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"rewire" poems
When you kiss me, I don't think you realise, but my lips turn into an explosion of electricity on your dead circuit board mouth. Let me revive you. Let me shock you into submission. Let me make your hair stand on end, your knees tremble. Either that, or just smash my bulb. My light flickers when I see you with somebody else, and what use is a dim light to anybody? Apart from the little extra illumination it shines on you. Maybe I could rewire you. Maybe I could flip a switch. Maybe I could turn on your lips and you could kiss me, kiss me, under a streetlamp. Maybe you could be my light in the dark. I think there's been a power cut. I can't see. My eyes are under a blanket of darkness, and your light has gone out. I guess I'll just have to switch on mine whilst you smoulder for another brighter, more beautiful light. Time to pull the plug.
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 9:04 AM UTC
Electricity
so i sit here with a hole in my foot with a hole in my head with a hole in this book with the hole in her eyes when she gave me that look with the hole in my face when i saw what he took the hole in my heart i still don't know the crook paper is just too easy to tear and you think i'm easy when you see i've been shook i think i need a hook now there's a hole in my stomach and it's feeling tight and queezy as she ties me up in knots of my poor esophagus her knuckles white from squeezing i breathing like a snake trying to shed the desert sun is hot so please lift this mask up off my head i try to offer a white flag but she kills me instead cause she doesn't like the things that she can't understand and so she holds her fists like they have holes in them holds me like there are holes in me cavities of ample opportunity for punishment and further tearing, no tears, none of this teething willful jeer i'll split and rewire, i don't need old fears i am only tired at best the pieces did not defy gravity they fell right out of my ****** chest but landing is a skill you see tear me apart for free and be my guest ripping down the wallpaper wrestling with the messes of stresses no one will unremember looking for the emotions you desperately want to render but while i'm still soft i'm no longer tender so remember when you enter that no matter what the temper of the sender or persuasion of the vendor i will not surrender to all these social mind benders there is a hole in my flag my blood is an involuntary badge no more flags, white stains too easily
0
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
white flag
so i sit here with a hole in my foot with a hole in my head with a hole in this book with the hole in her eyes when she gave me that look with the hole in my face when i saw what he took the hole in my heart i still don't know the crook paper is just too easy to tear and you think i'm easy when you see i've been shook i think i need a hook now there's a hole in my stomach and it's feeling tight and queezy as she ties me up in knots of my poor esophagus her knuckles white from squeezing i breathing like a snake trying to shed the desert sun is hot so please lift this mask up off my head i try to offer a white flag but she kills me instead cause she doesn't like the things that she can't understand and so she holds her fists like they have holes in them holds me like there are holes in me cavities of ample opportunity for punishment and further tearing, no tears, none of this teething willful jeer i'll split and rewire, i don't need old fears i am only tired at best the pieces did not defy gravity they fell right out of my ****** chest but landing is a skill you see tear me apart for free and be my guest ripping down the wallpaper wrestling with the messes of stresses no one will unremember looking for the emotions you desperately want to render but while i'm still soft i'm no longer tender so remember when you enter that no matter what the temper of the sender or persuasion of the vendor i will not surrender to all these social mind benders there is a hole in my flag my blood is an involuntary badge no more flags, white stains too easily
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53
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
Continue reading...
87
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
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86
Darling, I hope I'm the cause of your existential crisis, opening your mind in horrifying, vulnerable ways. I hope I make you question and I hope I make you learn. Maybe I'll rewire your brain-- praise me let me incarcerate my writings in your bones, let my thoughts linger, let the pads of my finger tips dwell along the contours of the railways in your head, let me in.
0
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
enlighten
A bracelet of blue upon her hand Made it easier for me to imagine The way they loved each other; I saw his eyes in every rock, In emotions solidified to glistening bits; I saw his attachment to her soul Like pendants hanging from her arm I saw his eyes in every piece of stone, Now cracked; In the midst of the serenity in a glittery blue gem I saw collateral damage. I saw hope in her eyes And dry tears accumulated on the side lines For she decided that, that is where they belong; She clenched to a cup of tea Like they were his arms, Warm as always, Soothing as usual, Just the way it was when he was around. I saw his imprints on her fingers I saw him fiddling with her words, Although they weren’t much, For some words she decided to keep for him Some words are just between them… And those were the words that mattered most. Dear martyr I saw in stone, They wrote your death sentence But I wrote you sentences on my bones, I dreamt of a country for you I dreamt that you would be in it But all that’s left of you is stone. Bracelets cuddling hands; Hands that wrote on papers The future of tomorrow. Dear martyr I saw in her eyes, You are safe there; But it is very dangerous in my mind. You have drowned in her tears Rested upon her eye lashes, You swam your way in between Her wavy hair, You have held her hands With mugs of warm tea. Dear martyr I fumbled on my papers, My papers will not fade away, My words will collapse on buildings Destroying walls they have built to hide the truth Unwiring bombs they have planted As they try rewire our minds; My voice will be ours And your voice will rest. For your place is in the vacancies Between every piece Of a bracelet That had you Written all over.
