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"memorize" poems
I think it's crazy that they want me to type an essay over deforestation for a score or practice or to better my writing. That's 60 more minutes I'm wasting of my life. They say that sooner or later everything we do we will do with technology. So here I am now writing this essay that's supposed to be about deforestation and the effects and consequences. We are not discussing the issue. We are sitting in wooden chairs with our computers sitting on our wooden desks surrounded by wooden bookcases. So much irony right? I seem to be the only one to notice anyways. We come here seven hours a day, do hours of homework, "study" the information, aka memorize regurgitate then forget all of it. This is not teaching us. We are not learning anything useful to help us live. It's all numbers and words that do not matter to me. If anyone thinks that all us kids come to school to learn they're wrong and if they think that the teachers come to teach they're even more wrong. We come to pass class after class so we can leave and actually make something of ourselves. The teachers come because they have to for the money. They do not care about us or our feelings. They put all this pressure on us to be the best we can be which really means make a good grade. I've been silent for so long now. Not expressing my feelings towards much of anything. Also toward the reason I have to wake up at five every morning to be around people I do not even like. I feel as though the education system is unfair and cruel and does not take into consideration what the kids who go through this cycle everyday think. So that's what I think about deforestation.
0
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
deforestation
I think it's crazy that they want me to type an essay over deforestation for a score or practice or to better my writing. That's 60 more minutes I'm wasting of my life. They say that sooner or later everything we do we will do with technology. So here I am now writing this essay that's supposed to be about deforestation and the effects and consequences. We are not discussing the issue. We are sitting in wooden chairs with our computers sitting on our wooden desks surrounded by wooden bookcases. So much irony right? I seem to be the only one to notice anyways. We come here seven hours a day, do hours of homework, "study" the information, aka memorize regurgitate then forget all of it. This is not teaching us. We are not learning anything useful to help us live. It's all numbers and words that do not matter to me. If anyone thinks that all us kids come to school to learn they're wrong and if they think that the teachers come to teach they're even more wrong. We come to pass class after class so we can leave and actually make something of ourselves. The teachers come because they have to for the money. They do not care about us or our feelings. They put all this pressure on us to be the best we can be which really means make a good grade. I've been silent for so long now. Not expressing my feelings towards much of anything. Also toward the reason I have to wake up at five every morning to be around people I do not even like. I feel as though the education system is unfair and cruel and does not take into consideration what the kids who go through this cycle everyday think. So that's what I think about deforestation.
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6
[Verse 1] Monster sized swag; not modest bout my splendor Marvel at the flag and I'm the ultimate avenger Buck Rodgers, D-Bird yep I'm the number one contender, So I gotta uphold this rep of bein uncontrollable so I'll take the lead, I hold the world beneath my feet I'm a fiend, elite Haze so cloudy cause I be blowin Swisher Sweets Drug addiction is my disease It's my expertise See here's the masterpiece: Raps lobotomize I'm traumatized since 1993 [Verse 2] Victimized by the lies of this trifilin enterprise You can front but you can't hide There's no fault behind your eyes So I hope this insult will suffice It should come as no surprise A grin will spread across my face From side to side My ***** mouth will mesmerize hypnotized, memorize the words that escape my lips I'm a degenerate unabridged uncut You're a ************* **** Go hang yourself from a bridge Here's a rope, I hope you choke ******* ******* smoochie smoochie Only chains you got is Gucci Y’all basic brothers rep that set But fake like that 2chi [Verse 3] man I get so high, Now watch me get higher Watch me take flight As my wings soar skyward You know I'ma fighter So watch me take my place As I eat this rap game up and then spit it in your face Now pass me a lighter see me rollin while I bake I mean I'm not a pastry maker, but I still bake for the sake My rhymes are so ill They're gonna make you sick I be tweetin on my twitter While Betty Crocker ***** my **** uh [Verse 4] Reid between the lines son and please proceed with caution Alien splittin kilos, I be one tweaked ****** martian I'm five steps ahead and these haters ****** forfeit You four feet tall and I'm so high I'm in ****** orbit Make these snitches sleep with fishes How ****** vicious spittin mischief ****** trippin out these hypocrites Dishin out these disses which Bein inconsiderate in this fast paced game of chase But if I wanted to catch your drama I'd just go check my facebook page *****
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 3:30 AM UTC
Masterpiece
[Verse 1] Monster sized swag; not modest bout my splendor Marvel at the flag and I'm the ultimate avenger Buck Rodgers, D-Bird yep I'm the number one contender, So I gotta uphold this rep of bein uncontrollable so I'll take the lead, I hold the world beneath my feet I'm a fiend, elite Haze so cloudy cause I be blowin Swisher Sweets Drug addiction is my disease It's my expertise See here's the masterpiece: Raps lobotomize I'm traumatized since 1993 [Verse 2] Victimized by the lies of this trifilin enterprise You can front but you can't hide There's no fault behind your eyes So I hope this insult will suffice It should come as no surprise A grin will spread across my face From side to side My ***** mouth will mesmerize hypnotized, memorize the words that escape my lips I'm a degenerate unabridged uncut You're a ************* **** Go hang yourself from a bridge Here's a rope, I hope you choke ******* ******* smoochie smoochie Only chains you got is Gucci Y’all basic brothers rep that set But fake like that 2chi [Verse 3] man I get so high, Now watch me get higher Watch me take flight As my wings soar skyward You know I'ma fighter So watch me take my place As I eat this rap game up and then spit it in your face Now pass me a lighter see me rollin while I bake I mean I'm not a pastry maker, but I still bake for the sake My rhymes are so ill They're gonna make you sick I be tweetin on my twitter While Betty Crocker ***** my **** uh [Verse 4] Reid between the lines son and please proceed with caution Alien splittin kilos, I be one tweaked ****** martian I'm five steps ahead and these haters ****** forfeit You four feet tall and I'm so high I'm in ****** orbit Make these snitches sleep with fishes How ****** vicious spittin mischief ****** trippin out these hypocrites Dishin out these disses which Bein inconsiderate in this fast paced game of chase But if I wanted to catch your drama I'd just go check my facebook page *****
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63
do not date a girl who writes. she will internalize everything, carve poems into your eyelashes instead of kissing them, she will analyze you, calculate age from the rings your coffee cup leaves instead of refilling it. she will memorize the way your lips curl around steam, but not that you take it two sugars, no cream. she will read your palm instead of holding it against her chest. she will not blink when you leave, because she is already romanticizing it.
