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"lightened" poems
The darkness is lightened By the stars in the sky And I am not frightened With you by my side You hold my hand As we lie in the grass We talk about our favorite bands And things from our past We discuss the earth, moon, and sun And the origins of life We wonder why people use guns And why there is so much strife You stare into my eyes Moonlight twinkles in yours For a moment we are hypnotized Then the rain starts to pour Both of us laugh We leap off the ground The sky shows its wrath And you twirl me around With your hands on my waist We enjoy the refreshing shower I can feel our hearts race And the world feels like ours
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Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
Nighttime
it took a second for titanic to hit an iceberg it took 24 hours to sum up your day it will take a few minutes to make your caramel macchiato drink it will take you a second or two to finish up your lightened cigarette and it will only take a minute to brighten up someone else's day but how long will it take me to accept the fact that you're no longer mine.... maybe in days, weeks, months or a year I don't know.... but i know in time, I will
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 6:25 AM UTC
In Time
Honey, you're love is like fireworks Exploded beautifully at the sky Lightened up my darkest nights But lasted in just a blink of an eye
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
Fireworks
for Nick and Kaitie 1. Yesterday, right when our call got dropped, I was going to tell you something about marriage. I was going to tell you something gnomic, a maxim worth getting engraved. I've since forgotten, but I believe it was akin to saying that, like Truth, marriage is impossible to define in verbal space. So, I guess I'm glad I forgot. The words would've seemed either too hastily conceived for their subject matter or else weightless, enigmatic – without impact. I think it was Auden who whined, “Marriage is rarely bliss,” though he lightened the phrase by encapsulating it in the context of modern physics – namely, at least it has the ability to take place, and that should be enough to bring bliss equal to Buddha’s Emptiness. So, I'm happy our call got dropped, for the dial tone was the pithiest aphorism on marriage any sentient life could've produced. The key word is “produced.” 2.     This is what marriage is not: Socrates gurgling hemlock     on his dusty prison cot, giggling as he glimpsed a dikast’s deformed ****     Nietzsche tenured for philology at Basel; Nietzsche feverishly etching     Fick diese scheiße! on a Jena clinic's wall; biology predetermining the team for which he was pitching;     a poem; a hotdog; ******* a discharged Kalashnikov     engendering generational pain somewhere in Saratov     circa 1942; this is what marriage is not:     hatred, jealousy, ballyhoo, obsessive yearnings for a yacht;     this is what marriage is not: anything one pair of hands has wrought.   August 22, 2013
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
On a Marriage that Was to Take Place atop Half Dome in Yosemite National Park
for Nick and Kaitie 1. Yesterday, right when our call got dropped, I was going to tell you something about marriage. I was going to tell you something gnomic, a maxim worth getting engraved. I've since forgotten, but I believe it was akin to saying that, like Truth, marriage is impossible to define in verbal space. So, I guess I'm glad I forgot. The words would've seemed either too hastily conceived for their subject matter or else weightless, enigmatic – without impact. I think it was Auden who whined, “Marriage is rarely bliss,” though he lightened the phrase by encapsulating it in the context of modern physics – namely, at least it has the ability to take place, and that should be enough to bring bliss equal to Buddha’s Emptiness. So, I'm happy our call got dropped, for the dial tone was the pithiest aphorism on marriage any sentient life could've produced. The key word is “produced.” 2.     This is what marriage is not: Socrates gurgling hemlock     on his dusty prison cot, giggling as he glimpsed a dikast’s deformed ****     Nietzsche tenured for philology at Basel; Nietzsche feverishly etching     Fick diese scheiße! on a Jena clinic's wall; biology predetermining the team for which he was pitching;     a poem; a hotdog; ******* a discharged Kalashnikov     engendering generational pain somewhere in Saratov     circa 1942; this is what marriage is not:     hatred, jealousy, ballyhoo, obsessive yearnings for a yacht;     this is what marriage is not: anything one pair of hands has wrought.   August 22, 2013
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41
I am the wind when the tide is high And the clouds hang like broken picture frames in the sky, Holding on for a moment of glory While the poet’s haunting words write me life’s little story. I am the sun when the world has no shine, A gleam lost within the precious folds of time. My manner of pride surpassing What so long ago became everlasting, For the days have become nothing more than an actor’s last scene. I am thunder rippling in the dark As the raindrops wound the already fragile hearts. Sorrow falling upon the world like a blanket, Wondering how much longer our broken souls can take it. I am lost when the storm shatters the world, Breaking the glass as the space between the lines unfurl. And wandering like no man wanders before, Hanging from the busted seam brought by greed, hunger, and war, Never allowing their dreams to wash upon a dusty shore. I am lightning, vibrant and ready to be a guide in the night, Ready to end the darkness with a future promising and bright. I am lightning, leading them through the storm And abolishing the suffering that our hearts and our souls transformed. I am lightning amongst thunder, ironically quiet and frightened, Yet, they forget that their darkness too deserves to be lightened.
