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"peachy" poems
Remember that old uphill trail We used to meander along With matching footsteps Under the sunlit canopy of leaves Carving words for each other On the bark of aged trees Who may have known what would become of us But nevertheless smiled acted as a blank canvas instead And watched the moments Filled with playful laughter Peachy smiles Lingering gaze Warm caress Unfold lazily between us The winds of time May have blown us miles apart Our footprints may have long eroded That sunlit canopy may have withered And we may walk that trail Only in our dreams But those words are yet to fade they were the voice of our soul Etched into the lap of nature And as I run my fingers along its rugged edges I reminisce about you And hope that wherever you are You are thinking about me too
0
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 5:40 AM UTC
Remember
Her master towers over her with his hefty might. His eyes pierce through the shadows. Commanding and bold, he startles her. However, she capitulates to his aura. She succumbs to his will, a willing slave. Confined by his power, she cannot behave. His words are tender, his touch like a feather, she pines for his control, her soul in his hand. In the dungeon of rapture, they explore their appetite. Her master, like a bat, hovers over the dim light. Sweeps her with his wings to a waltz of submission. And takes her to the ride of darkness and delight. A coating of fear decorates her face. He surprises her with acts that leave her afraid. She is hesitant to continue her master’s calling. But her body is dissimilar, peachy, and pulsating. Her master takes her on a trip of ****** events. Where she gasps with fright, moans with pain, and pleasures herself to the sound of the rain. He takes what he wants; she surrenders it all. He puts her in her place with words of degradation. Then showers her with warmth and affection. Her master kisses her, just like aftercare. In each other’s arms they find solace in times of despair.
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May 24, 2024
May 24, 2024 at 3:56 PM UTC
Exploring My Slave
Jealousy Is hell Because I do not enjoy Myself, And well I enjoy all of you- You With your smooth moves Perky and peachy attitudes Teach me To be as sweet As you- Beautiful Can be cruel Not like it is on tv, Or beside me Everyone shining, Smiling, While my smile feels Like hiding Under this wax mask A painted canvus Of pale and black Don't look at me I'm a heartattack A bad act- Broken glass Of a painted doll I am a leo lioness Right? Righteous- Your hieness Sparkles on my eyelids But you see I have enough pride To hide it- Its priceless, Really hillarious Sometimes I feel Like a bad ***** But I'm none of this I am the pray, The gazelle in the grass But I am also the lion Waiting to attack myself Because you see, Jealousy Is hell, I am the lion I am the gazelle I am heaven and hell In a vessle of myself See what you will, Your critiques are nothing My only enemy is me My only savior is me I am a lion But I am also A sheep Don't look at me Sometimes I cry in the mirror Blink my mascara tears, Blurry mess- Can't fit in my old dresses Tearing apart at the seams, Literally Filthy Famish Crawled out of my skin And made some bad habits Declining wealth Declining health Laughing as the scales tip- After all I am a person, Not permanent Why should I care Oh, But I do I do when I look at you You with your talented hands With your spider lashes And good moods Teach me to feel As good As you My lipstick smears and screams As the paintings on my face mock me So will my body, My body thats bruised And missused Perfume to cover the ***** They'll see my cherry lips move But they won't hear me talking Its perfect, The mask of confidence My incompetence Is a perfect fit No, really Its lovely When I wear it, People love me! Because people think I love myself No Jealousy Is hell, Beacuse I do not Love myself I love everybody else, Even the ones who Say I am full of it, Selfish leo, Selfish lion Exaggerated ego- Winking eyelids Sparkle, Wings to my forehead- I flaunt What I don't want, Because you want me to You want me To love me Like you do All of you I remember the words From my mother, Jealousy Is not a pretty color- Its crimson red, Exposed Like blood, I've had to sew it up No- Don't look here Not at my guts, Look at my eyelids Are these not enough?!?! These cherry lips Tell you to sush Less of a lioness, More of a cub I know I am my own predator My own pray I am All of the above
0
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
Lioness
