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"reaffirm" poems
You know the type. She's probably called something like Isabella. Rosalie. Ginevra. and you find her in the sort of novel where she's outdone by someone called something like Jane. Agnes. Lucy. She's remembered in criticism as Trivial. Silly. Foolish. She's defined as Shallow. Vain. False gold. She's analysed as the mirror, the contrast or the foil and you're supposed to vaguely dislike her. She'll reaffirm to the reader that the heroine, whether she be plain or beautiful, is always, in the end, Rational. Independent. Brave. She reaffirms the heroine as someone who learns and grows while the silly girl is left looking at herself in the mirror. The thing is sometimes I feel more like the silly girl, the girl who needs a hand, the girl who reads books and wants to believe the stories. Sometimes, I'm looking in the mirror, chest deep in my own trivial, silly little worries, looking at the puddles not the lake, and I know. I know I'd be one of the silly girls, not the heroine, out there, just surviving. I'd be one of those silly girls and I hate it - and yet - what's so wrong with the silly girls? What's so wrong with the girls who love themselves, or love the wrong people or love their clothes? What's wrong with the girls who are brave but not rational, independent but trivial, selfish but practical? What's wrong with those girls, because I always find myself preferring the Ginevras and the Isabellas anyway.
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
silly and frivolous
I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now, maybe I’m a machine, maybe I’m not a human being, maybe I’m more cyborg than Sapien, maybe I’m more electron than neuron, and maybe none of this matters, maybe we’re cogs in the vehicle, maybe we’re abnormal cyborgs, more flamboyant than incog, more insignificant and important, and maybe I’m special, and maybe I do stand out more than most, but at the end of the day I don’t think it matters, because when it’s all said and done everything is just dust, no justice, it’s justice, feeling a bit awkward and bazaar, suspecting that they spiked the fruit punch, and I don’t know for sure that none of this is real, but I do have a pretty strong hunch, want fresh squeezed not pre-made, want a spontaneous feeling not an automated response, want to stay here with you for as long as I can, but I think that might be impossible because I’m probably already gone, so please say something real or say nothing at all, constantly trying to find ways to reaffirm our existence, that’s why I still go out socialize and initiate relationships, even though every time I do it all feels sterile cliche and pre-rehearsed,   but maybe that’s because we’re living in a Matrix, I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now… ∆ LaLux ∆
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
Matrixing
I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now, maybe I’m a machine, maybe I’m not a human being, maybe I’m more cyborg than Sapien, maybe I’m more electron than neuron, and maybe none of this matters, maybe we’re cogs in the vehicle, maybe we’re abnormal cyborgs, more flamboyant than incog, more insignificant and important, and maybe I’m special, and maybe I do stand out more than most, but at the end of the day I don’t think it matters, because when it’s all said and done everything is just dust, no justice, it’s justice, feeling a bit awkward and bazaar, suspecting that they spiked the fruit punch, and I don’t know for sure that none of this is real, but I do have a pretty strong hunch, want fresh squeezed not pre-made, want a spontaneous feeling not an automated response, want to stay here with you for as long as I can, but I think that might be impossible because I’m probably already gone, so please say something real or say nothing at all, constantly trying to find ways to reaffirm our existence, that’s why I still go out socialize and initiate relationships, even though every time I do it all feels sterile cliche and pre-rehearsed,   but maybe that’s because we’re living in a Matrix, I’m definitely Matrixed in, feel like every girlfriend is a program, feel like every experience is a dream, feel like I don’t feel anything at all now… ∆ LaLux ∆
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37
Dearly Beloved by Michael R. Burch for Suzan Blacksmith She was Dearly Beloved by her children, who gather to pay their respects; they remember her as they clung together through frightful weather, always learning that Love can persevere ... She was Dearly Beloved by family and friends who saw her great worth, even as she grew frail; for they saw with Love’s eyes how Love’s vision transcends, how her heart never faltered, through cyclones and hail ... She is Dearly Beloved, well-loved, sadly missed ... and, while we mourn the lost days of a life too-soon ended, we also rejoice that her suffering is past ... she now lives in the Light, by kind Angels befriended. And if others were greater in fortune and fame, and if some had iron wills when life’s pathways grew dark ... still, since Love’s the great goal, we now reaffirm her claim to the highest of honors: a mother’s Heart. Keywords/Tags: Suzan Blacksmith, elegy, eulogy, epitaph, memorial, tribute, remembrance, farewell, goodbye, last respects
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Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 10:07 PM UTC
Dearly Beloved, for Suzan Blacksmith
Let's write a New Chapter Let's not forget what we wrote yesterday and what we know about the past Let's start a new chapter Let's write new songs and new poems that tell of our love for each other Let's write what is new today and reaffirm what we knew yesterday Let's write a new chapter in our lives that makes us not forget about yesterday Let's write new love songs and write new sonnets that we would use to paint the love we have for each other on this canvas of life Let's write a new chapter about our love Let's write a new chapter about our souls Let's write a new chapter about our hearts desires Let's write a new chapter about our lives Let's write a new chapter about .........
