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"outshone" poems
You, moon of flesh and bone You, moon of magic and charm You, moon of wit and art You butterfly You have outshone all the stars in the sky And brought darkness to my life You have blurred the golden sun And dimmed the silver moon
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
Dimmed Moon
Every piece of pride, Pivoting on the pinnacle of pleasure, Perishing on the petals of a rose, Pink rose. Spring rose. Sprung rose. A perverted willingness to pursue, The spoils of what matters most, pink matter. Outshone a impossibly beautiful performance. One meant for the faithful & virtuous.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:41 PM UTC
Pink
Once The sun was beautiful. She moved with the sky and never ceased to shine, But She soon became ill. Tired of herself. The moon watched her every night, grow to dim more and more. The moon whispered to her each night "Why so beautiful but so sad? WHy have you stopped shining my favorite star? The sun dimmer and cracked her once melodic voice now in comparison of sand paper, yet fragile as a leaf in Fall. "I've simply forgotten the beauty of myself." Each night the moon would cry. his tears making the most beautiful stars. He would tell the sun his tears reminded him of her exquisite beauty. She would only sigh and remain dim, for she could not see his love if she did not love herself. The pain and torture of inner hate did what all pain does. It began to **** the once beautiful sun. The moon would call to her still, and show her his stars but she could no longer look For they outshone her each and every night So she hid And she cried And she weakened The sky screamed for her, cracking the grounds, Crashing the waves Moaning in the loss of their sun And when she died the earth went still The sky made no sound, created no catastrophe But the moon The moon screamed earthquakes that split the world in two Howled Winds that confused nature of its purpose Cried oceans that grew deeper the more his sorrow filled them When we came to the moon and asked Why he cried oceans and screamed earthquakes He sat In molded Silence And stared where she once rose each dawn He claimed she was once beautiful in a sorrowful timeless voice. Who? His love. He told us of her glimmering smile that awoke the world gently each dawn He told of her shining hair that reached the very farthest and darkest parts of the earth and welcomed what it touched with warmth and love He told us how she would dance across the sky as though it was her partner And then He told of her in a different way Where she no longer glimmered and shined Her scent no longer of summer, but of a sick winters child Her hair, pale and dead Her skin ashen as though a blow of the wind and she would disappear like dust She no longer danced, but hid, sauntered, concealed her beauty from even herself He told us why the stars were so vast, that each night he cried and mourned her and his tears made the most beautiful stars He bestowed millions to her each night, telling her their beauty was in no comparison to hers But she would only sigh and turn away When he ended his tell tale of broken love We had become stone in his garden of aching hearts And again he turned his back to us and moaned to the universe that made each planet, star, galaxy, bow its head in sorrow for his lost love He begged, pleaded, for her He begged into eternity, with only silence to greet his presence And when every star, galaxy, and planet had died he remained Calling for her Wishing to see her dance through his no longer existent sky When he finally gave in he fell from the universe into oblivion A stone moon that died with an aching heart.
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
Moon Shine
Once The sun was beautiful. She moved with the sky and never ceased to shine, But She soon became ill. Tired of herself. The moon watched her every night, grow to dim more and more. The moon whispered to her each night "Why so beautiful but so sad? WHy have you stopped shining my favorite star? The sun dimmer and cracked her once melodic voice now in comparison of sand paper, yet fragile as a leaf in Fall. "I've simply forgotten the beauty of myself." Each night the moon would cry. his tears making the most beautiful stars. He would tell the sun his tears reminded him of her exquisite beauty. She would only sigh and remain dim, for she could not see his love if she did not love herself. The pain and torture of inner hate did what all pain does. It began to **** the once beautiful sun. The moon would call to her still, and show her his stars but she could no longer look For they outshone her each and every night So she hid And she cried And she weakened The sky screamed for her, cracking the grounds, Crashing the waves Moaning in the loss of their sun And when she died the earth went still The sky made no sound, created no catastrophe But the moon The moon screamed earthquakes that split the world in two Howled Winds that confused nature of its purpose Cried oceans that grew deeper the more his sorrow filled them When we came to the moon and asked Why he cried oceans and screamed earthquakes He sat In molded Silence And stared where she once rose each dawn He claimed she was once beautiful in a sorrowful timeless voice. Who? His love. He told us of her glimmering smile that awoke the world gently each dawn He told of her shining hair that reached the very farthest and darkest parts of the earth and welcomed what it touched with warmth and love He told us how she would dance across the sky as though it was her partner And then He told of her in a different way Where she no longer glimmered and shined Her scent no longer of summer, but of a sick winters child Her hair, pale and dead Her skin ashen as though a blow of the wind and she would disappear like dust She no longer danced, but hid, sauntered, concealed her beauty from even herself He told us why the stars were so vast, that each night he cried and mourned her and his tears made the most beautiful stars He bestowed millions to her each night, telling her their beauty was in no comparison to hers But she would only sigh and turn away When he ended his tell tale of broken love We had become stone in his garden of aching hearts And again he turned his back to us and moaned to the universe that made each planet, star, galaxy, bow its head in sorrow for his lost love He begged, pleaded, for her He begged into eternity, with only silence to greet his presence And when every star, galaxy, and planet had died he remained Calling for her Wishing to see her dance through his no longer existent sky When he finally gave in he fell from the universe into oblivion A stone moon that died with an aching heart.