0
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
Dear Martyr I Saw in Stone:
A bracelet of blue upon her hand Made it easier for me to imagine The way they loved each other; I saw his eyes in every rock, In emotions solidified to glistening bits; I saw his attachment to her soul Like pendants hanging from her arm I saw his eyes in every piece of stone, Now cracked; In the midst of the serenity in a glittery blue gem I saw collateral damage. I saw hope in her eyes And dry tears accumulated on the side lines For she decided that, that is where they belong; She clenched to a cup of tea Like they were his arms, Warm as always, Soothing as usual, Just the way it was when he was around. I saw his imprints on her fingers I saw him fiddling with her words, Although they weren’t much, For some words she decided to keep for him Some words are just between them… And those were the words that mattered most. Dear martyr I saw in stone, They wrote your death sentence But I wrote you sentences on my bones, I dreamt of a country for you I dreamt that you would be in it But all that’s left of you is stone. Bracelets cuddling hands; Hands that wrote on papers The future of tomorrow. Dear martyr I saw in her eyes, You are safe there; But it is very dangerous in my mind. You have drowned in her tears Rested upon her eye lashes, You swam your way in between Her wavy hair, You have held her hands With mugs of warm tea. Dear martyr I fumbled on my papers, My papers will not fade away, My words will collapse on buildings Destroying walls they have built to hide the truth Unwiring bombs they have planted As they try rewire our minds; My voice will be ours And your voice will rest. For your place is in the vacancies Between every piece Of a bracelet That had you Written all over.
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56
Something about your love feels shady Something about your love feels like neon lights Drunken kisses hurtful slurred confessions Seeing the wrinkles of your chapped lips Colored with a shade darker than my lipstick Shattered heart broken trust Countless shots of alcohol burning my throat To rewire my brain So it would justify your actions And lull me to forgive you again Something about your love makes me feel like I would live in a perpetual state of hangover Of your memories When you would have moved on Without looking back at me even once Something about your love smells Malodorous Horribly wrong I won't fall in love with you at all
0
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
Horrible
If i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last.
0
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
Divine Minds Transcend Take a deep breath are you ready to hack reality Lay down and close your eyes this is going to be amazing Are you ready ready to breathe into a cosmic smack down and plunge into the great divide Get rattled Get shattered Get snatched up from life then drift into the glowing maze a place to laugh and cry Minds rewire during lunar flight the blue monkey will grin from ear to ear Strike a pose for your third eye then return you back to life
0
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
The Spirit Molecule
You were the greatest neuronal reorganization to ever happen, of course I don't know who I am anymore. What was plastic seems changed to stone in a gargoyle brain and beneath a microscope the shimmering glia spell out your name over and over in little green lights, fossilizing the neurons that say: Him. The earth has an edge. Nobody wants to fall off. So call me Homer, because the gods themselves could not convince me my situation's a sphere there's far too much fear in this flattened plane that understands only primitive desires and just wants you near. Everyone knows the romanced brain could be mistaken for a ******* addict's. But perhaps if you look more closely into my eyes you will see my irises have turned stormy, that cyclones of energy are becoming patterns that scribble and scribble arcane suggestions for a new cartography. A new story. A new being. Supplies needed: One strong pencil. Enough oxytocin to unlearn an addiction. Enough optimism to overcome an affliction, my diction is code for the way you kissed me and it underlines every sentence like the way a voice rises when asking a question. I have so many questions. And even though the notion of who I will be when I am not you terrifies me, like Cathy and Heathcliff I will not be doomed to roam the moors, already I know there's endlessly more, and with or without you the best is yet to come. Just as they say. No, I don't know what's in store. But I think that's okay. Turn golden, Grey Matter, light up 'til you burn. Reboot. Restart. Rewire. Relearn.
0
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 1:06 PM UTC
The Break, Part VII: Relearn.
