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"untrusting" poems
no weapons, no drugs. he had the eyeballs of an aztlan prince. touches water. touches hot-grill to meat /repeat/ /replete with cerveza.                 to roil in love of sun said lights, all things lovely.                 to return by city driven lights, lake to shore to shoulder. [to sleep.] [to dream.] dad is on the grill, cookin’ up something scorched. swill is on the lake, skiin’ up something else. sweat & stretching lungs, the sun busting gut. unseen, bikini pink & green sauce. pass the tortillas. winterous: awake. ice-fish and stoke the pipes of flash and holy hash. ice-fish our favorite frozen mass. we all grow beards, untrusting of men who wobble blades to their faces on the daily. spring sprung and spigot. we return to blushing shores of wet rocks & girlfriends. girl bands exploding amps from atop houseboats in styles of the highly drunk and tameless. plucked in memory of the ******* to come before them.
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
avian
Seek freedom from the anxious mind For, you have the freedom to choose Break the shackles of intimidation Claim your freedom for the sleeping madness Wake up to a world of freedom, for it’s yours Freedom for the prejudices and the dogmas Claim your freedom for the untrusting world Freedom beckons you from the deepest caverns Thwart the advances of violence, and seize freedom Do not pay heed to the abusive words As your freedom to speak up is jeopardized The weakest of hearts and minds, resort to violence And their abode inside is wrecked by loss of freedom You freedom will come when you walk out Opening the gates of your heart to freedom The weak personalities seeks to strangle freedom To dominate the beautiful souls, as they feel threatened Assert your freedom; this is becoming a puppet’s world Always made to act when the strings are pulled There is a world full of love and freedom waiting for you You just have to cross the threshold of the murky world Only you can win your freedom, if you choose to Seek freedom, and slam the door on the world of captivity © Amitav (Radiance)
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Freedom
Fear, Is a battle. Fear is a Disease. My disease. Fear, puts me in places, That I know I shouldn't be in. Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why. See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of. It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death. Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another. Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. Ah...you see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt. Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear. In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can. Trust is powerful. But fear cuts deep. When trust, faith, in someone is broken... Well...we've all been there at some point. When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken. At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing. Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there. Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends. But, in a few of us... In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears. Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail. Trust is gone. Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything. Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Fear. Trust. They walk, hand in hand. Toe, to toe. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying. Her energy is not limitless. At times like these... Hope, is not enough. Trust has died. The only way, to restore the balance, Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust. It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't. At times like these, I need the trust of someone, Who is willing to share, With one, who trusts no one.
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
A Story of Fear, Trust, and Hope.
Fear, Is a battle. Fear is a Disease. My disease. Fear, puts me in places, That I know I shouldn't be in. Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why. See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of. It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death. Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another. Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. Ah...you see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt. Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear. In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can. Trust is powerful. But fear cuts deep. When trust, faith, in someone is broken... Well...we've all been there at some point. When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken. At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing. Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there. Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends. But, in a few of us... In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears. Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail. Trust is gone. Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything. Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Fear. Trust. They walk, hand in hand. Toe, to toe. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying. Her energy is not limitless. At times like these... Hope, is not enough. Trust has died. The only way, to restore the balance, Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust. It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't. At times like these, I need the trust of someone, Who is willing to share, With one, who trusts no one.
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53
I play softball, She comes to my game, She starts playing softball. I'm a catcher, She's a catcher. I'm first base, She's first base. I'm pitcher, She's a pitcher. I'm agrivated, She's amused. I'm taking lessons, She's taking lessons. I'm not a catcher, She's a catcher. I'm a pitcher, She's not a pitcher. Copy Cat. I join a team, She joins two teams. I practice hard in my backyard, She claims she does also. I admit I take lessons, She refuses to admit the fact that She takes lessons because She's untrusting.
0
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
Her
I like to laugh and smile like any other kid but you decided that I was undeserving of being liked of being loved of being myself I wasn't cool I wasn't trendy I wasn't sporty I was just being myself I am quirky I am intellegent I am creative You Don't care! You are relentless You are misguided You are ruthless Who hurt you so bad? You have friends You have fashion You have popularity Is that not enough? I am now untrusting I am now anxious I am now depressed It still hurts till this day! I have grown to resent you! I have grown to hate you! Why aren't you dead yet? I'm sure the feeling is mutual You hurt me because Someone hurt you When does this vicious cycle end?