Jealousy Is hell Because I do not enjoy Myself, And well I enjoy all of you- You With your smooth moves Perky and peachy attitudes Teach me To be as sweet As you- Beautiful Can be cruel Not like it is on tv, Or beside me Everyone shining, Smiling, While my smile feels Like hiding Under this wax mask A painted canvus Of pale and black Don't look at me I'm a heartattack A bad act- Broken glass Of a painted doll I am a leo lioness Right? Righteous- Your hieness Sparkles on my eyelids But you see I have enough pride To hide it- Its priceless, Really hillarious Sometimes I feel Like a bad ***** But I'm none of this I am the pray, The gazelle in the grass But I am also the lion Waiting to attack myself Because you see, Jealousy Is hell, I am the lion I am the gazelle I am heaven and hell In a vessle of myself See what you will, Your critiques are nothing My only enemy is me My only savior is me I am a lion But I am also A sheep Don't look at me Sometimes I cry in the mirror Blink my mascara tears, Blurry mess- Can't fit in my old dresses Tearing apart at the seams, Literally Filthy Famish Crawled out of my skin And made some bad habits Declining wealth Declining health Laughing as the scales tip- After all I am a person, Not permanent Why should I care Oh, But I do I do when I look at you You with your talented hands With your spider lashes And good moods Teach me to feel As good As you My lipstick smears and screams As the paintings on my face mock me So will my body, My body thats bruised And missused Perfume to cover the ***** They'll see my cherry lips move But they won't hear me talking Its perfect, The mask of confidence My incompetence Is a perfect fit No, really Its lovely When I wear it, People love me! Because people think I love myself No Jealousy Is hell, Beacuse I do not Love myself I love everybody else, Even the ones who Say I am full of it, Selfish leo, Selfish lion Exaggerated ego- Winking eyelids Sparkle, Wings to my forehead- I flaunt What I don't want, Because you want me to You want me To love me Like you do All of you I remember the words From my mother, Jealousy Is not a pretty color- Its crimson red, Exposed Like blood, I've had to sew it up No- Don't look here Not at my guts, Look at my eyelids Are these not enough?!?! These cherry lips Tell you to sush Less of a lioness, More of a cub I know I am my own predator My own pray I am All of the above
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146
When the baker bakes the baked bakery bakes, Do they also bake the recipe required? What's the recipe for a poem? Does the poet pen the poetical poem poetically to pen their pretty poems? What temperature do you bake ink- To make it a bestseller? How much baking powder do you bake into a page To perfect its pagey turny pageiness? What kinda poem crust does a poem become encrusted in? Should it crumble? Should it rhyme? Should it cry a melodrama so dramatic that drama llamas like “that too much drama!”? Wait, Where did drama llama come into this? Who else is in the kitchen cooking this poem pie? Is the poem pie perfectly pied in its drama crust? WAIT- we forgot about the filling… What do you put in a poetical poem pie? Should I peach the pied poem? The peaches plumpy peachy smile? (i’m not sure how the drama llama feels about that) Should I fill the peachy pied poem with orange and lemon citrus ? A little bit of snazz to the snazzy apple pie. Crap, I forgot the apples as well. Well now my peachy pied lemony apple-orange poem is too long! And i still don’t know what temperature to torch these thoughts at! Well the pied piper pipes in that maybe my peachy pied poem needs some pepper To pipe the spice to pied poem levels! But lemony apple-orange peachy pied poems with pepper seems a touch peppery for simple pied poems to be. But who ever said a poem pied can’t have spice and everything nice WITH lemon and apple and orange and peachy fuzzy smiles? So, My peachy peppered pied lemony appley orangy poemy is piping hot to boot. Now i just need to figure out whos gonna eat the **** thing.
0
Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 3:27 PM UTC
Peachy Poem Pie
When the baker bakes the baked bakery bakes, Do they also bake the recipe required? What's the recipe for a poem? Does the poet pen the poetical poem poetically to pen their pretty poems? What temperature do you bake ink- To make it a bestseller? How much baking powder do you bake into a page To perfect its pagey turny pageiness? What kinda poem crust does a poem become encrusted in? Should it crumble? Should it rhyme? Should it cry a melodrama so dramatic that drama llamas like “that too much drama!”? Wait, Where did drama llama come into this? Who else is in the kitchen cooking this poem pie? Is the poem pie perfectly pied in its drama crust? WAIT- we forgot about the filling… What do you put in a poetical poem pie? Should I peach the pied poem? The peaches plumpy peachy smile? (i’m not sure how the drama llama feels about that) Should I fill the peachy pied poem with orange and lemon citrus ? A little bit of snazz to the snazzy apple pie. Crap, I forgot the apples as well. Well now my peachy pied lemony apple-orange poem is too long! And i still don’t know what temperature to torch these thoughts at! Well the pied piper pipes in that maybe my peachy pied poem needs some pepper To pipe the spice to pied poem levels! But lemony apple-orange peachy pied poems with pepper seems a touch peppery for simple pied poems to be. But who ever said a poem pied can’t have spice and everything nice WITH lemon and apple and orange and peachy fuzzy smiles? So, My peachy peppered pied lemony appley orangy poemy is piping hot to boot. Now i just need to figure out whos gonna eat the **** thing.
