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Delaney Dunn May 2014
The night that we stood on those steps I begged for an explanation that I wasn't going to get. Spending months searching for the answers in the sky that I could only find from you didn't teach me how I would have to accept that I was never going to find those answers even with me staring you in the face. I've spent too much time sweeping those feeling under the rug until there wasn't any room for the dust that was your memory. I worried about forgetting you but what scared me more is that I was feeling you forget me and it stung a little more everyday. That night, you told me you were "sorry for everything" but I wasn't sure if you knew what everything was and I wonder if to this day you have any idea what everything actually meant. I ask myself what you imagined when you though about "everything" you were sorry for and I wonder if it included me searching for you at the bottom of bottles only to find that I would forget my own name before I could ever forget yours. I wonder if you knew the kind of damage you had caused but then I realized that you never turned around to check. You lived your life through the rear view mirror and so I wondered what would come of the mess that you left behind but then I realized that that mess was me. I had been the cities that you ran down and the buildings that were abandoned. After that night I started to befriend my sadness and I watched my self destruction set in as I listened to you say you loved me for the last time. If I had known it was the last time I was hearing it I would have asked you to say it again to scream it to whisper it to sing it, to mean it. If I knew this was the last time you would look at me the way you did when I realized I was so desperately in love with you I would have stayed a little longer. Since that night, I have yet to hear a sound that is sweeter than the way you spoke and I have yet to see a sight that is more beautiful than the way your eyes lit up under the street lights. That night I knew that the streets would remember our footsteps so I walked a little slower. Now, when I see those streets I notice that the rain has washed out foot prints away and I find that our imprints were only temporary. And when I felt your heart beat I found that it would only beat for me for the remainder of the night so I tried to hold on I tried to memorize the palpation but I'm afraid I've lost it somewhere within the parts of me you tore down. When that night was over I realized I left you with parts of me I thought I needed and I questioned how I could go on without you. When I tried to forget you I forgot who I was along the way and I couldn't win. That night I stood on those steps and I looked into the eyes of someone I thought I knew I rested my worries into the hands of someone I thought I trusted and I let you tear down my walls even though I knew I wouldn't never be strong enough to rebuild them. I can only imagine what you must have thought when you watched parts of me fall through the floor boards of vacant houses and disappear into the universe and I wonder if you can admit to yourself that you took away my armor and sent me into battle with nothing but scrap metal. I hope that when you look back to the night on those steps that you remember the way I fought for you and I hope you can see that I haven't fought for anything since that night.
When I tried to turn my back to you and run I could only find myself walking, thinking that maybe you'd catch up to me someday. Spending months of waiting up for you to come around only taught me that'd I'd be walking forever so I learned to pace myself, because I'd be walking for a long time.
Sunshine Nov 2014
See, I'm not allowed to go back to the welcome mat called home
Merely because of a boy with green lungs

Bedtime story mouths say you're heading down a path of destruction
But how am I supposed to sit back and let that happen?

Because a way of living they don't approve of,
I am force fed hypocritical helping hands
Moonlit hearts and guilty rules

That palpation in your heart called pain
Does not escape in the form of smoke, blood, or tears.

Listen to me
let my words sit in the crevices of your brain just this once

This is not good for me
Its eating me from the inside out
Leaving the memory of you behind

My heart is reproducing arms
And they are reaching out my chest
Stretching out for miles
Just trying to find you
Joseph D May 2015
the domicile of three generations
not all those labeled grand reside within the walls
the walls so effortlessly visualized within the mind
and within the inner palpation of the body
but a part will forever remain stained
even in new-found renovations
you can be away for a day
or maybe many weeks
but just a new paper on the walls
as you flashback to once dragging fingertips down the lining
of the hallway in which the dimensions are imprinted
a void is created in absence of the tactile sensations
so here I stand on this porch
the edge of my personal universe
an extension of myself built in brick, wood and my own bones
at first woe overtakes and what can be a form of fear
the future disappearance of a home held so dear
comfort resides in my own realizations
when the memories last in my mind
i know to say
home is here
Nick Moser Oct 2016
I've found the true love that I was always looking for.

Right inside my own heart.

Every palpation, a symphony.

Playing my life along.
And now I've love
Banele May 2020
May God show me the way
for I  fled to the edge where I lost my way,
where I am surrounded with logs.

come and rescue me
among the mist of my heart
where they call I have to listen.

does it really talk?
Does it talk with it palpation,
maybe the bathing of blood?

come and rescue me
from the secrets of my heart
as I burn from the high volts of my heart.

come and rescue me
where I needed you I discarded you
I chose my ways away from you.

your etiquette I left alone with biting cold
where grass leeches every page
of your scripture.