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
do not date a girl who writes
In case no one gets it, i collect my excerpts better than i spell my prayer. Spills my personal feelings and trouble, longer than i bow on my knees. i memorize every shame and quote it in a piece of paper, the same stroke they did to break my bones. Marks down every of their tone when i got yelled at, being degraded. In case no one gets it, i use my fingertips to fight. Being sure of my words, but never myself. They can take off my guts, break down my sanity into pieces of insecurity. Yet i’m here to remain bold until the last spill of ink, and my pen can no longer stand.
0
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:01 AM UTC
writers are also warrior
Trying to find solace in the suburbs when everything seemed superb like that cookie-cutter, picket fence, faux fur mentality they instill at the start Just an infant with scars He reached for her baby bump, Then slammed it hard onto the stairwell She fell, wept, and held That lil princess and prayed she'd never have the same hell All grown up. Alive and well shes got different demons different intricate cells It's been said she is special      she is awake But, in many ways She is the same As that ANGEL who carried her 23 years ago That's debt I'll always owe A gift I'll never own Carefully Constructed and Creatively Sewn shoved a soul into that shell That'll one day guide her back home Shes got her mamas tough, yet gentle heart her smile, brevity and love for art.. she can write her *** off like her the wrote and the writ Yet she's plagued by guilt every ******* minute GUILT for the life that she'd been given GUILT  for each exhale emitted She prays that God will have the sense to go back in time and hit OMIT (on all chapters even close to the word 'human' there's GUILT for feeling guilty even more for despising your own ) "I must've slipped through the gate, admit it! Or recruit another for your mission regretfully, I must solicit that I'm not fit for this position I'm no hero I'm the villain If ya look close you'll see I spit venom" Mama walks in smiles and says "WE. ARE. WOMEN!" "Betta recognize and quit your bitchin' as of today, you are living.. You are loved You are safe You are ************* winning WARRIOR, CREATOR, QUEEN, GODDESS, INCARNATE.. We are strength & We are the faith never to be broken but we still stay brave The Legend wont start or end with you Its a fight stretched out through  time You will understand soon No matter how much you ask "WHY" It wont stop circumstance wont stop lies wont stop suffering and will NEVER compromise Your in the way of the wave, child This.....  the secret to life When in the way of the wave... its only a matter of time S0 if youre searching for solace Will you promise To memorize this line
0
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 3:54 AM UTC
Mom
Trying to find solace in the suburbs when everything seemed superb like that cookie-cutter, picket fence, faux fur mentality they instill at the start Just an infant with scars He reached for her baby bump, Then slammed it hard onto the stairwell She fell, wept, and held That lil princess and prayed she'd never have the same hell All grown up. Alive and well shes got different demons different intricate cells It's been said she is special      she is awake But, in many ways She is the same As that ANGEL who carried her 23 years ago That's debt I'll always owe A gift I'll never own Carefully Constructed and Creatively Sewn shoved a soul into that shell That'll one day guide her back home Shes got her mamas tough, yet gentle heart her smile, brevity and love for art.. she can write her *** off like her the wrote and the writ Yet she's plagued by guilt every ******* minute GUILT for the life that she'd been given GUILT  for each exhale emitted She prays that God will have the sense to go back in time and hit OMIT (on all chapters even close to the word 'human' there's GUILT for feeling guilty even more for despising your own ) "I must've slipped through the gate, admit it! Or recruit another for your mission regretfully, I must solicit that I'm not fit for this position I'm no hero I'm the villain If ya look close you'll see I spit venom" Mama walks in smiles and says "WE. ARE. WOMEN!" "Betta recognize and quit your bitchin' as of today, you are living.. You are loved You are safe You are ************* winning WARRIOR, CREATOR, QUEEN, GODDESS, INCARNATE.. We are strength & We are the faith never to be broken but we still stay brave The Legend wont start or end with you Its a fight stretched out through  time You will understand soon No matter how much you ask "WHY" It wont stop circumstance wont stop lies wont stop suffering and will NEVER compromise Your in the way of the wave, child This.....  the secret to life When in the way of the wave... its only a matter of time S0 if youre searching for solace Will you promise To memorize this line
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85
To the girl who will one day take my last name I want to tell you that you look beautiful, Beautiful like in the way the summer sun bends around the north pole because it refuses to set its constant and lasting Just like the way my heart jumped the moment i saw you for the first time and it has refused to come down Everytime since, when i see you, although i have never been much of a dreamer, i daydream about all the things i want to do to you like... Make you smile... or blush So that my daydreams will have the perfect backdrop of love to memorize your every freckle, and then i want to drink the smile i put on your face beause i know it is the only thing that can quench my thirst I want to tell you that I want to learn ballet, just so i can catch you everytime you jump and make sure that ill never let you fall... unless it's for me... I want to learn to draw Because I want to draw my way into your life, van gogh my way into your past present and future, i want to spend my whole life with you, and on your dying day i want to roundhouse kick death for even thinking of taking you away from me But most of all i want to make you... happy Happy in a way that is unexplainable Like why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near It would be to easy to say that just like me they long to be close to you And i want it to be unexpected like when you fall asleep after a long day Slowely at first and then it engulfs you completely I want to tell you that I want you to be able to feel the sunlights warm caress even on the darkest of days And on days when you can't see the stars in the night sky I will cut stars out of my paper heart Even though they always seem to rip when held in hands that aren't careful enough and then I want to hang them from your ceiling So you will always have something beautiful to look at And if you would just notice me I promise that I can love you like that... But instead when I finally noticed that you caught me staring at you about 15 minutes ago... I opened my mouth and instead of all the soliloquies that dance through my head whenever you saunter into a room all that came out was hi..... I think it was a good start.