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 4:53 AM UTC
Let's write a new chapter
He was an elderly man, clothed in desolation, a gray man fading into the stoop on which he reclined as if he were already turning to dust, disintegrating. He coughed, and coughed again the rasp of an ailing man, a rattle vibrating from the fathoms within, and he fumbled for his pack of cigarettes as if to reaffirm his intention of dying should his bottle of cheap wine not propel him into oblivion. He was muttering, muttering secrets to himself, or of himself, or perhaps proverbs to show someone, anyone, how enlightened he could be there on the gray stoop as dust and the remainder of his life swirled about him. --
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Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 5:40 PM UTC
The Stoop
You can run away from bullies, Go home after school and rest assured you're safe From whatever torment they may bring, Whatver distress they inflict upon you. You can turn on the lights when it's dark, Illuminate rooms so you can reaffirm That your closet doesn't have a murderer in it, Or that dust is the only thing residing under your bed. You can run inside when it begins to rain, Cuddle up in bed with tea and listen to the thunder As a storm rolls through your neighborhood. You're safe and sound under your comforter. You can close your eyes in scary movies, Plug your ears, hide behind a friend. You can say "It's all fiction, it's not real." Because that's true. Movies aren't, no matter how convincing. You can avoid circuses If clowns do not delight you. You can abstain from seeing their big red shoes and noses As long as you do not attend a circus.   You can defeat most frightening things within your life; Don't acknowledge them, abstain from encountering them, conquer them, reduce them to nothing. The most frightening thing in my life is myself, and I cannot simply go home, turn on a light, or avoid a circus. It is always me, myself and I cannot simply pretend I am comfortable with always being in the presence of my biggest fear.
0
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Me, Myself and I
At this point she remains a specter Nearly unnoticed, yet vital as the pole to a tethered ball At this point I remain oblong Punched from behind, yet to reaffirm my true form I orbit her essence, chasing the wire that holds me Not to have it, but to outrun it Racing him to her, in a hapless homage To every failed romance before In a binding performance Painfully predictable twists and turns Leading me to her in a victorious procession Slaps to my face and blows to my head Strangely entertaining I rest atop her, fully requited now Forced there by some unknown hand I’m committed, torsion of the wire pulsing Ignore it now for this one day Until we play again
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May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 9:58 PM UTC
Tetherball
When I dream, I dream of you alone; Perhaps in some far-distant, time-forgotten place That once existed in the days of youth. And there, some dim, faint memory of the mind Is stirred, as waters rise before the wind. And here, adrift from life in realms unknown, I see the incandescent beauty of your face. I draw you to me, and I know the truth; The past means nothing, for in your eyes, I see The future only, and all else is lost to me. * * * * * * * * * Farewell to tortured hope, to misery and doubt; The vow I made to you, I kept throughout The dark, disastrous years of desolation. Mourn not for days that lie beyond recall; For hours withheld from us, no tear should fall To blur the joy of love’s sweet affirmation. The time Fate stole from us was not in vain; For, now that your heart is joined with mine again, We find the very reason for our own existence. At last, we see that Faith’s reward is shown; And know, as other dreamers well have known, Love triumphs by the reason of its own persistence. * * * * * * * * * Our time draws near now, and my love, we find The paradise we made here must be left behind. All that we take with us are memories; The flame of life expires, the clock unwinds. Now we unravel, and with dying eyes, we see That to perish miserably accords with life’s decree. The mind must falter, and the flesh must die, And turn to dust beneath an angel carved in stone, So that the soul may rise unfettered to the sky To seek some wondrous Eden of its own. And swiftly, through beckoning, bright infinity, We soar on wings of light toward our destiny. * * * * * * * * * And surely, somewhere amid the vastness Of the universe, we find our place and time. So dear one, come to me, and let my fingers trace With love, the sweet perfection of your face. And know that, in this simple act of mine, I reaffirm my vow in all its fastness.