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Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
I Am Lightning
I don't know what to think when i'm staring in your eyes more akin to speak in blind lullabies. than logistify my heightened surmise in flight to somewhere nice if only for tonight come with me this night ignite the cindered fires of our desires and incite the throws of light in **** obscurity moaning through the sincerity of our oddities gleaming in the rarity of our academy of lust all or bust entrust the accounting of blaspheme to the enemies of poverty and shove me all the way down your throat fill you instill you with the hope of a million grinning in ********** of the tangled mental merchants of pretty lights and custom curtains drawn at first light dispersing amongst cursing pedestrians prior to *********** of forceful ************ with an another human lightened strikes the truant in 9 months of fluent agony just imagining little Timmy has me scavenging for a shimmy to escape its social **** to a blind ape still patting his head don't be mislead by ***** carriers pack your own barriers and prepare for the scarier side of a mans mind
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
warm up spewmanship
With heavy hearts the lightened feet march up on Whitehall take a peek, then down below the trenches go light up a woodbine, 'dontya know this is the show that we'll be late for', Says Scouse. 'Gor blimey mate' says cockney Joe, 'let's have a look at all them toffs' and ups the periscope as scouse scoffs bully beef. Thiefs of body, thiefs of friends,thiefs of time and there is a belief in some older men, that this is a time when we remember 'them' No words need be conveyed no tears for what they gave just a sober, sombre silence like when the guns fell silent one hundred years ago.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
Ghosts
She is a distant star, where no one could ever reach. The brightest of them all, the name everyone would call. She has everything she wanted, needed - Like a blackhole that ****** up my whole galaxy, where my little faint star fell in love with; the only thing that makes my evening lightened. I am just the Sun, who stood there in the daylight and stayed until tomorrow; that offers my very warmth and life - “We are the same right? We both paint up the sky and scatter sparkling glitters in this universe…” I asked. She answered me; simply… “Our only difference is that, their eyes are on me"
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC
Distant
*"Once upon a time there was" "no"       "No"             "NO" "Many moons ago" "There was a dreamer" Who wished with all her heart, To find the gold at the rainbows end, She would look for clouds Bursting Up High, Her mother smiled. "Are you still searching for that rainbows end" "Pamela  your dreams are the clouds" *"Mummy a *** of gold I will find"* "For if you latch on to one" "You will find yourself upon the other side"" Then one morning awoke to find a rainbow Moving over her lawn, Blouse, Trousers, Shoes On too, she had packed a case Encase this time did come true, She slid down the banister "Whoooooosh" Through the front door, Just as it was fading Hands did grab hold, She was surrounded by colours Red,                 Orange Yellow                  Green Blue                Indigo Violet All were pure and bright, then with a "Thump" On her bottom she did land, surrounded By beauty, plants the colours of the rainbow "Blue leaves" "Grass was orange" Sky was all shades of the rainbow too, A *** seen, gold did gleam, Mouth wide open, A violent fly flew in then out, "Gross" And she then quickly shut her mouth, She was over the moon, the rainbow too, She picked it up, Lighter than she thought?? She picked one up Put it too her mouth, And bit, It was squiggly in her mouth "Gross" Twice in two minutes, She was Sullen, Grumpy, Tears Did cascade from little eyes, They came out Colours of the rainbow Which lightened her mood, She wiped her tears looked