You were the greatest neuronal reorganization to ever happen, of course I don't know who I am anymore. What was plastic seems changed to stone in a gargoyle brain and beneath a microscope the shimmering glia spell out your name over and over in little green lights, fossilizing the neurons that say: Him. The earth has an edge. Nobody wants to fall off. So call me Homer, because the gods themselves could not convince me my situation's a sphere there's far too much fear in this flattened plane that understands only primitive desires and just wants you near. Everyone knows the romanced brain could be mistaken for a ******* addict's. But perhaps if you look more closely into my eyes you will see my irises have turned stormy, that cyclones of energy are becoming patterns that scribble and scribble arcane suggestions for a new cartography. A new story. A new being. Supplies needed: One strong pencil. Enough oxytocin to unlearn an addiction. Enough optimism to overcome an affliction, my diction is code for the way you kissed me and it underlines every sentence like the way a voice rises when asking a question. I have so many questions. And even though the notion of who I will be when I am not you terrifies me, like Cathy and Heathcliff I will not be doomed to roam the moors, already I know there's endlessly more, and with or without you the best is yet to come. Just as they say. No, I don't know what's in store. But I think that's okay. Turn golden, Grey Matter, light up 'til you burn. Reboot. Restart. Rewire. Relearn.
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19
frantic antics rewire my brain, almost as if it were never a brain at all— circuits and switches and copper thread, my computerized cerebellum, my inorganic head, as biology becomes machine. what powers my body, this metallic monstrosity? there is no plug, no battery— only the cogs and gears of a watchmaker's fever dream and sheer, dumb luck. because, while they stood around and waited idly for my parts to rust, i was killing time in a vacuum, ignoring the earnest embraces of air and rain. and thus, here i rest, with the sound of my own meek ticking thrumming against these pink asylum walls but because i stayed awake to tell the tale, and to rub their sordid noses in the dirt, i suppose my isolation was worth it.
0
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
mechanic depressive
If i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again,  With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last.
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
mental illness
I would scale the highest most decrepit radio towers in the world the rusted metal crumbling against my feet Risking electrocution and the constant threat of falling as I rewire the ancient spiderweb of cabling so I can hear even the faintest transmission of your voice I'll clutch a stained and faded photograph of us The only remainder after most everything digital dies out in flickers of dormant transistors and dissipated binary I'll protect it from acidic rain and the grit of persistent dust storms So little resources left in a continent of incinerated cities yet this picture of you and I is all I will need to keep moving When I finally find you I will fight against all impossible odds and potential ends I'll walk entire burnt out highways with you just to make one last stand I will carry you across these deserted wastelands and returning forests To show that even after the bombs drop My love belongs to you
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
A Love Poem for the Apocalypse
As I walk through the valley I'm the shadow of death, I keep myself together with every waking breath, I make it unknown to everyone who I truely am, no one will every know the emotions I cram. Some say i don't understand, That I dont get it, That I dont understand you, Well I do, I see you, I know you, I get you, I've been where you are, I've walked through the valley and back up again, I've slept alone with my thoughts in a den, I thought it would never end. Day after day, Year after year, never shedding one tear, I stayed strong through the worst, picked myself up when i was about to burst, I've let love go when my lust thurst, I am the shadow in the valley of death, I look like im the angel of life, no one needs to see the black cloke i wear, they just see my smile and short cut hair. Well groomed, teeth clean, smelling good, no one relizes there is something below, a second skin, lying within, waiting to be let out to show my real self, but until then the angel of life is here to stay, to tell you your beautiful and great, even the shadow inside me knows its not to late, to show you what I see in you, to rewire your battered heart, to give you a new start, to tell you that your not stupid, that your funny and cute and deserve cupid, I'm hear to listen and help, even though you think I can't I'm going to try my best, not as the shadow of death, but the angel of life, to give you happiness in every breath.
0
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
Shadow of Death
Eyes the color of tiger stones Whisper to me your song of old Soft scales, impactful blows So beautiful Remind me of your powerful soul A rising orange sun-glow Reflects the light just so I can see the life lines of your skin Encouraging me to go within The infinite being that is Accepting the power I miss Now, I lift my Self higher Connect with fire I align with a desire To take the ego from its towering spire And begin to rewire The thoughts that conspire To cause me to tire Before I can muster The energy to uncover What I thought I had lost, however Now I know Nothing is ever lost forever I am never alone.
