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"undescribable" poems
Making love isn't just about having *** Its also nice to see how it effects (the relationship) Its connecting two peoples souls, through the depeest of touch When there's no stronger way to express your love with ****** intimacy and such Sharing everything without a speck of bother Making each other happy and pleasing each other It can be nice and slow, tender, romantic and surely sweet To be as close as humanly possible is such a nice treat When lust burns to love which deepens through this The soul does experience undescribable bliss Please do love me until the night is over, come here, give me a kiss Lets make love my dear, On this first day of the year I love you ~ Umi
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Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 7:58 AM UTC
Making Love
I'm broke and **** near broken some days i can't eat at all other days i eat too much can't stand to look in the mirror wishing the number i see on the scale would switch with my grades things never go the way i want them to too many dead ends not enough ways out got nothing to do no time soon i'm often forgotten like snow in summer i'm breaking out but not from this hole I'm in my brain is constantly fizzling hopefully soon i'll get tired, simply fizzle out so this static can just         S     T   O        P i need something, or someone, that takes the pain away that fills my lungs with something other than this undescribable endless void i'm done i'm tired of this body and soul how many pills does it take until i no longer regenerate? is this a call for help? or a way to let it all out? but when you ask, I'm fine
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
This feeling won't go away
Oh the undescribable beauty That your forest hold, And how much it tells Without a single word being told. Each and every wanderer Being called, By the sun shining through the trees Looking like little streaks of gold. The pathway that leads to total Freedom of the soul, And you're in your element When the birds starts to call. Oh how truly beautiful Your forest are, It's just sad That it has to be so far. -ZvZ-
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Your forest
You were my perfect poem Brief but of many lessons Our life was the perfect paradox For love I thought we could rhyme You hated all I ever loved,I loved all you hated You said dirt was clean and the sun was cold You desired tears for years And resisted all advances of happiness All you hated I had to forsake For our love was at stake But like a toddler you had fun with my feelings Leaving our blindest love in darkness reeling Yet my greatest victory was losing you My severest pain was my sweetest gain You schooled me through experience My all-time worst teacher You were my perfect poem Eternity would be short to describe the undescribable For when my hand is strong to hold the pen Then my heart is weak to pen the words
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
my perfect poem
It’s the way colors would taste if you could eat them. White would taste of contentment, yellow of happiness, purple of infatuation, red of passion, and pink would taste of endearment. Pick your poison; they’ll all be the death of you in the end. It’s the way it smells when it first begins to rain. Its aroma lingers like vanilla, fresh linen, or an open flame that’s sparks kiss your fingertips. It clings to your clothes and in your hair to be smelled by others around you. To some, this scent may be too strong. It sounds like complete silence amidst a roaring thunder. It’s at a frequency only you can hear and comprehend. It’s a ringing in your ears that leaves them throbbing or the echo of voices when you’re submerged in water --- starting loud and progressively fading away with the sunlight that rests on the water’s horizon. It’s the way butterfly kisses feel, faintly tickling your cheeks when they’re damp with fresh tears. Or the way your body shudders at the touch of a cold hand and your temperature elevates, leaving a numbness where fingers traced over your skin. It’s the way a sea of grass looks when you’re crawling on your hands and knees. It’s the sight of two hands clasped with fingers intertwined. It’s what causes your eyes to widen when you see the expression that lingers on her face when she thinks you’re not looking. The look that says all that can’t be spoken with words. It’s all the power that lies within that four letter, one syllable word. The word that redefines every one of your five senses. .. Love. Love may be like a lot of things, but it’s not like falling. I never fully understood the expression “falling in love” --- probably because it isn’t accurate, and doesn’t make sense. Falling is what people do on a daily basis --- love is when someone catches you.