0
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
To The Girl Who Will One Day Take My Last Name
To the girl who will one day take my last name I want to tell you that you look beautiful, Beautiful like in the way the summer sun bends around the north pole because it refuses to set its constant and lasting Just like the way my heart jumped the moment i saw you for the first time and it has refused to come down Everytime since, when i see you, although i have never been much of a dreamer, i daydream about all the things i want to do to you like... Make you smile... or blush So that my daydreams will have the perfect backdrop of love to memorize your every freckle, and then i want to drink the smile i put on your face beause i know it is the only thing that can quench my thirst I want to tell you that I want to learn ballet, just so i can catch you everytime you jump and make sure that ill never let you fall... unless it's for me... I want to learn to draw Because I want to draw my way into your life, van gogh my way into your past present and future, i want to spend my whole life with you, and on your dying day i want to roundhouse kick death for even thinking of taking you away from me But most of all i want to make you... happy Happy in a way that is unexplainable Like why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near It would be to easy to say that just like me they long to be close to you And i want it to be unexpected like when you fall asleep after a long day Slowely at first and then it engulfs you completely I want to tell you that I want you to be able to feel the sunlights warm caress even on the darkest of days And on days when you can't see the stars in the night sky I will cut stars out of my paper heart Even though they always seem to rip when held in hands that aren't careful enough and then I want to hang them from your ceiling So you will always have something beautiful to look at And if you would just notice me I promise that I can love you like that... But instead when I finally noticed that you caught me staring at you about 15 minutes ago... I opened my mouth and instead of all the soliloquies that dance through my head whenever you saunter into a room all that came out was hi..... I think it was a good start.
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25
////March 20 2014 ///// Fainting spells are more common when I'm trying to memorize how ****** got into power Sighing is more common when I'm trying to learn the art of polynomials crying is more common when I have two tests tomorrow and I still need to start that essay that was given yesterday madness is when I have to understand that my sadness is a genetic disposition I could never control Disappointment is more common when I have to yet again cancel the plans I made with my friends But still even after a week of doing this **** the only thing I learned is that knowledge isn't found in a textbook and a power point presentation
0
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Education
Cleanliness is something that you learn when your mom washes your hair and reminds you to brush your teeth before bed. It isn't something you think about, it's something you do out of habit. Cleanliness is something you memorize, you don't associate it with someone's ****** history until their history writes itself into your present and future. It receives a new meaning once you wash your hair and brush your teeth and you somehow still don't feel clean.
0
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Clean
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of a vulture. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the ***** whale, and the ***** whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily. Life will never end when you are in it.”
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
By Lemony Snicket
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of a vulture. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the ***** whale, and the ***** whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where we once were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily. Life will never end when you are in it.”
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7
For our Echoing Little Red Riding Hoods Lagging behind in the Opposition Departments Lets help you out by  offering some buzzwords For your important assignments even though they've been floated around forever, But we understand you need some help catching up So memorize these basic premises And please enrich your lives and utilise your valuable time by raking your little brains to create  poems with them Lets begin with ITALIAN , don't forget RAINBOW, LIES is also in, add RESPECT, throw in RUDENESS, factor in LITTLE GIRL, remember ANGEL, write about TRUST, that much overuse term, throw in BLACK - that's quite a popular one. Also PINK is quite up the scale, as well as HEART- Broken ( as if ) and pleeeezee make a big fuss on LONELINESS That's a big seller. APPLE and SERPENT did appear now and again so trigger them as you like. How about BETRAYAL, LOYALTY, FAKE FRIENDS and that famous one, FOUR or is it THREE, what about BONES, Lets not forget SKELETON or even ANOREXIC, let also remember SCREAM, that was a scream..hahah see what I did there! Remember GREY that has a bit of colour and what about BUCK or even DOOR-MAT that was a wipe-off or SUBMISSIVE another popular one. Hmmm...what about HAIR CUT or TOMBOY or DIGITAL those are quite good or WOODGREEN or HULL or DOG that reared its head...woof....woof...hahahah or CEREAL, beats me what that's about or even MONEY..though that never was an issue, how about GOLD-DIGGER just for drama or 50/50 which has been mentioned. Hey! don't forget RED, what to do without that pinking away. So please  Little Hoods, students of the Opposition Department keep with the programme and work on these pointers crack your little brains and write poems like crazy little ants Your contribution is valuable cause persistent is the Key. Keep up with your assignment and forget all other things Oppose, oppose, oppose, work those little brains!