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The lily of life, full of humility and devotion - the beautiful kind that everyone would choose to pick from the fields I think you'll find. One who defied the definition of a heroic inspiration, your talent outshone all others; you caused quite the sensation. You tenaciously grasped onto your stem of life with the insidious poison of demise within your cells rife, your colours darkening and fading away, and yet you remained God's most beautiful creation each and every day. As your petals fluttered down, by your side was your wife while you heart-wrenchingly closed the circle of your life. Now, we all shall miss watching you bloom through the days and we will remember you, forever and ALWAYS .
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Alan; our Lily of Life
My dreams are an interstellar spaceship (gotta admit, that's pretty hip). I close my eyes and they take me far beyond the reaches of the farthest star. There I sit and ponder all the cosmic wonder of life, love, luck and chance, and all sorts of circumstance. I look to the stars and see hopes of life in natural beauty. Every path a new possibility, my wishes come near reality. I look to the dark and see my fears pooling in abyssal sea. Undisturbed, they're left alone, for by my hopes, they are outshone. To me alone belongs this view, but my dreams were built for two. Alone, I feel the cold, long for you to hold. Come with me, I'll let you see all the universe in majesty. My dreams are an interstellar spaceship. Won't you join me on this trip?
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Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 1:26 AM UTC
My dreams are an interstellar spaceship
Nothing...had enchanted me more, than that big yellow rose... bright, stunning at the tip of its tall stem, soft petals.....yet to fully unfurl, its inner part...a soothing light shaded swirl... i sniffed a bit of its fragrance, and felt its softness...but, i got pricked by a hidden thorn, --- just a tiny puncture...yet, my finger bled so much... --- i walked on through the garden, ...with my pricked finger inside my mouth, i was amazed by other flowers, more colorful ones, but, the yellow, pink, red roses outshone them all... with care this time, i touched a big pink, slowly.........and, again, i didn't see, another thorn was in the way --- it was more painful it bled even more... --- i stood thinking, while bleeding... its beauty, its silky feel...its fragrance that lingers in the mind would all be difficult to resist, the pain from the thorns...harder to forget, but, i'd still want to walk through this vast garden....live this life...and seek those roses feel them...be inspired...over and over --- never mind the spikes! never mind the pain! --- love is beautiful like a rose a rose is beautiful like genuine love, there are thorns...hindrances and hurdles, that come with its beauty....yet, that wonderful feeling of loving, and being loved, in return, the wanting, the longing for it, never dies...the fear of bleeding, is ignored, --- for, what is life without love? and what is love without pain? --- isn't love lovelier...more hopeful the next time around? --- a rose could never be a rose without its many thorns... --- Sally ©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 11, 2018
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
Rose Garden
Nothing...had enchanted me more, than that big yellow rose... bright, stunning at the tip of its tall stem, soft petals.....yet to fully unfurl, its inner part...a soothing light shaded swirl... i sniffed a bit of its fragrance, and felt its softness...but, i got pricked by a hidden thorn, --- just a tiny puncture...yet, my finger bled so much... --- i walked on through the garden, ...with my pricked finger inside my mouth, i was amazed by other flowers, more colorful ones, but, the yellow, pink, red roses outshone them all... with care this time, i touched a big pink, slowly.........and, again, i didn't see, another thorn was in the way --- it was more painful it bled even more... --- i stood thinking, while bleeding... its beauty, its silky feel...its fragrance that lingers in the mind would all be difficult to resist, the pain from the thorns...harder to forget, but, i'd still want to walk through this vast garden....live this life...and seek those roses feel them...be inspired...over and over --- never mind the spikes! never mind the pain! --- love is beautiful like a rose a rose is beautiful like genuine love, there are thorns...hindrances and hurdles, that come with its beauty....yet, that wonderful feeling of loving, and being loved, in return, the wanting, the longing for it, never dies...the fear of bleeding, is ignored, --- for, what is life without love? and what is love without pain? --- isn't love lovelier...more hopeful the next time around? --- a rose could never be a rose without its many thorns... --- Sally ©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 11, 2018
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57
wings on barbed wire wave me hello as the train travels supernova explosion through downtown. we have spoken words that meant something, that gripped iron ends onto our ankles and kept us close. in shackles, we outshone the entire galaxy. in chains, we sped through the world catching wind of bleeding bird feet—the sweet chips and chirps now reverberate symphony through thick plastic. And I am on top of you licking your pores like charcoal.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