once, twice Then hands upon the rainbow, And whoosh, she landed with a "Thump" On next doors cow, "MMmmmoooooo" Went the cow, "AAaahhhhhhh" Went Pamela, She ran with  a Scare And Fright, As in the distance still hearing the angry "MMMmmoooooooooooo" She ran to her house, opened the door, "MUM" "MUM" "MUM" With a fright her mum ran out, "Pamela" "My baby are you all right" "I found the rainbow" **"I found the *** "I found a land of colour," "But the treasure wasn't right" All said with in one breathe, Now breath my angel, As mother did take a coin Opened it carefully and with the tip Of here finger tasted it, "MMmmmm" So creamy, so light, As she took her in the kitchen, And the toaster minutes later POPPED out, Spreading it evenly, and eaten was The toast crust and all, "Mummy may I try one" Pamela said "Magic words my honey bear" "Please may I try one" And with that the toast again POPPED out, "MMmmmmmmm" "My gosh mummy this tastes divine" "You found a golden treasure that's for sure" As they had toast each morning, Opening a coin spreading it evenly, "It was a taste to behold" The treasure at the end of the rainbow, Wasn't money, but I was something better A taste that put a smile on faces Every morning at breakfast time.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Dreams Upon A Raindow
*"Once upon a time there was" "no"       "No"             "NO" "Many moons ago" "There was a dreamer" Who wished with all her heart, To find the gold at the rainbows end, She would look for clouds Bursting Up High, Her mother smiled. "Are you still searching for that rainbows end" "Pamela  your dreams are the clouds" *"Mummy a *** of gold I will find"* "For if you latch on to one" "You will find yourself upon the other side"" Then one morning awoke to find a rainbow Moving over her lawn, Blouse, Trousers, Shoes On too, she had packed a case Encase this time did come true, She slid down the banister "Whoooooosh" Through the front door, Just as it was fading Hands did grab hold, She was surrounded by colours Red,                 Orange Yellow                  Green Blue                Indigo Violet All were pure and bright, then with a "Thump" On her bottom she did land, surrounded By beauty, plants the colours of the rainbow "Blue leaves" "Grass was orange" Sky was all shades of the rainbow too, A *** seen, gold did gleam, Mouth wide open, A violent fly flew in then out, "Gross" And she then quickly shut her mouth, She was over the moon, the rainbow too, She picked it up, Lighter than she thought?? She picked one up Put it too her mouth, And bit, It was squiggly in her mouth "Gross" Twice in two minutes, She was Sullen, Grumpy, Tears Did cascade from little eyes, They came out Colours of the rainbow Which lightened her mood, She wiped her tears looked once, twice Then hands upon the rainbow, And whoosh, she landed with a "Thump" On next doors cow, "MMmmmoooooo" Went the cow, "AAaahhhhhhh" Went Pamela, She ran with  a Scare And Fright, As in the distance still hearing the angry "MMMmmoooooooooooo" She ran to her house, opened the door, "MUM" "MUM" "MUM" With a fright her mum ran out, "Pamela" "My baby are you all right" "I found the rainbow" **"I found the *** "I found a land of colour," "But the treasure wasn't right" All said with in one breathe, Now breath my angel, As mother did take a coin Opened it carefully and with the tip Of here finger tasted it, "MMmmmm" So creamy, so light, As she took her in the kitchen, And the toaster minutes later POPPED out, Spreading it evenly, and eaten was The toast crust and all, "Mummy may I try one" Pamela said "Magic words my honey bear" "Please may I try one" And with that the toast again POPPED out, "MMmmmmmmm" "My gosh mummy this tastes divine" "You found a golden treasure that's for sure" As they had toast each morning, Opening a coin spreading it evenly, "It was a taste to behold" The treasure at the end of the rainbow, Wasn't money, but I was something better A taste that put a smile on faces Every morning at breakfast time.