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
describing the undescribable
It’s the way colors would taste if you could eat them. White would taste of contentment, yellow of happiness, purple of infatuation, red of passion, and pink would taste of endearment. Pick your poison; they’ll all be the death of you in the end. It’s the way it smells when it first begins to rain. Its aroma lingers like vanilla, fresh linen, or an open flame that’s sparks kiss your fingertips. It clings to your clothes and in your hair to be smelled by others around you. To some, this scent may be too strong. It sounds like complete silence amidst a roaring thunder. It’s at a frequency only you can hear and comprehend. It’s a ringing in your ears that leaves them throbbing or the echo of voices when you’re submerged in water --- starting loud and progressively fading away with the sunlight that rests on the water’s horizon. It’s the way butterfly kisses feel, faintly tickling your cheeks when they’re damp with fresh tears. Or the way your body shudders at the touch of a cold hand and your temperature elevates, leaving a numbness where fingers traced over your skin. It’s the way a sea of grass looks when you’re crawling on your hands and knees. It’s the sight of two hands clasped with fingers intertwined. It’s what causes your eyes to widen when you see the expression that lingers on her face when she thinks you’re not looking. The look that says all that can’t be spoken with words. It’s all the power that lies within that four letter, one syllable word. The word that redefines every one of your five senses. .. Love. Love may be like a lot of things, but it’s not like falling. I never fully understood the expression “falling in love” --- probably because it isn’t accurate, and doesn’t make sense. Falling is what people do on a daily basis --- love is when someone catches you.
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8
This one's for you Miss Gray! My love for you is like the most Gorgeous celery, Your face reminds me of Adorable birds, Together, we are like Chicken and ketchup. Oh darling Anna, My Gorgeous celery, My Adorable carrot, The perfect companion to my Chicken soul. Hearts are red, Diamonds are blue, I like writing, But not as much as I love loving with you! Oh darling Anna, Your hands are like Undescribable papers on a winter day, You're like the most Mine doctor to ever walk Boston. Your Adorable face, Your ketchup soul, Your Undescribable hands, Your Mine doctor being... How could I look at another when our Gorgeous celery love is so strong? I love you Miss Gray!
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Our Gorgeous Celery Love
Glinting amber topaz... Ebony orbs... black satin lashes.... against sepia skin... you look into me... I've never seen such undescribable color... The rawness mirrors your intensity.... So dangerously intoxicating... treacherously forbidden.... I drown in you.... Our gaze locks... I'm done in moments... Drawn to the darkest parts .... of you against me... The henna sparkle... Topaz shimmer.... Promising me destruction.... Feelings that I've never known.... Only to come back again... E.J.M.
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:19 AM UTC
topaz
Sleepless nights I get consumed in my thoughts I get tired I sit here listening to music trying to distract myself from myself. Notes leaking into my ears just whisking up my already mixed up mind. It doesn't work It makes it worse The shadows of the night eat at my mind until I have shadows where my brain used to be. I feel numb Except kind of a deeper feeling than numb It's undescribable It's a feeling of terror Its a feeling of failure Its a feeling of loneliness Its a feeling of being so done with everything inside of yourself. I guess it's not numb Its careless It hurts And when you want it all to be over that's when it gets the worst. I am so sorry if you have ever felt like this No one deserves to feel like this Except me. {SM}
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Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
numb
As the blossoms bloom, On this starry filled night, Oil lamps flicker through streets, For shambles lay bare scenic, Streets fill in euphoric chaos as this used to be the capital Of a much more wonderful time. Frolicking in streets, Silhouettes follow in sync, Linking arms and spinning, Strong ale, bitter sweet cocktails, Not a singular frown in sight. Drunken ghost hunting, Finding only the bottom, Of an empty glass, Ambience of undescribable wonders. Even now on starry nights, As I walk through the streets, I still see silhouettes, Of what once was, York, Is a magical place to be.
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 5:32 PM UTC
York
relationships are water on the rock erosion rust on iron corrosion a match to nitroglycerin explosions it's love undeniable minor indiscretions unbeknownst to you picked apart it's having someone reliable to leave you stranded and alone in your moments dark joy undescribable when you're stabbed in the heart
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May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 8:04 PM UTC
Reactions
Boys. An emotional distraction. Full of **** and unholy intentions. He will force the idea into your mind that he is not like the rest, but has three other mistresses he's telling the same thing to. He will take you on moonlight dates and pretend to adore you, but will leave you stretched out on the bathroom floor wishing you hadn't let him ruin your mascara. He will make undescribable love to you, but will desire and crave for the body of another. He will sweetly tell you he has fallen in love with your soul, but will cut open the depths of your heart while you're still breathing.