Untitled
a gathering; parietal. upon the hill. where truth beguiled, and brightened by the suns of gods; crucified... somehow outshone by the light of our skin. where the dagger rests, now sleeping in the flesh; the blood of martyrs was not enough for the black sky over Golgotha. oh father, forgive us for we know not what we do.
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Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
pontius pilate
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos. VIRGIL. Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d! Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted, To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught. Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d, To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray. I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone. Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d; Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d. Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you: Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest. To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll! Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me, More dear is the beam of the past to my soul! But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, “Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
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On A Distant View Of The Village And School Of Harrow On The Hill, 1806
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos. VIRGIL. Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d! Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted, To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught. Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d, To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray. I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone. Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d; Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d. Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you: Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest. To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll! Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me, More dear is the beam of the past to my soul! But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, “Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
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The pretty face she had - always outshone the stars Never believed in shooting stars, but cars & money Her eyes were like a mirror, I always saw my reflection through them The passion that she had within always pushed me, us, her & made our love better We walked through the fire, but we never got cremated. Her touch moved my soul in ways I couldn't describe. She held this certain feel to her, it wasn't good nor was it bad, you couldn't bring yourself to function. The way she sung my name kept me awake with the moon and the stars in a constant reply, no. By: ofentse_tsie & dvniel
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Nostalgia
Shooting stars fell in a line and danced across my eyes in quick succession though the sun outshone them all and who ever worshiped the stars anyway? Then like fireflies flew north before broke, and from the south I saw the great Diamond City reach out above a jungle of metal concrete plastic plastic with lights Oh! lights Pinprick window TV stream style smiles selling streets projecting the moon for advertising space; the population rises Factory stormclouds only irritate umbrella stand footsteps who pretend to hate the rain and outshines dim sunlight baptizing all in electric glory Candleflame prisons of light that honk through haze through rainy Monday 6:30AM’s choke on each others breath until we have nothing left but CO2; dandelions inherit the earth.
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
Shattering the Diamond City
There was once a girl who outshone the stars the beauty within her was so great eyes could go blind from the blaze. So deep and profound she changed the world with a few words and radiated as brightly as the sun. Then the fierce fire was extinguished like a lightbulb going off. She struggled to ignite her fire and sparks flew but no greatness begun. She remembered the times when she felt bigger than the universe but mighty she felt no longer she no longer outshone the stars.
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
The Girl Who Outshone The Stars
the night we watched two candles burn, it was moonless and starless and that accentuated the fires. i remember you said, with the breeze combing your hair, that our love was just like two candles. i agreed, as it seemed then the flames of our passion and desire were similar to the candles - restlessly burning. we kept silent after, admiring the symbols of our love both their wax bodies melting in rhythm. you said, we will be beside each other forever. and a poetic couple we were, i noted how the melted wax conjoined the two candles and you said our love brought light to others. the flames extinguished simultaneously, shortly after, and in a unanimous duet, as if pre-planned, we whispered: 'till death do us part'. last night, it was me with two candles though, with a gleaming moon and a dozen stars that stole the attention and outshone the two. and while the flames still faded simultaneously, it was extinguished only by the saltiness of tears belonging to a broken lover and the mercilessness of your absence.
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Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
the night we watched two candles burn