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34
You. You were a breath of fresh air during a humid hot day. One where if you ran too long it would take a few painful minutes to catch that oxygen into your lungs again, a day where sweat seemed to build up in places you had yet to discover. Yes, you were that breeze that made my hair lift off of my shoulders and bounce all the way to my ears. You made me feel light and peachy. You. But then I realized that you were the one adding all of the extra weight. You balanced off the scale every once in a while to make it seem like you weren't holding me down by the shoulders. You tricked me into thinking I was smaller than I really was so I felt vulnerable and trapped. Made me think the world was too big for me to explore. You made me think I would get lost. Made me think I was lost. You. Me. Maybe I am lost, That could be on me. I want to find you. I want you and I to be happy. And it may seem silly that I do feel this way. But I miss being able to breathe, and I miss seeing you every day. I do. I rather have that weight on my shoulders, even though it felt like a ton. It kept me down on my feet, made sure I didn’t run. You made me think I would get lost. Now look where I am. I feel so small, and I know it may be my fault. But I want you to know I don’t resent you at all. You can always talk to me if you need some fresh air. You can forever come to me, I’ll always be there.
0
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
fresh air
You smile when you see me writing tenably watching like a child when I turn my prose into rhyming I smile back: "this one's about you" when I kissed you this morning I suddenly realized you taste just like fruit. Like a Pineapple, of all things considered sweeter than a whole bunch of grapes your skirt flaunts your skittles and your legs take the proverbial cake Piña Colada to go with my Enchilada pretty please let me taste the rainbow? I don't like Pineapple on my burger on my pizza I don't feel it either my taste buds become a bitter turbulent river but I just love it on you, that little thing that you do dancing in that lil' grass skirt make it our own Hawaiian Luau. Your juicy lips are a 100% from concentrate like drinking from a can of Dole blowing me a kiss, giving me a smooch please drown me in them a Pineapple falls ways far from an Apple and SpongeBob lives in one of them. From your eyes to your thighs I think of way back when my favorite fruit in the garden you humbly became it's been just peachy from there on end. With the words we shared as we laid in the hay your laughter intoxicated my lungs right down to my pores and through my veins and that's a good thing always a good thing put your hair up the mirror loves a silly face your sly smile for the camera my photogenic exotic babe. Endangered in this world you are the only one of your kind like an extinct Dodo Bird please stay by my side and let me one thing in you confide that the forbidden fruit wasn't an Apple alas, unknown to Adam it was a Pineapple.
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Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:35 PM UTC
"You Taste Like Pinapple"
You smile when you see me writing tenably watching like a child when I turn my prose into rhyming I smile back: "this one's about you" when I kissed you this morning I suddenly realized you taste just like fruit. Like a Pineapple, of all things considered sweeter than a whole bunch of grapes your skirt flaunts your skittles and your legs take the proverbial cake Piña Colada to go with my Enchilada pretty please let me taste the rainbow? I don't like Pineapple on my burger on my pizza I don't feel it either my taste buds become a bitter turbulent river but I just love it on you, that little thing that you do dancing in that lil' grass skirt make it our own Hawaiian Luau. Your juicy lips are a 100% from concentrate like drinking from a can of Dole blowing me a kiss, giving me a smooch please drown me in them a Pineapple falls ways far from an Apple and SpongeBob lives in one of them. From your eyes to your thighs I think of way back when my favorite fruit in the garden you humbly became it's been just peachy from there on end. With the words we shared as we laid in the hay your laughter intoxicated my lungs right down to my pores and through my veins and that's a good thing always a good thing put your hair up the mirror loves a silly face your sly smile for the camera my photogenic exotic babe. Endangered in this world you are the only one of your kind like an extinct Dodo Bird please stay by my side and let me one thing in you confide that the forbidden fruit wasn't an Apple alas, unknown to Adam it was a Pineapple.
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50
Playing pretend ********** is perfectly peachy-keen. Don't be mean and play em' faster than a round of pictionary. Don't act cheap and put out at the lowest prices. You're worth more money than that. You can't rush magic, but if you wanna set yourself up in a trap. You can always go hook up with. The Strangers Of Today. But you might end up in bed with the biggest mistake of your life.