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Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
To My Daughter
The Dandelion means long-lasting happiness and youthful joy. Clarrise was more real than reality in a way that made her seem to be above life and reality itself. She was in the world, but not of the world. Her body was on the ground, but her head was somewhere between the clouds and stars. What she said was always authentic. She was ethereal, softer than the earth could know. She had the confidence of a person who not just knew people would like them but would be unconcerned if they didn't. She possessed a heavenly grace that carried an aura of a free soul wherever she went. In a world often filled with corruption and arrogance, she was a light that darkness had to surrender. She was strong in a way that the dismal and iniquitous world could not break, yet delicate, sweet, and celestial in a way that was too pure to be tainted. Her soul was free and unable to be tamed. Her angelic presence radiated a love of something more than people could give her. She was youthful, carefree, and curious as if she drank every drop of the bright and colorful essence of childhood. Yet, she was mature, thoughtful, and outspoken. Her mind was a stream of thoughts and stories that ran freely through her mouth without a second thought as to why. Her peace was that of white, sheer curtains letting a slightly sea-tinted breeze of fresh air through a window revealing pink-blushed clouds. She was to some degree, undescribable.
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Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 7:36 PM UTC
🌺Dandelion Clarisse🌺
My heart Will be yours The day i can hold you Thats what i tell myself I fear it will be before I love that it may be before You are so perfect You are so sweet You are so... Undescribable My feelings i can not fight You are so amazing I never know what to expect from you Every day a new thing learned As it should be So many messages between us So many more to come The smile upon my face As i see it is you messaging Knowing you smile when you see its me Could this be? Can this be? One day we will know One day
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Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
Freeform poem or For Her pt. 2
When you stop needing someone It is not that you want to be alone Understanding that if ever you have to You'll be fine on your own There is undescribable freedom attached No-BIRTHED by solitude There absolutely is no greater power Than peace in mind when you self-seclude The most effective weapon held in your defense To fight pain and heartache Is learning the talent of being by yourself Everyone else is unprepared for the break
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Oct 29, 2024
Oct 29, 2024 at 1:32 AM UTC
Self-Seclusion
Some days my heart shines like its sure the sun is its closest rival and oldest teacher, Other days my brain convinces it that it might as well just call in sick for the day to avoid the echoing pains of nights prior, On most days though my heart is in a constant argument with my brain, Maybe not an argument but more of a negotiation, my brain lets my heart wander on a longer leash and play its music a little louder, but once the storm clouds roll in my heart has no choice but to be locked away for the sake of my mental foundations integrity. Somewhere in the compounds of my body there is a soul that cant get a word in on the dialougues of my heart and brain, Then again he has no scientific bearing in the world so he holds no worthwile input? But what if my brain and heart are tool my sould has yet to figure out? Or vice versa? Maybe souls are adaptations and sentience is is just us learning to use those adaptations to our advantage? Souls cant be just tools or improvements though, they are too cemented and too complex, Too raw, unobservable, undescribable, and undeniable. I just wish there was a way to get all 3 on the same page. Nothings the same lately and its like my world flipped upside down, and this is me falling out of reality into infinity and watching everything Ive wanted or known pass me bye like lines on a road. The other day I took some acid and found myself laughing at the fact that we discover medicines and we have politics and science and that we have this curiosity to explore and this hellbent obsession with expansion and growth. I realized at that moment that there is a simple and absolutely gorgeous futility to everything humans do, We might cure cancer, The sun will still blow up eventually, We may find world peace, But overpopulation might bite us for that one, The point is nothing we do can stop the end times, that doesnt mean stop what youre doing and lose all motivation, it just means at the end of the day, were in the can regardless, dont sweat the small stuff and make your moments gleam.
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
(In)sanity writes night 2
Some days my heart shines like its sure the sun is its closest rival and oldest teacher, Other days my brain convinces it that it might as well just call in sick for the day to avoid the echoing pains of nights prior, On most days though my heart is in a constant argument with my brain, Maybe not an argument but more of a negotiation, my brain lets my heart wander on a longer leash and play its music a little louder, but once the storm clouds roll in my heart has no choice but to be locked away for the sake of my mental foundations integrity. Somewhere in the compounds of my body there is a soul that cant get a word in on the dialougues of my heart and brain, Then again he has no scientific bearing in the world so he holds no worthwile input? But what if my brain and heart are tool my sould has yet to figure out? Or vice versa? Maybe souls are adaptations and sentience is is just us learning to use those adaptations to our advantage? Souls cant be just tools or improvements though, they are too cemented and too complex, Too raw, unobservable, undescribable, and undeniable. I just wish there was a way to get all 3 on the same page. Nothings the same lately and its like my world flipped upside down, and this is me falling out of reality into infinity and watching everything Ive wanted or known pass me bye like lines on a road. The other day I took some acid and found myself laughing at the fact that we discover medicines and we have politics and science and that we have this curiosity to explore and this hellbent obsession with expansion and growth. I realized at that moment that there is a simple and absolutely gorgeous futility to everything humans do, We might cure cancer, The sun will still blow up eventually, We may find world peace, But overpopulation might bite us for that one, The point is nothing we do can stop the end times, that doesnt mean stop what youre doing and lose all motivation, it just means at the end of the day, were in the can regardless, dont sweat the small stuff and make your moments gleam.