I glance to my side to see my mirror image. She looks just like me. But there are small differences. And it really shows who's the better one. Her hair is longer, her skin is clearer she's taller and thinner. Her body is more complete and smaller. She's lovely. Mother calls her wise and intelligent. She's the favorite. I sit in my corner. I always fail, never could compare. My candle was outshone by the brilliance of her star. I love her. I have to, and I admire her. ... But I hate her too. I've always been her inferior. And I hate it because I know she's right. Always is. I want to break her perfection. But that would break her too. As perfect as she is, being broken is not for her. It would hurt her too much. It would be unfair to her. ... I may hate my other half But I don't. She's too good for that and I want to protect her. See, You can't hate the one person you really cannot live without. It's impossible. I'll live with her being perfect I can survive in her shadow. I know how to. I've been weak so long that I know I'm strong enough to persevere.
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Distorted mirror
To think I thought I loved the moon. I've lost my lust for starry eyes. I feel no fear of sunny skies. I've fought my way through midnight lies. To think, I thought I loved the moon. The stars, outshone by golden fire, Once made me drunk as cloudy night, But now I see the brilliant light. So now I quit, and will not fight The stars, outshone by golden fire. To think I thought I loved the moon. In daylight now, I start to croon. In warming rays, I start to swoon. And to think, I thought I loved the moon.
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Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 9:22 PM UTC
Daylight
She had a dark soul. Sadness devoured her heart and ate her spirit, Yet she glowed. Bringing light to everything she touched. She had eyes that could darken the depth of the ocean, And a smile that outshone the brightest star. She was sad, But her sadness was beautiful.
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 5:06 AM UTC
Beautiful sadness
she sleeps with every gorgeous star in the night's vast sky but she still feels outshone by the bright smile of the sun each morning
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
and the moon,
The bomb blast tore like a new toy. Science who ranks as distemper outshone the future. Scribes of contemporary fore deliriously notated the torn ligaments. Opiates scream dying life The bomb blast imploded our unspoken rationale short of Humanity.
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 3:45 PM UTC
Investigating Mayhem
When the moon strolls across the sky On the nights I can’t help but feel minute She’s always there Shining with the light the Sun has gifted her Or completely camouflaged into the abyss Not to be seen but felt For several days she does what many of us wish to do Disappear into nothingness Even celestial bodies feel shame The moon brings a sense of comfort nothing else can A sense of familiarity The all-seeing eye of a heavenly mother She watches, understands, and attempts to reach me Her light struggling to illuminate the darkest corner of a room She’s lost the ability to talk eons ago She has seduced the greatest of writers and enamored the saddest of humans I look at her and can’t help but think that I owe her my life but She lacks your tranquil crooked smile Your soft amber eyes The words that melt off your tongue like butter Lips that shush demons away You’ve outshone her You’re the eclipse I’ve been waiting for
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 10:55 PM UTC
Eclipse
this is the story of the sun, who fell in love with the moon, revolving around each other for so long yet never even noticing how they fit together a skinny love so strong it outshone the stars two minds so co-dependent on each other, with no idea what they meant to the other a pair so undeniable it made the planets align when all they had to do was turn around to find their missing piece and on june 21, the moon awoke with a feeling in his gut the sun shone golden upon the whole world for when they met each other's eyes, a spark so bright it stopped the whole world for just a moment but a moment was enough for the moon and the sun to become one
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
eclipse
Here's my little crevice of the world to you. Humidity mischievously enjoys tampering with your hair, And Heat yearns to tint your skin. Rain shares her serenity with us on the sweetest of nights, And dear friend Wind delivers the coolest of breeze. My crevice is not a wonder, nor an attraction, Although it shares the rarest of beauties to rest your eyes on. When the Lady Sun rises, her strength spills and pours over. Clouds dance at her humble arrival, and the stars are outshone- Making way for a sight to see.
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 10:42 PM UTC
My Crevice
*It was a night like any other. Then I saw you. From that moment on, I wanted nothing more to stop and stare at you. It was painful always having to look up to the heavens to meet your gaze. But I endured it all. I constantly wanted to be near you, even if you outshone me in so many ways. I ran towards you. But no matter what I did to get closer, You’d seem much farther away from my grasp. Then finally after so much I had gone through, Finally I caught up with you! I did it. Then I looked again. You weren’t as bright as I thought you would be. I was disappointed. Things weren’t going the way they were supposed to be. I took one final last look at you. Deciding that you weren’t my whole world after all, I looked up. I was surprised to see. You were only one star among millions. You didn’t outshine everything else after all. I was just too blind to see, That you weren’t the only star in the galaxy.*
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
The Star
Once upon a time, I was all about the pretty boys. the kinds that walked me through my dreams, 
the kinds that plucked me from my wreckage like the springtime roses they'd leave on my doorstep. 
 and they kissed me so kindly that falling in love was no longer sacred, and the smolder of victory in their eyes soon outshone our lovely moon. 