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
The Hill of Dreams (Prologue)
When I dream, I dream of you alone; Perhaps in some far-distant, time-forgotten place That once existed in the days of youth. And there, some dim, faint memory of the mind Is stirred, as waters rise before the wind. And here, adrift from life in realms unknown, I see the incandescent beauty of your face. I draw you to me, and I know the truth; The past means nothing, for in your eyes, I see The future only, and all else is lost to me. * * * * * * * * * Farewell to tortured hope, to misery and doubt; The vow I made to you, I kept throughout The dark, disastrous years of desolation. Mourn not for days that lie beyond recall; For hours withheld from us, no tear should fall To blur the joy of love’s sweet affirmation. The time Fate stole from us was not in vain; For, now that your heart is joined with mine again, We find the very reason for our own existence. At last, we see that Faith’s reward is shown; And know, as other dreamers well have known, Love triumphs by the reason of its own persistence. * * * * * * * * * Our time draws near now, and my love, we find The paradise we made here must be left behind. All that we take with us are memories; The flame of life expires, the clock unwinds. Now we unravel, and with dying eyes, we see That to perish miserably accords with life’s decree. The mind must falter, and the flesh must die, And turn to dust beneath an angel carved in stone, So that the soul may rise unfettered to the sky To seek some wondrous Eden of its own. And swiftly, through beckoning, bright infinity, We soar on wings of light toward our destiny. * * * * * * * * * And surely, somewhere amid the vastness Of the universe, we find our place and time. So dear one, come to me, and let my fingers trace With love, the sweet perfection of your face. And know that, in this simple act of mine, I reaffirm my vow in all its fastness.
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43
A fighting feeling, only felt, in my nervous tree, from the air I breathe which becomes hotter and faster, speeding up the pumping of O2, within me, giving my blood a chase from my pump factory to every branch and stem of this nervous plant, feeding each one charmingly, leaving them spelled. Perhaps better said Possessed. My eye's can't but show how I feel" Thereby revealing my weakness This I fight always because I gat to be the Girl with the jazz not the Girl possessed with his bass Oh! What a feeling! I war against it, but I love it, and never want it to stop fighting me A Love War not a seduction; a battling feeling that keeps me going How long is it going to continue? I don't want again... Oh no please don't stop For how long? As long as my flag is not put down As long as I'm not out of fighting emotions As long as I never get hurt again As long as I'm not with you when I'm weak Sometimes The best way to reaffirm your feelings For each other and end the Love War Is simply spend time together Doing what each other loves or Simply doing nothing together What matters most is being Together
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
"Love War"
Your name. Your sweet name. Even when I hear it from someone else it has a particular sonority that affects my soul, weakens it, and surrenders to you. And it haunts me. And it follows me. Wherever I go someone calls your name. Oh, your name. Each letter hurts me, digging in my heart like seven tiny daggers, bleeding out. It hurts to know. Reaffirm day after day the fact that you are not mine, and that you never will. Far away. I want you far away, but not distant. The pain of your absence is greater than the pain of your presence. Violent convulsion that my heart suffers every time I lay my eyes upon you. You. Visual representation of a name. A name that kills me and gives me life. A name that moves me and paralizes me. A name. Your name.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
Your Name
"Uuh, dude, your Hubris is showing. Watch your fuckin' tongue, man. It's cool to express yourself, but now you're just being a **** Hold thy beloved charientisms, thy ****** knives in velvet sleeves: You don't exactly seem to understand the true power of those Words you propagate so 'knowingly,' as if a monkey with his own **** but, if you do realize what you say: you're a ******* ******* Well, which are you: a tactless, spiteful, foolish hypocrite, or an affectatious egoist of a hypocrite? I'd wager an unhealthy balance that it's both. I've seen it for years. You assume a lot for how little you know. You step on other people's sentences with a mastered matter-of-fact tone regardless of how true those facts you spew even ******* are. There you go again, borrowing other people's **** without expressed consent nor explicit intention to return; we have a word for that, I think. Either your behavior and morality totally adapt to your surroundings, and/or you're a ******* Hypocrite Fool. Either way, you cannot be trusted once a back is turned. Honestly, if I had to guess, I'd be hard-pressed to give you the benefit of the doubt by assuming the level of consideration required for maliciousness. You just want all of your stuff for you, and all of everyone else's for you, too, and the crux is you'll feign being pleasant just until you get it, then you come out of your ******* cocoon and get all high and mighty, entitled, and condescending. Last one on the bandwagon, first one to throw a stone; you're a real fuckin' winner! All you tend to do every time I chill with you is berate others- oh, I meant "advise" others, who may well be better off than you, for having many problems which you either could not understand, or with which you find yourself, you ******* Fool. Every time I wonder if I've become too indignant as a direct result of your antics, you remove my self-doubt and reaffirm my reservations by eating all my ******* cheese or talking **** on my friends behind the back of whoever it is who has their back turned at the moment. When will you learn? When will you mature? I guess nothing changes if we tolerate **** in our faces. Tread lightly, Elephant, for you tread 'pon thin-ass ice."