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121
My heart like the ocean Ebbs & flows with the presence of the moon Aye, the inconstant moon In all it's silvered graces Shimmers only of it's own accord; Like yourself While you light the sky Life's burdens are but jetsam cast away The ship of my soul is lightened to freely follow loves wind where ever it does catch my sails But in your absence I am lost on a tumultuous sea Likely to sink In the wake of this tempest I seek solace in the stars But flotsam am I, As I know you shine not for me
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
A Heart Adrift
He is in love with questions, Little questions that she asks to him, And the lilting world of words, With the fabric of philosophy, Taste of fresh ideas, Interpretation of dreams and zodiacs, And definitely for her stupid riddles. But at the same moment He is in love with one who left, And the poisoned past he baths in, With being perpetually lonesome, In love with terrible yet beautiful memories, With darkness, deep and coveted, And holds scars for the one who left. But what is actually happening His soul is getting grey, On journey with black and white passengers. His body is getting **** With dusky heart and lightened mind. Sadness and madness has held him together, over and again.
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Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 6:30 AM UTC
Grey Soul
Watch me as I fall from here I do not wish to speak of such misfortunes unfortunately other options have quickly began shortening their obvious attempt for what can be logical decision such incision with a knife also a master of the fiddle fear me not the sky is lightened now the dark began to set How I wish it were to echo, as the moon was put to bed Yet my life has become ill gotten, a thorn of crown upon my head, yet my troubles seem so meager then those of mice unlike us men Gently weep into the silence go forth brother hear your cry may the sightly wind be with you guide it deep into the sky cause of thunder and then lighting limit those who fear the sound hear them weeping at the door step as if the cat had made a sound
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Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
height
Her soul is tainted in a dark mystifying mist. While her body is lightened and beautified by a warm cooling mist
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Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 2:38 PM UTC
Mist...
This feeling I have that drags my spirit And I indulge in its lowly zest out of habit My feet they move in a trudge like manner Shoulders hunched inwards non receptive to splendour. How heavy it is in my heart I weep For a life been dealt in a single, swift sweep Cards that has been dealt from aeons past Oaths recited loudly so that they would last. Amidst the crowd of mask-faced happiness Unconvinced, I slipped past unfound lest I be careless. Discomforted in what on this path may lie Discontented as such that my heart whines a cry. Rigidity of routine when sensibility took over Bruised bad and battered well my heart tumbled after It felt like it's the end of my dream laden days Reality sinks in, picks on my heart and there it stays. I don't want to leave my coveted dreamscape I don't want to destroy my only means of escape On the ***** of fantasy, forever I want to stay But it's crumbling away alarmingly like sun beaten clay. I deceive my heart into thinking that there's still hope Truth is I may have come to the end of the rope Heart wants to hear a faint whisper of reassurance Mind chides heart, it judgingly delivers it's sentence. My cries cannot be heard, a wail of futile pleas Banging on locked doors for which I don't have the keys So weak this spirit for it has thus been broken Morsel by morsel, this hapless soul is being eaten. This burden I'm carrying seem never to have lightened It is the dark of this period I wish to have brightened Someone, anyone help...please show me a way In this god forsaken pit I do not wish to stay. However there exists yet a slim little chance Key to courage is somewhere if I could afford a glance Chances are that I may never even find it I'll be trapped in a hole in which I can never truly fit.