0
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
Echo Heads & Cowpat.....hahaha
For our Echoing Little Red Riding Hoods Lagging behind in the Opposition Departments Lets help you out by  offering some buzzwords For your important assignments even though they've been floated around forever, But we understand you need some help catching up So memorize these basic premises And please enrich your lives and utilise your valuable time by raking your little brains to create  poems with them Lets begin with ITALIAN , don't forget RAINBOW, LIES is also in, add RESPECT, throw in RUDENESS, factor in LITTLE GIRL, remember ANGEL, write about TRUST, that much overuse term, throw in BLACK - that's quite a popular one. Also PINK is quite up the scale, as well as HEART- Broken ( as if ) and pleeeezee make a big fuss on LONELINESS That's a big seller. APPLE and SERPENT did appear now and again so trigger them as you like. How about BETRAYAL, LOYALTY, FAKE FRIENDS and that famous one, FOUR or is it THREE, what about BONES, Lets not forget SKELETON or even ANOREXIC, let also remember SCREAM, that was a scream..hahah see what I did there! Remember GREY that has a bit of colour and what about BUCK or even DOOR-MAT that was a wipe-off or SUBMISSIVE another popular one. Hmmm...what about HAIR CUT or TOMBOY or DIGITAL those are quite good or WOODGREEN or HULL or DOG that reared its head...woof....woof...hahahah or CEREAL, beats me what that's about or even MONEY..though that never was an issue, how about GOLD-DIGGER just for drama or 50/50 which has been mentioned. Hey! don't forget RED, what to do without that pinking away. So please  Little Hoods, students of the Opposition Department keep with the programme and work on these pointers crack your little brains and write poems like crazy little ants Your contribution is valuable cause persistent is the Key. Keep up with your assignment and forget all other things Oppose, oppose, oppose, work those little brains!
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37
Thank you sir, for everything you have taught me in your honors algebra two class. I do understand that it is important to learn these things and memorize where each variable goes and what to square and what the equation of an ellipse is and I am not being sarcastic But I was hoping maybe you could also teach me the equation to mending things that have been broken?
0
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
The equation of a circle
It’s kinda pointless The purpose was clear as its intention But still, it was kinda pointless It was like when a kid lets go of his balloon. The string slowly evaporates from his hand As he covers his brow looking skyward to the horizon He let go of his first lover because maybe that would make his wishes come true Or maybe he let it go so a part of him could touch God. It was kinda pointless. Our on and off again two month relationship Every two months or so I would create every insecurity that my poetic lips could fabricate Twist and turn on my restless nights in one way street fashion But those other every two months Were magical I could write a million poems about your body if only my hands weren’t too busy touching it I would memorize the way your footsteps walked home incase I ever needed to find you And every song on the radio was our love song But for another two months I let you go officially And I guess that was kinda pointless *** now I pointlessly think aimlessly for why I did it Maybe I just didn’t want to see you evaporate from my hands again Or maybe it’s *** I thought if I let go of my first lover, my wishes would come true Or maybe it’s because when I’m kissing you, I feel like I could touch God And that just scared me But when a kid lets go of a balloon, He thinks he’s done with it, but he knows he’s never gonna get it back. But God, damm it, I want it back. I want a reason to smile and know I’m smiling for a reason I want something to hold my wrist, to go on adventures with Making love with you was never pointless, and no, I don’t regret it. In fact, it was flawless. And I’d be skipping for days, waiting to do it again But the feeling was lost. We let it evaporate from our hands. We let our emotions escalade and we lost it. Sacrificed it to a summer’s day Watched it float into one of God’s crevices Letting go you, was like letting go of a balloon. I’m forced to watch it drift away but I never, ever, really saw it pop. When you let go of a balloon, it kisses the sky. So I kissed you good-bye in hopes you will reach new heights.
0
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC
Balloons
It’s kinda pointless The purpose was clear as its intention But still, it was kinda pointless It was like when a kid lets go of his balloon. The string slowly evaporates from his hand As he covers his brow looking skyward to the horizon He let go of his first lover because maybe that would make his wishes come true Or maybe he let it go so a part of him could touch God. It was kinda pointless. Our on and off again two month relationship Every two months or so I would create every insecurity that my poetic lips could fabricate Twist and turn on my restless nights in one way street fashion But those other every two months Were magical I could write a million poems about your body if only my hands weren’t too busy touching it I would memorize the way your footsteps walked home incase I ever needed to find you And every song on the radio was our love song But for another two months I let you go officially And I guess that was kinda pointless *** now I pointlessly think aimlessly for why I did it Maybe I just didn’t want to see you evaporate from my hands again Or maybe it’s *** I thought if I let go of my first lover, my wishes would come true Or maybe it’s because when I’m kissing you, I feel like I could touch God And that just scared me But when a kid lets go of a balloon, He thinks he’s done with it, but he knows he’s never gonna get it back. But God, damm it, I want it back. I want a reason to smile and know I’m smiling for a reason I want something to hold my wrist, to go on adventures with Making love with you was never pointless, and no, I don’t regret it. In fact, it was flawless. And I’d be skipping for days, waiting to do it again But the feeling was lost. We let it evaporate from our hands. We let our emotions escalade and we lost it. Sacrificed it to a summer’s day Watched it float into one of God’s crevices Letting go you, was like letting go of a balloon. I’m forced to watch it drift away but I never, ever, really saw it pop. When you let go of a balloon, it kisses the sky. So I kissed you good-bye in hopes you will reach new heights.