I am tamed a sinner as I failed
to tame my tongue as your etiquette
stated .

come and rescue me
for my heart ekes me out.
Evelyn Jan 2016
Between strangers,
the many different faces,
smiling
frowning  
indifferently staring,
you
look right at
me.

With a slight hesitation,
in growing temptation,
my heart's palpation
skips about
a bit,
hereby admitting
the gratification
that flows in my veins
when our eyes meet
and you don't turn away
but rather
curl your lips
a little.

Our bright eyes
and soft sighs
wove themselves
rapid
in to both of our lives,
I realized when we sat
outside waiting
as the rain dries
around us,
fingers intertwined,
clean and
quiet
together.

Between strangers,
the many different faces,
where are
you?
smiling
frowning  
indifferently staring,
there you are
and there she is
and there's that look.

Now we're strangers
with very different faces
whose eyes don't meet.
An Interpretation of Loss and An Ode to Moments Spent In Love
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
Besides

Inspection
Palpation
Percussion
And auscultation
One should spend
More time on
Soul gazing
And that makes all the difference

Read it again
Genre: Clinical Abstract
Theme: Touching Lives Since Then
Nick E Mar 2018
Frozen, frozen i stood in space
Embarking on a  journey unprepared
With a heart quickly changing pace
How could this be?

How was I rendered impaired?
Questions, a million questions ran through my head
Trapped in plethora of thoughts with nowhere to flee
They say before you die your life flashes before your eyes
But I was well alive and no blood was being shed
Instead it ran through my veins like an unchained greyhound
Racing an endless track trying to catch a prize
How could this be?

Is this a dream? Am I in bed?
To which reality am I bound?
Silence, silence was all that prevailed
Like an operation room with a surgeon about to incise
Immobile exteriorly, erupting interiorly
With a flood of emotions my body was assailed
Warm and cold, fast and slow, ennemies and allies
How could this be?

Could a drug have hindered my movements?
Is this all a hallucination?
What substance could cause such a rush?
What dream could cause such palpation?
So there i was, filled with thoughts to amaze
Confused, uncertain, my body leading me astray
Ready to quit, with a stomach light as hay
There could only be one explanation
Frozen, frozen I was, by her gaze...
Let me know your thoughts
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A demeanour equable to viridity,
The nascence of a lamb.
The supposed handsel from the welkin!

Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A swaying of a quixotic mind,
The dance from the societal crwth;
The derogation of the lamb via gibes.

Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A continual lampoon –
The spawn of a chapfallen eagle.
The brainchild of a timorous creature.

Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A diagnosis of a bird in incommunicado with flight;
A late palpation, albeit.
The societal routine…
JaxSpade Dec 2018
Off the slide
Crawled a microscopic life
The smallest naked eye
No one knew he was there

All the time

Through the scientific mind
He lived for the why
Under a naked body
Held by a tenaculum

And in the process of ausculation
He indulged inoculation

Because the palpation
Discovered his flesh
Was to blame

Inside his brain
His thoughts claimed the fame
That became the curriculums
Lies

After the apple sliced
Under the flesh of knife
Skins peeled life
Down the barrel of eyes

A discarded core
Fell to the floor
And the fall of man
Was born
Sav Jul 2021
I miss driving with you.

Cruising down summer roads,
any roads
music up.

You ask me to
play you music that
I used to play when driving.

But I can't remember
any of those songs.

I miss the feeling,
the feeling of the steering wheel
beneath my wrists.

Miss the sounds and smells
Miss the feeling of being carefree.

We need a car of our own.
So I can drive you around
again.

My drivers license is sitting unused
after years of abuse.

I want to be your driver,
be your chariot.

There was something so sweet
about the in between moments.

Something I thought only I noticed.

But she noticed too.
In her minds eye.

She sees me see her,
hand on thigh.

I just want to drive her again.
I want to buy her a Mercedes Benz.

Just to chase those moments.

The ones in between.

Between home and destination.
Between heart and palpation.
kbww Jan 2019
Choice in trepidation
With every palpation
your chest grows close enough
to feel my rhythm
And I’m smitten yet cynical
Brain stutters on whether or not
to accept this kiss
I’ve felt this bliss before
And I’m scared
Terrified to admit my heart
is feeling more
than I’d like it to
This back and forth game
plays in my brain
and my body simply
responds
Flush filling face
Warm lips embrace
And I wish I could just
press pause
I don’t want to see how this
plays out for me
I just want to stay
right here in this purity
Nothing in the future
Nothing in the past
Don’t make this a memory
Make it last

~kb
His daily pain was only as deep as his soul
Hidden as it were from the palpation of all
And though his face often portrayed a joy
The misery like a cancer was certain to destroy!

— The End —