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
Morose
This feeling I have that drags my spirit And I indulge in its lowly zest out of habit My feet they move in a trudge like manner Shoulders hunched inwards non receptive to splendour. How heavy it is in my heart I weep For a life been dealt in a single, swift sweep Cards that has been dealt from aeons past Oaths recited loudly so that they would last. Amidst the crowd of mask-faced happiness Unconvinced, I slipped past unfound lest I be careless. Discomforted in what on this path may lie Discontented as such that my heart whines a cry. Rigidity of routine when sensibility took over Bruised bad and battered well my heart tumbled after It felt like it's the end of my dream laden days Reality sinks in, picks on my heart and there it stays. I don't want to leave my coveted dreamscape I don't want to destroy my only means of escape On the ***** of fantasy, forever I want to stay But it's crumbling away alarmingly like sun beaten clay. I deceive my heart into thinking that there's still hope Truth is I may have come to the end of the rope Heart wants to hear a faint whisper of reassurance Mind chides heart, it judgingly delivers it's sentence. My cries cannot be heard, a wail of futile pleas Banging on locked doors for which I don't have the keys So weak this spirit for it has thus been broken Morsel by morsel, this hapless soul is being eaten. This burden I'm carrying seem never to have lightened It is the dark of this period I wish to have brightened Someone, anyone help...please show me a way In this god forsaken pit I do not wish to stay. However there exists yet a slim little chance Key to courage is somewhere if I could afford a glance Chances are that I may never even find it I'll be trapped in a hole in which I can never truly fit.
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36
time steals up soft in autumn’s haze through fallen leaves and frosted morn no longer smiles through summer days bears dreadful gaze of mercy shorn scribes lines upon youth’s winsome face and brings the ache of stiffened joint gives halting stride and slower pace age piled like leaves does thus anoint yet in thine eye dwells springtide’s bloom in ardor’s dance is lightened tread warm voice dispels autumnal gloom at gentle touch are decades fled for love knows naught of count of days let the years flow as they will unclouded passion’s flames yet blaze I shall be thy lover still
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Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 8:58 PM UTC
Defiant
Little boy Red fires trucks Tree forts Grasshoppers Model rockets Rock n roll The sea Growing body Out of place Sitting alone Watching Lonely Hide No one understands Girl crush Cars Writing 21 Alcohol Drugs Relief Job Alcohol Must smile Alcohol Work Forget Gay girls Weekends with Heidi I fit in Guys made jokes Hate them Hate them Alcohol Alcohol Marriage Love Happier Travel Escape Love 30 years Hiding Feel it Covered Concealed Leaking out Femininity Fashion Passion Beauty Desire Need I'm Trans Release Lightened Free Happy Me ©Lj Mark 2015
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
The real me
Life flows down to death; we cannot bind That current that it should not flee: Life flows down to death, as rivers find The inevitable sea. Men work and think, but women feel; And so (for I'm a woman, I) And so I should be glad to die And cease from impotence of zeal, And cease from hope, and cease from dread, And cease from yearnings without gain, And cease from all this world of pain, And be at peace among the dead. Hearts that die, by death renew their youth, Lightened of this life that doubts and dies; Silent and contented, while the Truth Unveiled makes them wise. Why should I seek and never find That something which I have not had? Fair and unutterably sad The world hath sought time out of mind; The world hath sought and I have sought,-- Ah, empty world and empty I! For we have spent our strength for nought, And soon it will be time to die. Sparks fly upward toward their fount of fire, Kindling, flashing, hovering:-- Kindle, flash, my soul; mount higher and higher, Thou whole burnt-offering!
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2.4k
An Immurata Sister
So I took her to the river believing she was a maiden, but she already had a husband. It was on St. James night and almost as if I was obliged to. The lanterns went out and the crickets lightened up. In the farthest street corners I touched her sleeping ******* and they opened to me suddenly like spikes of hyacinth. The starch of her petticoat sounded in my ears like a piece of silk rent by ten knives. Without silver light on their foilage the trees had grown larger and a horizon of dogs barked very far from the river. Past the blackberries, the reeds and the hawthorne underneath her cluster of hair I made a hollow in the earth I took off my tie, she too off her dress. I, my belt with the revolver. She, her four bodices. Nor nard nor mother-o-pearl have skin so fine, nor does glass with silver shine with such brillance. Her thighs slipped away from me like startled fish, half full of fire, half full of cold. That night I ran on the best of roads mounted on a nacre mare without bridle stirrups. As a man, I won't repeat the tings she said to me. The light of understanding has made me more discreet. Smeared with sand and kisses I took her away from the river. The sowrds of the liles battled with the air. I behaved like what I am, like a proper gypsy. I gave her a large sewing basket, of straw-colored satin, but I did not fall in love for although she had a husband she told me she as a maiden when I took her to the river.