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40
I trace the memories kept behind like fingerprints. The love we had is now crushed and swept away by a wave of our indolence and insanity. I go back to the time of sadness, Because it was the sadness of her eyes the made me happy happy happy and somewhat sane… All I have left are the mental photographs of what happened and of wanting what could have been. I leave now with all the things that I traced—things that can never be erased like fingerprints that never ever had changed. I sit here alone in this disease-ridden couch, with my disease-ridden hope. And I will memorize your eyes, blinking to the rhythm of you heartbeat, dancing in a starlit daydream—as I am wishing of a memory where you gave me everything you had and where I offered you the pieces that were left of me. I kept all memories of you in a heart-shaped box, where it is slowly crumbling as time goes by. I kept all your secrets, your playbook, your cards, your broken cassettes and cigarettes our now and always, your sad eyes and the happiness you had and which made me smile again. So maybe fingerprints and memories share a common thing. They say that “good things happen to those who wait”, I’d say keep on waiting, ******** I have been waiting, and still all I’ve traced is the measurements of my indolence and insanity. So yeah, keep on waiting.
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
And Fingerprints Have Memories Too
I want to be intimate with you Not bare bodied and touching But a different sort I want to see your soul as it is Stripped down into nothing Your demons in their raw existence I want to hold each one on its own Until I can understand how it feels to live them I want to hear your voice scratchy and strained at 3am And listen as words fall from your mouth into mine Late night thoughts and questions I want to learn your mind like it is the only book I will ever read Memorize it top to bottom like it is my bible You are enough religion for me to understand why we're here I want to understand you I want your dreams to come to me like I can make them real Tell me your secrets like I am the journal you have been hoping to find The empty pages you have been waiting to fill your whole life I want to know it all I want to know your fears Your worries Your happiness And everything that keeps you up at night I want to be the thing that keeps you up at night I want to be the morning sun that you cannot wait to wake to And when you do, I will continue to get to know you better I don't need your hands on me Or your skin against mine To be close to you The best form of intimacy Is loving someone without knowing how it feels To touch them without clothes on The best form of intimacy Is realizing you can open yourself up completey without holding anything back The best form of intimacy Is laughing and not caring at all how you sound The best form of intimacy Is talking for minutes that turn into hours that turn into tomorrow The best form of intimacy Is time spent wasting The best form of intimacy Is moments Is patience Is devotion and commitment With no guarantee of satisfaction It is surrender It is vulnerability It is now The best form of intimacy Is quiescence It is the purest method Of affection.
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
Intimacy
I want to be intimate with you Not bare bodied and touching But a different sort I want to see your soul as it is Stripped down into nothing Your demons in their raw existence I want to hold each one on its own Until I can understand how it feels to live them I want to hear your voice scratchy and strained at 3am And listen as words fall from your mouth into mine Late night thoughts and questions I want to learn your mind like it is the only book I will ever read Memorize it top to bottom like it is my bible You are enough religion for me to understand why we're here I want to understand you I want your dreams to come to me like I can make them real Tell me your secrets like I am the journal you have been hoping to find The empty pages you have been waiting to fill your whole life I want to know it all I want to know your fears Your worries Your happiness And everything that keeps you up at night I want to be the thing that keeps you up at night I want to be the morning sun that you cannot wait to wake to And when you do, I will continue to get to know you better I don't need your hands on me Or your skin against mine To be close to you The best form of intimacy Is loving someone without knowing how it feels To touch them without clothes on The best form of intimacy Is realizing you can open yourself up completey without holding anything back The best form of intimacy Is laughing and not caring at all how you sound The best form of intimacy Is talking for minutes that turn into hours that turn into tomorrow The best form of intimacy Is time spent wasting The best form of intimacy Is moments Is patience Is devotion and commitment With no guarantee of satisfaction It is surrender It is vulnerability It is now The best form of intimacy Is quiescence It is the purest method Of affection.
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53
As a college freshman I find myself time traveling. I close my eyes and I appear in the classroom where a group of over-confident, lazy, too smart for their own **** good students stood on the precipice between leaving and staying regretting and dreaming. Leaving would give us freedom Leaving would fill the creases of our palms with sweat We kept our palms outstretched and empty not daring to grasp anymore of home because the weight would only anchor us to the vines we spent 13 years unraveling from our ankles. Maybe we should not have been so eager to leave, maybe this is a mistake. The girl with the mermaid hair The boy with books stacked in a corner of his desk They both, we all, sat dreaming about the same thing while Ophelia drowned herself in the river Shores of the ocean and city skylines Classrooms that did not feel like cages and eyes that did not reflect a memory every time you glanced into them In a high school English class, a group of over-confident, lazy, too smart for their own **** good students, stood terrified and mystified stood united in there persistence to become something more than test scores and the ability to memorize facts. Fact: Some mornings I walk to class and I can feel the girl with the mermaid hair in Los Angeles walking beside me and when I sit down I can see books stacked on a corner of a desk somewhere in Berkeley. I wonder if they wake in their bed and hear airplane engines roaring somewhere above a valley. The engines roar with warning. sometimes it sounds like hope. Baby, something is coming, we promise We all began at the start, dreaming as one and fearing as one Today, she is five spaces forward He is ten spaces forward The others are halfway down the **** board and I find myself back at the start every few weeks. Four spaces forward then three spaces back-- I don't know where I am going. But I know where I have been. I open my eyes. A college freshman. I hear the engines roar above me. Something is coming.
0
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
college freshman.