0
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 8:28 PM UTC
Playing Pretend **********
***She's an imp of a troublemaker fairy they call her Heather Featherwand she lives midst ancient ruins     'pon Saturn's ringlets           of ethereal ice & dust you might get a peek at her   neath a summertide night's dream, she wears lavender and tangerine   to blend in with the blazing cosmos,  her pale peachy butterfly wings     make sounds like katydids      singing in the treetops and          cicadas come to life at night   further adding to her mysterious flight, she took off one day, they say     with the man in the moon   and they've been starstruck ever after***
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
Heather Featherwand
When she became the prom queen, She was the prettiest thing they’d ever seen. Soft gold curls spill over her back, Bright green eyes, no sign of decay inside. A spotlight shines down enhancing her cream-colored gown. She beams as she accepts the crown. She kneels down and throws up blood. Her head comes up in a white marble tiled bathroom, Starting to stench. Staring deep into the reflection in her mother’s mirror, Slowly withering away. Pills spill around the room Sitting by the window She stares into the sun. Waiting for a crimson bouquet, And a plastic tiara She powders her face, Peachy pink cheeks on pale white skin. She colors her lips and paints on a smile Slips on a dress that flows to the floor. They call out her name, Lost in a daze she walks out on stage, Stands all alone. And when they crowned me the prom queen I was the ugliest girl I’d ever seen. -Inside on the Other side
0
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 9:14 AM UTC
Suburban Teenage Dreams (Am I Pretty?)
Into the peachy clouds A strawberry sunset spreads some light We track across the chili fields And climb aboard the gravy night A chocolate pond reflects a moon Tall hedges show the way A startled pheasant chucks alarm A pigeon ***** and flies away An unseen owl shrieks hello Foxes cough their husky bark The dapper badger stirs below The night shift claims the dark The ploughman works on through the night Engine roaring, blazing lights In his power-walking leviathan Guided by the satellites On we go, the village near We'll find a welcome there An inglenook, a glowing hearth A pint of hoppy beer.
0
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
England
Jagged is what I became after hearing the way you talked about her Envisioning you caressing her peachy skin Applying my visions to thoughts made my stomach churn Lust became my weakness Obsessed with the sight of your eyes looking into my soul, I was Unsatisfied with our situation, I began to scream, as a Savage rage started to build, growing higher and higher -EC
0
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
Jealous
not your body not your skin not the tips of your peachy fingers not your passionate kiss not your heart beat not your breath hovering over my neck, sending goosebumps and shivers down my spine not your eyes sighting upon my beauty or my loveliness or my seduction or my carefreeness I want to feel you move inside not inside of me (though, that could be nice too) inside of you your own heart your own echoing cage of ribs that lock up even scarier skeletons than the skeleton holding it all together I want to feel you without being with you without holding you without seeing you without constantly thinking of you without wanting you I want to feel you when I am miles away, reading a book with a cup of tea in pyjamas when you are in class and hear something brilliant someone just said, something that makes you stop and think of me without resentment without longing without need without hiding something so simple, so clear and so pertinent something that moves and removes the clutter in you I want to feel you love yourself, the world, the trees, the scrapes on your heart’s knees and me with no want and no need
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Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
I want to feel you
there is a spider crawling up my back sending bite-sized shivers as he climbs up ascending vertebra i think of you and he makes his way to my thighs spilling rose hips perfume medecine of angels the drowning ache the tingling between my toes delirious drool language not meant for you to hear but meant for me to answer Trembling beneath this tiny mess of appendages and swoony eyes i can see your mass traveling through each season your soft tufts donning golden shimmers then glimmering at the dusk of white but i knew you when the bees knew warmth spitfire busy buzzing sweet melodies to the open flower fields but i knew you when your bones kissed your skin too tight before falling renewal and peachy light spiders making their homes in unfamiliar hiding places crawling hyperbolic a silly old mess
0
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
hyperbolic silly mess
I am naked every day. Visible, fleshy in every way. I wear my *** on my sleeve. You can possess me if you please. Peel my skin off under the first layer of peachy crust lies concrete. Dig and dig all you want your shovel will hit your arm will break.
0
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 3:29 PM UTC
Nudes
See you at APriCoT's Produce Club we'll produce peachy poetry.