but I would wake each morning with names on my lips that evaporated in the daylight, 

and just before I'd go, I'd confess to my bedroom ceiling that i still wanted someone more. And then, by some miracle mapped out in stars, I followed a path that led to you. 

And oh God, music hasn't sounded as sweet since the moment I heard your voice. 

Your laughter chases every nervous beat of my heart, your eyes hold constellations that make it easy enough to feel infinite as long as my gaze stays locked with yours. 

 You make me feel fluorescent, the darkness has never felt so safe. With the memory of you in my near-present, there's no danger I cannot face. 

And I long so stupidly to fold and unfold myself in the spaces between your fingers.

 To taste the gold on your lips would make me the richest in spirit that I have ever been. 

 And I can't deny, it would be heaven to stroke my hands through your hair and whisper while you're close, "oh darling, don't you know, 
you were art long before i began to admire you," 

This ecstasy you give has touched me deep within my bones. 

And I'm shocked you haven't heard this one before, it's a tale as old as time. You linger like the softest whisper in the furthest corners of my mind.
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC
pretty boys & prettier girls.
Once upon a time, I was all about the pretty boys. the kinds that walked me through my dreams, 
the kinds that plucked me from my wreckage like the springtime roses they'd leave on my doorstep. 
 and they kissed me so kindly that falling in love was no longer sacred, and the smolder of victory in their eyes soon outshone our lovely moon. 

but I would wake each morning with names on my lips that evaporated in the daylight, 

and just before I'd go, I'd confess to my bedroom ceiling that i still wanted someone more. And then, by some miracle mapped out in stars, I followed a path that led to you. 

And oh God, music hasn't sounded as sweet since the moment I heard your voice. 

Your laughter chases every nervous beat of my heart, your eyes hold constellations that make it easy enough to feel infinite as long as my gaze stays locked with yours. 

 You make me feel fluorescent, the darkness has never felt so safe. With the memory of you in my near-present, there's no danger I cannot face. 

And I long so stupidly to fold and unfold myself in the spaces between your fingers.

 To taste the gold on your lips would make me the richest in spirit that I have ever been. 

 And I can't deny, it would be heaven to stroke my hands through your hair and whisper while you're close, "oh darling, don't you know, 
you were art long before i began to admire you," 

This ecstasy you give has touched me deep within my bones. 

And I'm shocked you haven't heard this one before, it's a tale as old as time. You linger like the softest whisper in the furthest corners of my mind.
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