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
Snake
There's carollers outside my door With the dreaded Christmas curse They sing and sing and sing and sing But, they only sing ONE verse They ring the bell beforehand All stand back and start to sing I'm gonna do some rewire work So my doorbell does not ring They're from the church They're from the school They can not sing in tune I can not wait for Boxing Day I hope it gets here soon They sing for cans of goodies They open up their souls I just wish they'd learn the whole **** song Or they'd just all shut their holes They come out every evening They come out every day I bet they've never heard a jingle bell Or even ridden in a sleigh Now, I like Christmas Choirs It's not that I'm a Grinch But, learn the words before you sing It really is a cinch It's a partridge in a pear tree Not a bird stuck in a bush These two cent hacks are able To turn the nicest songs to moosh Just knock and stand back silent For three minutes, silent stay Then I'll give you all ten dollars So you will all just go away
0
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
The Christmas Carol Singers
I hope you've heard my love hiding inside the melody that Donny Hathaway plays From every poetic note folded amongst the ivory keys plucked This heart writes light like butterfly wings fluttering in flight But it's heavy when I barely see you So, my vision grows old like my wishes of us Weakened only by fleeting time Yet. lengthened Like desires that chain-link hopes to the wildest dreams along far streams You could say I'm always in your hair Wherever the strands flow, I follow its fibers feverishly Strung along by song of nature so strong, that I'm in a Pinocchio-state, made to move by your voice A puppet parroting psalms to praise your personage In the richness of your favor In the hour of knowing It's been a minute And time is indeed money Every second counts when I'm around your golden smile I wish I could play this track forever Or rewire my brain to rehearse every one of your favorite verses Be the B-side of your cassette And rewind to the best moments Unwind together. Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
0
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
"In Tune" - 9.7.18
I don't want no mediocre love, give me more of a 1 corinthians 13. I need to know you'll draw nearer when heavy or small storms come, not lose your sh*t, get scared of the thunder and leave. See, love is a learning thing and we'll need water for it to grow, we can't just plant our seed, walk away and expect it to grow on its own. We've gotta clear the pathways, rewire and connect inside our domes, because without communication we'll both feel as if we're all alone. But if forever can be seen within the roots, then no storm will ever be hard to get through. I said it's all about forever, it's all about the roots. If they're deep enough then there's no storm that will be too rough, and love will not be moved. So give me that 1 corinthians 13 and we'll till the ground and build from a strong foundation. Any other type just won't feel right, and will only be wasting our time.
0
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 6:39 PM UTC
No mediocre love
For all my life I’ve been a woman obsessed With taking up as little space as possible To shrink my waist And sink my cheeks I’ve been a woman obsessed With being heard as little as possible To bite my tongue and not interrupt To keep the ******* curse words in I’ve been a woman obsessed With winning the hearts of others To see the twinkle in their eye when they smile at me But I am thick, and I am loud, and I forgot to love myself.
0
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
How do I rewire
Remove Recover Resolve Replace Relocate Relapse Rebound Recycle Rewind Rewire Relearn Refund Rekindle Resound Respond Renegade Relax Rinse Repeat.
0
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 8:22 PM UTC
Useless Information
I am a girl. See that. A girl. I'm not a boy. I got curves and long hair. Nothing too scary… Then why the hell won't you talk to me? If that is what you want, me, then come on boys, I am waiting. Patiently, wanting to be pursued with every bit of your energy, I'll give you hints and lead you on, but come on, It aint that hard to admit you like me, I mean I may not feel the same, But seriously, This is not funny… You can't call me pretty and then just do nothing, No, don't walk away yet, ***** into my heart and then not commit, What is this? Did your mom's not teach you manners? Playing your evil games with my lover hazy brain. Admit it! *** thats only what you want! But please, I am not ****** Neither am I that easy. Break into my heart, and then rewire my veins, What? Are you completely insane? I desire a partnership! God! Is that so **** deranged? But no, your heart's too broken, or you just not that interested, Please… I will not press my lips upon yours, The same old story once again
0
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
Girl Probs
The brain is never too old to learn new tricks. Like how you eventually mold to every hand you hold, even if you've never held it before (especially if you hope to hold it for a long, long time). Your neurons are always evolving and adapting, from the first time you open your eyes and your retinas (oh your retinasandconesandrodsandthereis SO MUCH MORE goingonbehindthescenesthanwegiveitcreditfor) are pounded by light, by images, by focus and abstraction coming into clarity and comprehension. Did you know that you can sing your way through a stutter? I wish I could tell that to the heart palpitations currently coursing through John Doe's ventricles. But that's besides the point. Your neurons, the same one you were born with, far fewer that you'll die with, can rewire themselves. Tell yourself you're dying enough times, and maybe your brain will trick itself into living.
0
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 10:44 PM UTC
Neuroplasticity
deep in my core, I am as sweet as honey. I have beautiful bouquets inside of me. touch me and i will bloom for you. slice open my midsection and the flowers will curl around my ribcage. crack open my skull to find incredible thoughts growing as they form. separate my legs and watch me open petals of the prettiest hues. my petals, my nectar, my thorns. all yours. selfish lovers have picked my petals off, crush me at the stem of my core. I begin to wilt; I slowly rot. they are repulsed. my beauty turns to death and they turn the other way. quick to blame, they fail to notice it was their hands to taint me. flowers require delicate hands and the nourishing sunshine to survive. when kept in the dark, they wither. how could you expect me to be any different? if I could rewire this brain of mine -- this body of mine -- I would much rather fill myself with thorns; poison, barbed wire to wrap my bones. but I am soft, I am sunshine and nature divine. I bloom and wilt and recreate myself time after time. it takes more than ravenous hands to stop me from growing.
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Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
BLOOMING / ROTTING