As a college freshman I find myself time traveling. I close my eyes and I appear in the classroom where a group of over-confident, lazy, too smart for their own **** good students stood on the precipice between leaving and staying regretting and dreaming. Leaving would give us freedom Leaving would fill the creases of our palms with sweat We kept our palms outstretched and empty not daring to grasp anymore of home because the weight would only anchor us to the vines we spent 13 years unraveling from our ankles. Maybe we should not have been so eager to leave, maybe this is a mistake. The girl with the mermaid hair The boy with books stacked in a corner of his desk They both, we all, sat dreaming about the same thing while Ophelia drowned herself in the river Shores of the ocean and city skylines Classrooms that did not feel like cages and eyes that did not reflect a memory every time you glanced into them In a high school English class, a group of over-confident, lazy, too smart for their own **** good students, stood terrified and mystified stood united in there persistence to become something more than test scores and the ability to memorize facts. Fact: Some mornings I walk to class and I can feel the girl with the mermaid hair in Los Angeles walking beside me and when I sit down I can see books stacked on a corner of a desk somewhere in Berkeley. I wonder if they wake in their bed and hear airplane engines roaring somewhere above a valley. The engines roar with warning. sometimes it sounds like hope. Baby, something is coming, we promise We all began at the start, dreaming as one and fearing as one Today, she is five spaces forward He is ten spaces forward The others are halfway down the **** board and I find myself back at the start every few weeks. Four spaces forward then three spaces back-- I don't know where I am going. But I know where I have been. I open my eyes. A college freshman. I hear the engines roar above me. Something is coming.
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62
Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, I have lost my sense of smell. Her scent will no longer tease my nose toward her, I will never smell perfume, sweat, or *** flowering aromatic recall - the strongest recall of memory is lost. Soon, like puddles in the hot sun, she will begin to dissipate. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, I have forgotten how to see. The sweet beautiful curves in her face, her smile, her brilliant body, her great bright eyes, if only I had made the time to memorize it. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, my tongue has gone dumb. Chocolates and ash, all tastes the same. I no longer want to eat, it all tastes of grey. Never again will taste her lips or her tears. I will never say, I love you again. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, my ears can no longer find sound. I will never be comforted by her sweet calls or pet names. Music will no longer touch my heart. No one will ever yell at me or sing to me. I will never hear, "I love you" again. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, today, I have lost my ability to feel. I will never be hugged close and snuggled. She will never kiss me under mistletoe or on new years, or ever at all. I will never make love again, feel her silky skin against mine, or an ******** release. Fire cannot warm my soul anymore. And nothing will cool the burning in my head. I am blind, deaf, and dumb.  I hear nothing.  I feel nothing.  I am numb.
0
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 12:22 PM UTC
Today is the saddest day of my life
Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, I have lost my sense of smell. Her scent will no longer tease my nose toward her, I will never smell perfume, sweat, or *** flowering aromatic recall - the strongest recall of memory is lost. Soon, like puddles in the hot sun, she will begin to dissipate. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, I have forgotten how to see. The sweet beautiful curves in her face, her smile, her brilliant body, her great bright eyes, if only I had made the time to memorize it. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, my tongue has gone dumb. Chocolates and ash, all tastes the same. I no longer want to eat, it all tastes of grey. Never again will taste her lips or her tears. I will never say, I love you again. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, my ears can no longer find sound. I will never be comforted by her sweet calls or pet names. Music will no longer touch my heart. No one will ever yell at me or sing to me. I will never hear, "I love you" again. Today is the saddest day of my life. Sad because, today, I have lost my ability to feel. I will never be hugged close and snuggled. She will never kiss me under mistletoe or on new years, or ever at all. I will never make love again, feel her silky skin against mine, or an ******** release. Fire cannot warm my soul anymore. And nothing will cool the burning in my head. I am blind, deaf, and dumb.  I hear nothing.  I feel nothing.  I am numb.
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32
If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'Hopter' to go above the clouds Shout all my pains and get out from the crowd, Wait for the rain and see the lightning strike the ground. If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'anywhere door' to travel around the world Oh, I'll bring my wardrobe, my lover, my bed and even my dog With one step, I can go anywhere and  write it on my blog. If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'copying toast' to get different certifications I'll memorize Merriam, Websters, Harry Potter and have an oration I'll be the smartest person alive and wait I can feel the mutation! If Doraemon is real, I'll use his 'dress up camera' to get all all the dress that I want I'm going to wear Gucci, Prada, Channel and even Dolce and Gabbana I'll be more than the Hollywood stars, yeah I don't need Santa. But Doraemon is not real, He's not even mine, he is Nobita's childhood best friend. That show taught me a great lesson - you don't need any gadget to be happy, to have friends, to be satisfied or to feel loved.
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
Doraemon
Exquisite Unique Become what you seek What is complete? How deep is your deep? Experience each moment You've earned it own it Fractal Vibrations one component Love comes from the soul Penetrate fills hatreds holes Twisting time with rhythmic rhyme Reading signs put in these lines Witness all the mental smoke Instigator stab and poke Give it all till I'm broke Passion hitting in one big stroke Time to come alive Elevate each other we'll thrive More than survive Unknown we can dive Vibrate till I turn to dust Never taste the center eat my crust In rhymes I trust..so full I bust Flow so fluid I'll never rust Now I can be flashy..tell a tale Not a one hundred percent sometimes I fail Pierce my heart with a rusty nail Darkness takes over but love prevails Imagination stretch..memorize every turn Set fire to your mind feel the burn Knowledge from pain is how we learn Balance will reward you with what you earn Wisdom doesn't flow from all that speak Truths are hidden which is why we seek We all must climb to reach your peak Creates who we are..Exquisite...Unique!!