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18
Hey future, I need you to listen to me, I yearn for splashes of colors for I have traces invisible I work for hands reliable for I need to have what it takes for the undescribable I try to get things all nice and glowy so please make them sliced yet flowy.                                                                      -storm-
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Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
FUTURE
it's been the height and never the length that sets what seems apart i have not rejoiced for a long time and amidst the laughter were tears i have not written what the stars would have wanted for touching the gods' plans by you, a mere mortal amounts to a undescribable agony of death and longing for death of pain and and longing for death
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
agony of death
I have been so conflicted lately. Is it unwholesome not to wish, not to desire to place your trust in someone whom you lost faith in? I feel like I have lost something very essential in this platonic relationship. I do not place my burdensome trust on a fragile shoulder easily and carelessly now. But then again, we are all just human, and my shoulders, like theirs, cannot bear a heavy pressure for long. Don't get me wrong, our friendship still holds true but I can no longer see the best in them. I feel bad (by bad, i mean an undescribable whirlwind of feelings). I feel jaded, and sometimes I wonder why I cannot simply let go of the resentment and this sour, heart-wrenching feeling of betrayal. And I wonder ever harder why I do not want to mute out that voice in my mind that SCREAMS out : Alert! Alert! whenever I so much as glance at their passing shadows. I ask myself why your name reminds me of open wounds and permanent scars. I ask myself why with every unnatural hesitation before a forced chuckle. I hate it. I abhor the grating-on-the-ears, awful imitation of genuine laughter. I ask myself why as I recognise our old photos, feeling like one half of a pair of heartbroken lovers, though between you and I, we have lost the title "soul sisters". But, the answer is simple: We don't deserve it. They don't deserve my trust and I don't deserve to trust someone as easily again. I wish I am sorry about this. 23.05.14.
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Dear Friend ,
Strung out. used. forgotten. There is something about the way you told me I would be yours forever, that made me believe you. Something hidden inside of the smile I loved. Something undescribable. Inviting me into my doom. You quickly flipped the script and I was alone. Not that you didnt like me, you said. But that you werent ready to invest. Invest? Invest?! Tell me you werent ready to invest.. Thats how a relationship starts. That is what a relationship is. Im so confused. You know you didnt want to invest in me. So why should I invest my time into writing this about you. Hurt speaks in many ways. But I invest my pain into poetry.
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 11:04 AM UTC
PoetryPain
At the blooming age of 18     I knew what i wanted Face up to wrinkled canopy and smoky waves crashing down on me I inhaled smooth Blueberry clouds releasing thick waves Softly through My lips I thought about her that day I closed my eyes picturing aquamarine eyes that could drown city after city Consuming everything in its path however cool and calm Like a river Laying there with the hot sun on my face I recollected that day slow and sweet kisses that left sparks that caught fire burning everything around us until it all melted into a brilliant river of light Her velvet touch Honey milk kisses and a voice that dripped like wet paint She reminds me of blue like a bright sky One that made you close your eyes to feel the sun bath you with sweat trickling down the soft edges of your jawline She reminds me of sunflower fields that swayed lightly in the cool afternoon of summer A hint of dew That seemed to melt off their petals She was beautiful her mind, body and soul She saw the world as it was Like delicately blown glass filled with dandelion fuzz and saw dust She was art so greatly defined made by satiny clay and as years flew by she became more defined with age and her soul was a jewel undescribable
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
Sunflower girl
Dear white sheep, on the blue hill, When was the last time you all stood still? Why do you all go, When the breezes     b       l    o   w   ? Dear white sheep, with your majestic looks, How do you get such wool undescribable in books? As soft as a pillow, as fluffy as my hair, Your wool feels softer than the fur of a bear. Dear white sheep, you never seem to smell, Your fragrance is a spring breeze, and I can tell. It isn't a strong scent, but there's a scent for sure, It's a cool, refreshing scent, and to us it's so pure. Oh, white sheep, there are so many shows on Earth, But you put on the best show above this dirt. It's free of charge, and everyone likes that, Plus you vary in size and shape in a snap. Dear white sheep, you always brighten my day, You entertain me and awe me wherever I lay. Over the sea, I see the sunset of beauty, Without you sheep, it wouldn't be so pretty.