0
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Hypocrite Fool
"Uuh, dude, your Hubris is showing. Watch your fuckin' tongue, man. It's cool to express yourself, but now you're just being a **** Hold thy beloved charientisms, thy ****** knives in velvet sleeves: You don't exactly seem to understand the true power of those Words you propagate so 'knowingly,' as if a monkey with his own **** but, if you do realize what you say: you're a ******* ******* Well, which are you: a tactless, spiteful, foolish hypocrite, or an affectatious egoist of a hypocrite? I'd wager an unhealthy balance that it's both. I've seen it for years. You assume a lot for how little you know. You step on other people's sentences with a mastered matter-of-fact tone regardless of how true those facts you spew even ******* are. There you go again, borrowing other people's **** without expressed consent nor explicit intention to return; we have a word for that, I think. Either your behavior and morality totally adapt to your surroundings, and/or you're a ******* Hypocrite Fool. Either way, you cannot be trusted once a back is turned. Honestly, if I had to guess, I'd be hard-pressed to give you the benefit of the doubt by assuming the level of consideration required for maliciousness. You just want all of your stuff for you, and all of everyone else's for you, too, and the crux is you'll feign being pleasant just until you get it, then you come out of your ******* cocoon and get all high and mighty, entitled, and condescending. Last one on the bandwagon, first one to throw a stone; you're a real fuckin' winner! All you tend to do every time I chill with you is berate others- oh, I meant "advise" others, who may well be better off than you, for having many problems which you either could not understand, or with which you find yourself, you ******* Fool. Every time I wonder if I've become too indignant as a direct result of your antics, you remove my self-doubt and reaffirm my reservations by eating all my ******* cheese or talking **** on my friends behind the back of whoever it is who has their back turned at the moment. When will you learn? When will you mature? I guess nothing changes if we tolerate **** in our faces. Tread lightly, Elephant, for you tread 'pon thin-ass ice."
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80
Once again we welcome here With arms held open wide, A very special time of year; Choose presents, wrap and hide A Christmas gift is waiting, We're hoping it's 'the one' There'll be no more hesitating, Unwrapping's so much fun Truth be told it's more than that Yes, presents pass the time; At dinner we each wear a hat Eat turkey, drink the wine But Christmas is a chance to show Our loved ones that we care, A time to reaffirm, although We hope they know we're there; If ever they should need you Your arms are open wide, At any time, the whole year through You'll be right by their side... This Christmas, when you sit there With gifts and cards aside, Remember there are those who care; You're treasured in my life © Karen L Hamilton, 2015
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
A Christmas Poem
hough aiming forward we are losing ground hearts may be filled with hope but our hard fate is to be weighed and valued pound by pound as the remainders of a great estate the counters' duty it is to collate what goes to storage and what to the worm what will be buried to build up the berm and what parts of the fortune they might keep those who are watching are the very firm our place is taken and we have to sleep so much of what is said is to confound the ones whose task it is to count and rate the complete measure within proper bound they aren't allowed to lie nor to inflate the tiny parcels into something great but must agree the winner is the germ that strikes the mighty hard as they might squirm and into every corner seems to creep it's certain victory we can't affirm our place is taken and we have to sleep we wanted to astonish and astound win the reward of gold and silver plate have banknotes piled up in a giant mound cart off bright jewels in a well-made crate these are not the conditions we instate we find ourselves most rotten and infirm unable now to generate a therm nor over lowest bar ever to leap our weakness any fool now could confirm our place is taken and we have to sleep prince you may rule us for a certain term since none of us has power to reaffirm just what we were nor what we had to keep within our power nor underneath each derm our place is taken and we have to sleep
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Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 5:20 AM UTC
aiming forward, losing ground
It’s too easy to trust God, when Life is good, pleasant and free of everyday strife. When we’re comfortable, joy is often experienced; lost is sight of Him, Who gives Life. Unfortunately, tragedy’s pain is released upon us, whereby we succumb to despair, unbelief and the darkness that envelops a World with sin’s rebellion. We’re now unfocused; no relief is available to our sad souls; we’re swallowed by an evil that stabs us… with merciless grief. Calling Christ now, that is Faith- when we choose to move forward, rise up and reaffirm our beliefs in the One, Who truly saves us. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Rom 8:28, 38 and To trust God in the light is nothing, but trust Him in the dark — that is faith. -C. H. Spurgeon Dedicated to the memory of D.J. Breunig 1 March 2016 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
Poem: Now, That is Faith
Have you been praised recently? Has anyone told you today that you did well or that you're doing your best or that you've done so much for them or that you deserve your rest? Do you believe them? When they thank you, do you ignore it? When they reaffirm their opinion, that you did something good do you lash out against yourself? I don't. Not because I don't believe them nor do I think they feign sincerity; It's mostly just from my experience that just as easily that they praise you for such a remarkable ability that they will turn around and say otherwise at the drop of a hat. I am not here to tell you to believe those who mean well when they say "Thank you." I am here to tell you that the one you should be thanking is yourself. So from the bottom of your heart, please take a moment close your eyes, and ignore everyone around you. Feel it within your soul, and say "Thank you." For living. For breathing. For being here. Thank you.
