauty as she calls out your name so you can't hear the sobbing in my voice wailing for your love. Can you see me, Love? When you shut your eyes, do you see my face, long for my embrace, wish you could forget what I meant to you. But what did I mean to you? Did it break your heart to watch me beg for you to stay. How long have you been okay with the thought of losing me. When did your heart forget our love, when did you stop wanting my touch, when did I become someone you could let go. And I know you're never coming back. I just haven't found away to accept t hat. How do I accept that? Tell me your secret to falling out of love. I'd rip my heart from its cage if you told me it'd ease the pain. Anything to numb the feeling of knowing you're leaving. Soul searching for your soul in the eyes of another. But I don't see you, I don't see you, I just want to feel you. When his lips touched mine, it didn't jumpstart my heart. You've left every aspect of life drenched with your being. I see you in everything. You're haunting me, and taunting me. But it's all in my head, right? Just wake me up. I don't like this nightmare anymore, I'm over it. Just hold me and tell me it's all going to be okay. Tell me you're going to stay. Even though I see your hearts checked out, leaving in a taxi cab to some new girls pad, this isn't home anymore. The elephant in the room is me. Losing sleep over a guy who doens't want me, but the whole world wants me, just not you. And I don't know what to do. I just keep falling back to you. Lost in a maze of pain, screaming your name, but it'll never be the same again. I just want it all to end. If I don't have you, I have nothing. Nothing worse surviving for. Not anymore, not without you, my Love.
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Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 6:35 PM UTC
The Breakup
Does it hurt? Your chest? At night when the lights go out, and the silence creeps in. Do you remember me? Do you rememeber my touch on your skin, my lips pressed to yours? Do you long for me in your sheets once more? Do you? Or have you let another women trace over me. Have you erased the feeling of my lips with the kiss of another. Have you baptized yourself in the screams of a blonde haired beauty as she calls out your name so you can't hear the sobbing in my voice wailing for your love. Can you see me, Love? When you shut your eyes, do you see my face, long for my embrace, wish you could forget what I meant to you. But what did I mean to you? Did it break your heart to watch me beg for you to stay. How long have you been okay with the thought of losing me. When did your heart forget our love, when did you stop wanting my touch, when did I become someone you could let go. And I know you're never coming back. I just haven't found away to accept t hat. How do I accept that? Tell me your secret to falling out of love. I'd rip my heart from its cage if you told me it'd ease the pain. Anything to numb the feeling of knowing you're leaving. Soul searching for your soul in the eyes of another. But I don't see you, I don't see you, I just want to feel you. When his lips touched mine, it didn't jumpstart my heart. You've left every aspect of life drenched with your being. I see you in everything. You're haunting me, and taunting me. But it's all in my head, right? Just wake me up. I don't like this nightmare anymore, I'm over it. Just hold me and tell me it's all going to be okay. Tell me you're going to stay. Even though I see your hearts checked out, leaving in a taxi cab to some new girls pad, this isn't home anymore. The elephant in the room is me. Losing sleep over a guy who doens't want me, but the whole world wants me, just not you. And I don't know what to do. I just keep falling back to you. Lost in a maze of pain, screaming your name, but it'll never be the same again. I just want it all to end. If I don't have you, I have nothing. Nothing worse surviving for. Not anymore, not without you, my Love.
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4
You would think that death will be wearing a black long cloak; like Harry Potter’s scary and menacing dementors You would think that death will be holding a scythe; like the scary posters that you see on bookstores but no, instead of a black cloak he wears a black coat; instead of holding a scythe, he uses a pipe to smoke; instead of backing out you continued to hand down all your hopes you can pull out all your clubs and all your hearts because in every turn, your anger, he will jumpstart you can pull out all your spades and all your diamonds because in every turn, your bet will turn into thousands you will never match to him and maybe that’s why they call him grim in the end you will realize that you will never win in the darkness he will pull you in thinking that it’s too late and now you’ve finally got the clue that you can never cheat death but death can cheat you. c.a
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Death