0
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
10 W for APriCoT's "Poetry Fruit & Vegetable Club"
It was my cousin's wedding reception, And I wore some creamy lacey dress That had to be approved of by my mother Before I shoved it in a bulging duffel bag to endure the Six hours of Dunkin Donuts bathroom stops And that weird stop-and-go traffic that makes me Feel like the color green. As I stood at the brim of the dance floor, Trying to ignore the half-drunk staggering relatives of mine, I thought about whether it's Polite to pry your eight inch Torture-o-thon heels From your swollen toes Before anyone else bothers. There was a boy on the other end of the disco lights, A silhouette that I knew to be slightly more muscular than the last time I'd seen it. Just about my age, or maybe eight months older if you had to ask him, Which I had about thirteen years earlier With some sand in the crotch of My Gymboree bathing suit. I tried my best not to look over. The lights mostly blinded me, But I still wished to glance at him to see how straight his teeth were and how his acne had cleared up Because of Neutrogena SkinID Plus Or something. I could tell that he was looking at me, At the too short lacey dress And my straight teeth And my peachy skin And I wanted so badly to peek over. I wanted him to ask me to dance, Please oh God ask me to dance. (Of course he didn't.) He was a shy kid, even at seventeen. He didn't say a word to me all night, Even though we'd gone to the beach together Since I was in Huggies.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Huggies
It's a painful stretch to re-loving Gargoyles in clusters clutch at my heart Talons pierced and locked wings wrapped upon layers Pulling each one away takes insufferable self violence Just to clear a small space to let you through Too many years of inequity have placed needs burning in my heart   you struggle to relinquish your control, Your gift of consideration is noted. Your changes have exceeded my expectations Though we are nowhere near even. Still, I play it peachy, Your tenderness, your keeness to please me Is unnerving, too little,  too late Your heart whispers squeal like whistles in the hunt Unsettling the watchdog beasts Growling and snarling Clawing tighter at the leather pith of a stone heart Your own needs are barking Your expectations are going to be laid, I'm letting blood Before your debt is even paid It's going to be different this time... Claws tighten, wings gripping tighter Artehoke heart, just another set up I keep anticipating the fall. I go on pretending in the hope It will become real Your darkness permeates your dark love kills Still, there's something about you I can't live without.
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
Gargoyles and peaches
Cheesy eighties shows make me feel like Being a bulimic alcoholic is a good choice. Why is everyone so ugly? That's a confidence booster. I could cry over the amount of sunlight I see. I'm like a little warrior, Standing on a hilltop of daisies, With a pair of pink, sparkly safety scissors in my hand, And a smirk of a five year old genius across my face. Take my hand and tell me I'm perfect, That my scars are beauty marks, My absolute beauty is incomparable, That I'm your china doll. As you lay me down on your bed, And let me know that I'm the only girl for you, This week. Take away my safety scissors. Condescend me. Tell me I do not know what I am talking about. But I see everything from my daisy hill, you know.
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
Peachy Keen
Sometimes I'm the boss and sometimes he's the boss so we get along pretty good and sometimes we're both bosses and sometimes neither of us are bosses so everything is just peachy.
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Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 11:52 PM UTC
THE BOSSES
He stands on a tiny stool To reach toys off the shelf He is only three inches tall This cute little busy elf. He is here, there and everywhere fetching and carrying all of his day With a smile, and then a whistle and all this for one penny per day. But he buys buttercup tea and a mint leaf knocks it back in one big swoop Chews the mint leaf to flavour his breath Doesn't want his reputation to droop. Got to attract the fairies, make them admire This perfect little elf that he has become He is a gentleman through and through Rich in buttercups and very handsome. With his curly red hair framing his green hat His violet eyes, plus a little twinkle His peachy cheeks and rich rosy lips and not one sign of old age or wrinkle. For one hundred and three, this elf is knocking on The little fairies all have a soft spot for this elf But most of all the elf has enormous standing and for that he is most proud of himself.