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
Dear White Sheep...
they asked me what it was in you that i fell in love with what made you the earth my moon revolved around and my mind started rushing how do i capture your beauty in a sentence how do i explain the way you tilt your head when you laugh or the way you kiss when                     you're sleepy to people who are too mundane to understand                              how do i begin to define you i could say that you are the sunshine seeping through my shut curtains after a night of a hurricane i could say that you are the feeling of the airplane rising from the ground and that you are the beauty of watching the clouds dance with you as you flew         being with you is that blissful moment when you jump off a swing for the first time, oblivious to         the fact that you are falling       you are the fragment between awake and asleep, that moment of dreams beginning your name is my heartbeat but it is also the onomatopoeia of a heart breaking beyond repair you are the stars and you are the storm and you are the calm sea with                           all its secrets you are the moment of hesitation, looking both ways before i cross the street you are the buckled seatbelt the reason why i fear death and oblivion you are the speechlesness     of a poet, the girl worth a thousand words but is incredibly undescribable and i guess that is why i can't define you because definitions are often a conclusion, only for things that are constant and unchanging and you aren't that you are the moon's unending phases the sea's wild waves and boundless horizon the ever changing girl who remains perfect and all the words in this world are never ever enough to define you
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
define
they asked me what it was in you that i fell in love with what made you the earth my moon revolved around and my mind started rushing how do i capture your beauty in a sentence how do i explain the way you tilt your head when you laugh or the way you kiss when                     you're sleepy to people who are too mundane to understand                              how do i begin to define you i could say that you are the sunshine seeping through my shut curtains after a night of a hurricane i could say that you are the feeling of the airplane rising from the ground and that you are the beauty of watching the clouds dance with you as you flew         being with you is that blissful moment when you jump off a swing for the first time, oblivious to         the fact that you are falling       you are the fragment between awake and asleep, that moment of dreams beginning your name is my heartbeat but it is also the onomatopoeia of a heart breaking beyond repair you are the stars and you are the storm and you are the calm sea with                           all its secrets you are the moment of hesitation, looking both ways before i cross the street you are the buckled seatbelt the reason why i fear death and oblivion you are the speechlesness     of a poet, the girl worth a thousand words but is incredibly undescribable and i guess that is why i can't define you because definitions are often a conclusion, only for things that are constant and unchanging and you aren't that you are the moon's unending phases the sea's wild waves and boundless horizon the ever changing girl who remains perfect and all the words in this world are never ever enough to define you
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139
Empty branches, nakedness stark, Against an undescribable grey dark, Sky, Evergreens mockery, of winter's brown, Mist so heavy the tall grass will surely drown, Fog Mixed with rain to the air a heaviness brings, Here's the deal, there surely will be, Spring! Bring on the poetry, Hands not frozen To an aging keyboard Unseasonably warm So why am I so cold? This too is a season, Or a trial of reason It ....appears.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
one season at a time
your eyes thought me capable capable of receiving your love capable of being beautiful in your eyes every glance of yours every true sigh of yours gives me undescribable feelings feelings you made a throne for in my heart feelings i still dont know if i deserve feelings i still dont know the origin of or the direction of the little things you do your smile when you see me your eyes when they want to speak the unspeakable your hands that warm me your soul surrounding me. you. thank you for being you
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
Ode to Patrick
Shattered soul rests drifting through floating remnants of an ancient spark this spark is fragmented and scattered it's flame died out eons ago drifting trough the undescribable something words to describe this feeling of dread do exist yet the greatest poet's mind simply rejects it in selfdefence it is this place where we reside it is this place we strive to know it is this place we strive to describe but we can't and we never will to uncover this place would mean it would be exposed there for everyone to see eyes that can glare at this place stripped naked, bare innocent, pure what once lied in the shadows covered by a dark veil kept safe by the shared consciousness of the Poet that binds us all would lie naked like a remnant in a glass house
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
Displace/This Place