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2.2k
The Faithless Wife
I roam in my memory finding every connection to my dreams’ head section And I hope to dream about a room You lightened by a moon Me on your chest Touching the rest And whispering about our love and beauty of yours. As you smile And think, “I’m the one he adores”
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Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
Before I Close My Eyes
It's mid-July but in my heart, it is winter; I curl up in the back of a closet, wrapped in blankets and the scent of salty water and seaweed crawls up my nostrils until I'm choking; it engulfs me, a cold embrace, the breeze piercing me through clothes that somehow feel like a fisherman's net twisted around me, leaving marks on my skin. It's mid-July but in my heart, it is winter; like driftwood washed upon the shore, like sand sifting through my fragile fingers, like an imminent sea storm, danger impending, memories crush me. Sunburnt skin, goosebumps and droplets of water; bodies pressed, wounds left to heal and scars that slowly fester. There's something autumnal in summer, gashes bleeding ink. It's mid-July but in my heart, it's winter: remember, remember when we used to sit under birches, lashes shiny with droplets of dreams, remember, remember, bicycles, children with eyes bright and green, freckled faces, salty-tasting kisses, scorching sun and summer winds. Midnight storms, skies lightened, torn by lightning bolts -- July is not the time for eulogies, remember lazy afternoons, you, me, the boat, regret always tastes as bitter as children's lips just slightly touching far away from coast. It's mid-July but in my heart, it's winter; the tide will wash away another fisherman's corpse; remember all the tales of sirens? You never told me Death came with hair of gold. There's nothing quite so sad as being sad in summer. It is July, and yet outside it snows.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 10:19 AM UTC
Fisherman's tales
It's mid-July but in my heart, it is winter; I curl up in the back of a closet, wrapped in blankets and the scent of salty water and seaweed crawls up my nostrils until I'm choking; it engulfs me, a cold embrace, the breeze piercing me through clothes that somehow feel like a fisherman's net twisted around me, leaving marks on my skin. It's mid-July but in my heart, it is winter; like driftwood washed upon the shore, like sand sifting through my fragile fingers, like an imminent sea storm, danger impending, memories crush me. Sunburnt skin, goosebumps and droplets of water; bodies pressed, wounds left to heal and scars that slowly fester. There's something autumnal in summer, gashes bleeding ink. It's mid-July but in my heart, it's winter: remember, remember when we used to sit under birches, lashes shiny with droplets of dreams, remember, remember, bicycles, children with eyes bright and green, freckled faces, salty-tasting kisses, scorching sun and summer winds. Midnight storms, skies lightened, torn by lightning bolts -- July is not the time for eulogies, remember lazy afternoons, you, me, the boat, regret always tastes as bitter as children's lips just slightly touching far away from coast. It's mid-July but in my heart, it's winter; the tide will wash away another fisherman's corpse; remember all the tales of sirens? You never told me Death came with hair of gold. There's nothing quite so sad as being sad in summer. It is July, and yet outside it snows.
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37
Shaking, tossing, turning, Stomach knotted; churning, Light of day I'm yearning, Darkness fades for you. Raging, pulsing, chasing Heart is pounding; racing. Creaking boards I’m pacing. Make haste morning dew. Stirring, calming, slowing, Curtains lightened; glowing Misty solace growing, My mind returns, renewed.
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Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 5:59 AM UTC
-Yearning-
He admired her from a far. The way she parked in her shiny car. Her smile lightened all around, Even him, who usually wears a frown. He couldn't help but stare. Such a beauty by a look. But he never dared. He'd be a fish stuck on a hook.
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 7:55 PM UTC
The Admirer