0
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Exquisite..Unique
I want to know how many scars you have And memorize the shape of your tongue. I want to climb the curve of your lower back And count your vertebrae Your ribs Your fingers Your goose bumps I want to chart the topography of your anatomy And be fluent in your body language I want you, entire
0
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
I Want You Entire
You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because, in one of the spun sugar fragile sequences of the events in your life, it works out. There is a place, somewhere amidst star stuff and cosmic collisions, where you are not the problem daughter or the biggest disappointment or the most regretted kiss. There is a place where you sink into a desk in your eight a.m. class and a boy with bags under his eyes and a hole-y sweater pulled over his knuckles says, "hi." There is a place where your father comes back from the war with sand grit in his eyes, blood under his fingernails and lets you save him.  There is a place where you live in India, where you aren't afraid to love, where everything hurts less, where you stopped punishing yourself for the faults of your parents. You are a girl. Not a dart board or a guilty verdict or the final, desperate ****** of a sword through someone's chest. You are made of the same stuff as Marie Antoinette and Catherine the Great and Elizabeth, and you can command the winds too. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because no one ever asked you about the scars on your thighs but that doesn't make them nonexistent or unimportant. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because you've grown: stronger in some ways and weaker in others, but you are still a result of rhapsodies in violet and trees bowed to the sea and soldiers with wind burn on their cheeks. Tonight, you are going to wrap your own arms around your own chest and breathe, swaying silently to no music. You are going to memorize the sound of silence, and you are going to listen hard for the even, jagged, pitter patter of your heart. You are going to thank your body for waging war against itself, you are going to apologize to your head for bruising your heart. You are going to feel the roughness of the floor and the vastness of the entire world and all of the eventualities spread before you. You are going to remember that this is only one, that atoms and molecules are flighty, whimsical, prone to selfishness and longing for the promise of stability. You are going to press your lips to your own wrists and know, as surely as Anne Boleyn knew when she walked to the guillotine, that no one can save you but yourself. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because you are not an accident of the multiverse. You are purposeful and beautiful and young and reckless with your feelings, but you are not a mistake. Listen to the trembling of your heartbeat and breathe. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight.
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
Why You Aren't Going to **** Yourself Tonight
You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because, in one of the spun sugar fragile sequences of the events in your life, it works out. There is a place, somewhere amidst star stuff and cosmic collisions, where you are not the problem daughter or the biggest disappointment or the most regretted kiss. There is a place where you sink into a desk in your eight a.m. class and a boy with bags under his eyes and a hole-y sweater pulled over his knuckles says, "hi." There is a place where your father comes back from the war with sand grit in his eyes, blood under his fingernails and lets you save him.  There is a place where you live in India, where you aren't afraid to love, where everything hurts less, where you stopped punishing yourself for the faults of your parents. You are a girl. Not a dart board or a guilty verdict or the final, desperate ****** of a sword through someone's chest. You are made of the same stuff as Marie Antoinette and Catherine the Great and Elizabeth, and you can command the winds too. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because no one ever asked you about the scars on your thighs but that doesn't make them nonexistent or unimportant. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because you've grown: stronger in some ways and weaker in others, but you are still a result of rhapsodies in violet and trees bowed to the sea and soldiers with wind burn on their cheeks. Tonight, you are going to wrap your own arms around your own chest and breathe, swaying silently to no music. You are going to memorize the sound of silence, and you are going to listen hard for the even, jagged, pitter patter of your heart. You are going to thank your body for waging war against itself, you are going to apologize to your head for bruising your heart. You are going to feel the roughness of the floor and the vastness of the entire world and all of the eventualities spread before you. You are going to remember that this is only one, that atoms and molecules are flighty, whimsical, prone to selfishness and longing for the promise of stability. You are going to press your lips to your own wrists and know, as surely as Anne Boleyn knew when she walked to the guillotine, that no one can save you but yourself. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight because you are not an accident of the multiverse. You are purposeful and beautiful and young and reckless with your feelings, but you are not a mistake. Listen to the trembling of your heartbeat and breathe. You aren't going to **** yourself tonight.
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42
If I were a cup of black coffee you take me just the way I am. If this were a thanksgiving dinner you'd be the turkey and I'd be the ham. I'm the water and you're the sea I'm the sailor and what I really mean is; you complete me.  If this were a battery you'd be the positives and I'd be the negatives. If I were a holiday you'd be the festive's. If this were space you'd be the stars that form my galaxy. If I were a driver in New York, you'd be my taxi. If I a flower and you the bee, then it's clear to see that what I really mean is; you complete me. One ways, u-turns, dead ends and yields, green lights, left lane merge and a squashed bug on my windshields. If I were a Bic ballpoint pen then you would write out every sin. If this were it, it would be the greatest love there has ever been. Road signs and paper, fantasies and nature cannot help to say in such a little way that all I try to convey that what I really mean is; you complete me. If I were a song you'd memorize my lyrics  If this were February 1990 it would be Hold On by Wilson Phillips If I were a comic book, you'd be my nerd. If you were a photographer I'd be your bird.  If I a cold night and you the book by a fire, then I'd be the Hobbit and you'd be my Shire. If I a cup and you the tea then all there is left to say is...
0
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
Complete: A Valentines Day Poem
I hadn't cried in years. I was always taught that strength was not having the courage to let yourself feel but ******* it up, holding it in. I am sick of "You're going soft on us, honey" Today I came to understand that you are completely okay with writing the same poem over and over again. This is a metaphor for the way you ****** her in my bed. This is a metaphor for the night you copy and pasted love letters. This is a metaphor for what really happened- I never fall in the same place twice. Except when I do. I think the critical difference between the two of us, critical because there are many differences but- I think our hamartia, our fatal flaw, our end scene is this: if people didn't like my poetry, if nobody listened, if I walked out on stage and nobody snapped their fingers, I would still write for just your eyes. I would still cramp my crooked, birth defect, quadruple jointed fingers writing to you about the nights you loved me back, for a minute there you loved me back. And you loved 20,000 other people back. And you loved small towns back and big cities back and the entire west coast back when you drove through, making temporary homes out of people who should have been permanent and I loved you. And I hadn't cried in years. Not because I wasn't sad, but because I was taught that showing emotion was weakness. So if my father made me memorize the How To's of strength, if I were going by the book, today I'd be so fragile you could say hello and I'd shatter so suddenly you'd forget you were the one that let go.