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
The Elf
There walks no Daphnis with his mournful song Blinded by the vengeful nymph, whose love was unrequited He does not wander in the hills above this place Playing his pipe and singing of his sadness Aphrodite can punish him no more For he is gone to the quiet land of shadows Taken by Hermes, herald and messenger Of the mightiest of gods, to cross the river Styx His soul guided by his father’s loving hand, to Hades and the final still of time and season. In the quartz sculpted gorge, beneath the waterfall Naiads lithe and languorous once bathed Alabaster skinned, in the crystal brook Auburn ringlet tresses were shaken free When they stepped among the mossy rocks and ferns Their peachy cheeks flushed vital rose Their strawberry ******* raised and glistening Their teasing laughter that once echoed in these dales Through verdant pastures and the bluebelled wood Is heard no more, for they have passed into memory. It is silent now, the Jackals are not howling The threat of Wolves and Lions gone This pastoral world of goatherds pining Is but a world of dust and dreams.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
Past Idyll
funny, isn't it? how facebook displays how long it's been since a person was last active. they remind me that i was a mere three hundred seconds from catching you online, but that's okay; no, really!, it is; because my fingers are hovering over my keyboard and the blinker's just blinking in its white little space, this Type a message... glaring at me accusingly. wait, give me a second. what do i tell you? what should i say? hi is safe. so is hello. hey seems a little too casual, doesn't it? should i put an emoji? a heart? no, no. a smiley face. but just the normal smiley face, not the one with closed eyes and everything. or maybe i should use that instead? but /then what/? i guess i could ask you how your day went. that sounds well enough. i can ask you about the weather. no, ****** it's always hot. nothing interesting there. i'll just branch out after you tell me what you've done today, where you've gone. oh, you went to the movies? that's great. last movie i watched was Captain America: Civil War. are you team cap or team iron man? peachy. just peachy. perfect. i've got this. i am s-- holy **** you're online. why are you online? the green circle is just staring at me and oh my god, you're typing, you're typing in to our chat box. oh my god. i liked it better when you were inactive. when you were offline. now i just wait, maybe pretend i wasn't this loser waiting for you to talk to me, this loser who had you on my mind, this loser overthinking what i should say to y-- You (12:39 PM) Hey. I was just thinking about you. :)
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:36 AM UTC
active five minutes ago
funny, isn't it? how facebook displays how long it's been since a person was last active. they remind me that i was a mere three hundred seconds from catching you online, but that's okay; no, really!, it is; because my fingers are hovering over my keyboard and the blinker's just blinking in its white little space, this Type a message... glaring at me accusingly. wait, give me a second. what do i tell you? what should i say? hi is safe. so is hello. hey seems a little too casual, doesn't it? should i put an emoji? a heart? no, no. a smiley face. but just the normal smiley face, not the one with closed eyes and everything. or maybe i should use that instead? but /then what/? i guess i could ask you how your day went. that sounds well enough. i can ask you about the weather. no, ****** it's always hot. nothing interesting there. i'll just branch out after you tell me what you've done today, where you've gone. oh, you went to the movies? that's great. last movie i watched was Captain America: Civil War. are you team cap or team iron man? peachy. just peachy. perfect. i've got this. i am s-- holy **** you're online. why are you online? the green circle is just staring at me and oh my god, you're typing, you're typing in to our chat box. oh my god. i liked it better when you were inactive. when you were offline. now i just wait, maybe pretend i wasn't this loser waiting for you to talk to me, this loser who had you on my mind, this loser overthinking what i should say to y-- You (12:39 PM) Hey. I was just thinking about you. :)
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8
them Tennessee mountains live in his marrow's core them Tennessee mountains are the place he'll always adore it's time for that Tennessee boy to get on back to feel its welcoming air he so wants be amid the mountain's wilderness of peachy fair there his roots do belong grounded in every splendid furlong he's been away from this homely hearth roaming an unsated path Adaline his sweet gal waits in Tennessee she'll greeting him with a kiss under the crab apple tree in her arms is where he'll ever stay cause she's the darling who abides in his heart's cay he's been dreaming of returning to hear a blue jay's refrain that calls in the mountains with a sunlit twain them Tennessee mountains beat in his bosom's emotion their soulful essence so blissful of devotion
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
Tennessee Mountains
Single life is sweet And a lover’s life is a dream But then there is that Space in between That doesn’t seem real At all. It’s the fall From cloud nine To the loneliest limbo. It’s watching sparkling sugar coated single earthlings Below show off their uncommitted free spirited Confectioner outfitted Figures and naked fingers Bubblegum ***** call blazers And frosted fickle flaked fedoras Suiting each been-there-done-that suitor In runway Yong Wild and Free And then you see Above Airy fairy angels in love Wearing pale peachy perfection And creamy chiffon Adorned in pearly promises Baby’s breath and fresh roses French kisses and rubbing noses And of course The stupid Valentine’s Day cards. But you are far Away from either world You are a girl In silent confinement Trapped On Cloud Five nothingness Like a time bomb A volatile child Ready to explode At any moment So kept In icy isolation So that no one Could hear the cries Of your eruption.
0
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 7:31 PM UTC
The Semi-Single Life