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Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
Thank You
Know that your brokenness can be healed and that your wholeness can be restored. Reaffirm your divine covenant today, by completely trusting upon the Lord! Seek a vital relationship with God now; be thankful for His daily grace and mercy. Realize and understand His intentions for you; Open your eyes and observe what He sees… regarding His plans, already laid out; through prayer, request spiritual guidance. Recognize your heavenly position this day; know that you can overcome any circumstance. Develop with Christ a genuine fellowship. Remember! You’re still… called to worship! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Deu 7:9; Heb 7:11-22; Jer 29:11-14; Prov 3:5-6; Rom 8:37; 1 John 1:7; Lev 17:11; 1 Cor 12:27 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
Poem: Called to Worship (IX)
C'est la belle vie the words escape quietly from my lips they float silently to the floor and settle there the words are so quiet, so small I can't be sure they ever really left my mouth But there they are, sitting comfortably on the floor They look up at me from below, questioning them self I think about repeating them, maybe to reaffirm their meaning but the sounds don't quite make it past my tongue So I sit there in silence with some fallen words laying on the floor.
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Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 2:26 PM UTC
Word Shaker
O Lord, how much of this reality has no earthly bindings on me? Help to shape my perception, regarding the things, that I see. As an intelligent person, it’s obvious to avoid indifference and fear, especially when there is… a clear choice with a sure preference. Although the future is unknown, there's a proven solution to help one cope. The guidance of the Scriptures reaffirm that in Jesus, we should have our hope. Finding genuine comfort within The Word secures the foundation of Life’s course. Through patience and regular prayers, one… ultimately realizes the one, True Source. We’re promised to have our needs met; so avoid being overcome by despair. Peace of mind is attainable, when remembering… The Children of God remain in His care. Author Notes: Loosely based on: Rom 15:4 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513 By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
Poem: Attitudes
I never knew what a house on fire felt like until i felt the bees in my bones rumble in full force. Thinking of losing myself puts me in distress and sets flames on a course unstoppable. I feel like it leaves burn marks on my skin or a rip in the seam of what holds my soul together. Mirrors are out of the question, even if they reaffirm existence. They shout, “You are here. You exist!” They polarize and objectify the things I cannot face.
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May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Reflective
He didn't know that he invested in being left and getting cheated on, bereft of commitment, suddenly it all went wrong; I took a turn back to what I had before, just to reaffirm I don't have that anymore. Vows: we never said them and I don't know that we will, but I'm honest as can be when I say I love him still.
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
Untitled
I used to pine for you. Your acid flesh saturating my hair Your naked crystal caressing my skin And when I was scared I would remember how it felt when Your tide would gently and forcefully pull me out How the twisted tree trunks of your love wrapped their branches around me And I would think of you in rhymes that did not make sense Prayers that made it seem like I believed in something Maybe you were my God Because part of me almost wanted to be impregnated with your love child At one point or another So maybe it would make you care. That part of me disintegrated pretty quickly As your words became synonymous with the crackling of fire The snapping that bones make when they break and turn to dust Your voice could decompose me in an instant And you never seemed to mind. So now, that I might have your offspring Living inside of me I don't know how to feel. Taking a test would just reaffirm the fact that my future could be in shambles Wires wrapped around themselves A construction zone ready to ignite and explode So I wait for my monthly offering That Mother Nature so graciously delivers to my body Reminding me that I am the only inhabitant in it thus far. I fear for any child that even has a chance of existing Because while it would be beautiful It would be ****** into the middle Of this beautiful toxicity.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Beautiful Toxicity
*what remains is magnificent liberation is simplicity infinitely refracted and luminous survival is imminent dominion of the elements mastering our domain and knowing our own identity as often as the rain falls to earth we must frequently reaffirm our self-worth celebrate our existence in silence and in kisses symbols abound that ground our existence allow us to move upon the ethereal waters feel me here in love’s embrace satiated as space is holding us together*
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Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
What Remains