0
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
don't snap
I hadn't cried in years. I was always taught that strength was not having the courage to let yourself feel but ******* it up, holding it in. I am sick of "You're going soft on us, honey" Today I came to understand that you are completely okay with writing the same poem over and over again. This is a metaphor for the way you ****** her in my bed. This is a metaphor for the night you copy and pasted love letters. This is a metaphor for what really happened- I never fall in the same place twice. Except when I do. I think the critical difference between the two of us, critical because there are many differences but- I think our hamartia, our fatal flaw, our end scene is this: if people didn't like my poetry, if nobody listened, if I walked out on stage and nobody snapped their fingers, I would still write for just your eyes. I would still cramp my crooked, birth defect, quadruple jointed fingers writing to you about the nights you loved me back, for a minute there you loved me back. And you loved 20,000 other people back. And you loved small towns back and big cities back and the entire west coast back when you drove through, making temporary homes out of people who should have been permanent and I loved you. And I hadn't cried in years. Not because I wasn't sad, but because I was taught that showing emotion was weakness. So if my father made me memorize the How To's of strength, if I were going by the book, today I'd be so fragile you could say hello and I'd shatter so suddenly you'd forget you were the one that let go.
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36
Until now I thought that I was over you. But I realized that I was not. I have not been able to wear my red hoodie. The one that I used to wear when we were walking together. The one were you would put your hand up my sleeve and hold my hand. The one with our memorize. So I wore it for three days in a row to convince myself that I am over you. Mission accomplished.
0
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Mission accomplished
i. He stared at the woman, eyes darting to memorize her angles and features,   at any moment this mirage could disappear. For two full minutes he was unable to speak, too scared to let words loose; they can no longer be hidden once they’ve been exposed. So he kissed her instead, because he liked how it felt to no longer feel alone. ii. The grip of loneliness refused to let her go, like the claws of a jealous lover. “One thing for certain, there is no god. We are completely alone, love is ******** “What if I showed you that you are not alone, how would it change your life?” “I think I might actually be happy.” “You are happy when you let yourself be…there is this…fire inside of you,  but every time the momentum starts to build you tell yourself whatever you need to hear to keep it from taking you.” iii. “Why the hell are you starting this with me? This isn’t right.” “Who says I’m starting anything?” “Oh, you’re one of ‘those’ guys.” “What are ‘those’ guys?” “The type of guy who pretends that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and doesn’t admit to what he’s doing so he can play innocent when he’s called to the carpet. But in reality,  he knows exactly what he is doing, and most of it is premeditated.” “Like ****** “Yeah, something like that. There is a good chance something or someone could die in this scenario.” iv. They laid still for a while, trying to catch their breath. “I think your parents named you after the wrong Craig Finn character.” “Oh, yeah?” “They should have called you Hallelujah, because you sound like an angel when you *** She smiled and she kissed him and they made love again, and she felt like an angel. v. He started out the door and turned, lifting his shy head to look at her “As far as I’m concerned, you are the only one I’ve ever slept with.” She stopped breathing, afraid to believe the nouns and verbs that were floating.   She repeated the sentence out loud after he walked away. They were the most loving, pure and perfect words she had ever heard.
0
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Jimi and Mango i
i. He stared at the woman, eyes darting to memorize her angles and features,   at any moment this mirage could disappear. For two full minutes he was unable to speak, too scared to let words loose; they can no longer be hidden once they’ve been exposed. So he kissed her instead, because he liked how it felt to no longer feel alone. ii. The grip of loneliness refused to let her go, like the claws of a jealous lover. “One thing for certain, there is no god. We are completely alone, love is ******** “What if I showed you that you are not alone, how would it change your life?” “I think I might actually be happy.” “You are happy when you let yourself be…there is this…fire inside of you,  but every time the momentum starts to build you tell yourself whatever you need to hear to keep it from taking you.” iii. “Why the hell are you starting this with me? This isn’t right.” “Who says I’m starting anything?” “Oh, you’re one of ‘those’ guys.” “What are ‘those’ guys?” “The type of guy who pretends that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and doesn’t admit to what he’s doing so he can play innocent when he’s called to the carpet. But in reality,  he knows exactly what he is doing, and most of it is premeditated.” “Like ****** “Yeah, something like that. There is a good chance something or someone could die in this scenario.” iv. They laid still for a while, trying to catch their breath. “I think your parents named you after the wrong Craig Finn character.” “Oh, yeah?” “They should have called you Hallelujah, because you sound like an angel when you *** She smiled and she kissed him and they made love again, and she felt like an angel. v. He started out the door and turned, lifting his shy head to look at her “As far as I’m concerned, you are the only one I’ve ever slept with.” She stopped breathing, afraid to believe the nouns and verbs that were floating.   She repeated the sentence out loud after he walked away. They were the most loving, pure and perfect words she had ever heard.
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40
i tried to memorize everything about you not knowing when i would see you again but the only thing i remember is the look in your green eyes
0
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 12:58 PM UTC
a little bit confused ~ 51