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 12:06 PM UTC
Hello Bully
To my dear friend, or so I thought, your actions have made it clear, Our friendship’s come to an end, and you truly have taught, that I no longer need you here. I truly know now, what a true friend should be, and it ‘s not the definition of you Because today you showed me how, to open my eyes and see that your intentions were never true. Now you’re just digging a hole, it gets deeper as you say, things that make others weak, Next time think of the toll, that you will have to pay, when you don’t think before you speak. The moral of the story, that I want you to hear, is that you shouldn’t be an untrusting friend, Because you’ll lose all your glory, you’ll cause many tears, and bring relationships to an end. In life you’ll have people who’ll say they’re your friends, but honesty is what they lack Because they will take out a knife, To end your whole life, But instead stick it right in your back.
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Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 9:59 PM UTC
Sleight Heart
This reoccurring nightmare overrules me deep in sleep Won’t wake me from my slumber, Imprisons me in this keep I try to run, I try to scream. This is my certainty Stuck in this bad dream There, all about me are these stone cold walls Over-protecting, so suspicious, untrusting … They guard my soul. Asking why are they so **** tall. Restricting my heart I’m bound. Powerless, I trail this authority What hope is there now? I pray in this frigid nightmare for the strength that I won’t break Eager to be released from this lonely place I’ll lie right here. My sanity they can’t take.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Nightmare
Its a phantom in my conscience that haunts my evenings often but is gone when the sun arises where the tortures remain constant I am not what you see these were not my dreams a cartoon buffoon for you to point and laugh with glee This isnt why I did this I didnt know the expense I put my heart for all to see to verify my existence Trying to exorcise my insides by the tears that I cry but it doesnt wash away the pain within my mind When most of these people only see me for my alter ego they want the struggling of my soul searching to always remain feeble So sorry Im untrusting all I wanted was a friend yet again when I have nothing theyre all gone with the wind Hollow another bottle heres another ***** be our joker of sorrow expose your madness some more Youre here for our amusement you have a gift so use it split your personality give us the one that self abuses Why are you so quiet? its not the Jeremy that I know isnt it time to riot? where is your red nose?
0
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
Clown
I will not jump Straight off a cliff Where I've already broken myself to bits.
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
I'm too scared and too untrusting to jump.
That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. I take a peek at you through my Wells goggles. I've had a sip too much of my grapefruit ***** and we are the only two people in the bar. I'm light as a feather and with gin nipping at our noses, we let Jack Frost drive the car that night. That's the thing though, sober or not it's all the same game. The wells is just gasoline to ignite our volatile roulette. Drink number two still as pink but this time I'm ******* faster. I'm trying to imagine that the lime at the bottom taste like your lips and I am inching towards your soul. That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. Chemical malfunctions in our past, led us to that moment. Infinite understanding of misunderstanding. I'm light as a feather and I let you drive home, but I never asked if I could stay. I cannot do simple math to save myself from blushing. As people start trickling in I count my breath and catch the eye of a familiar stranger. He was wearing the most arousing scarf. I wish that was your scarf. With Jack Frost waiting in the car and grapefruit in my veins I count the steps synchronising the strides with my heartbeat. **** it's cold. Please let me hold your hand. Pack the bowl, pack the **** pack the one-y Isn't it funny that rhymes with honey. Glossy eyes and records. Your White as fresh snow sheets. I digress. Why do you always make me leave? I could just lie with you, I'd just like to listen to you. We talk, but vaguely. I wish you'd open up to me. I'm sorry. Comfort keeps us swollen, but what we have is frail. Maybe I don't love you, but I don't feel cold to you either. Give me something to think about when you aren't around. You're my friend. Platonic, no depth, just silence. My vocal absence attempts to create space for your stories. What are you about? How did you get here? What happened to make you untrusting of my company? These are these things you think I cannot see. Somewhere in our cloud of smoke is the door to your heart. I don't want it to be mine, I just want it to tell me stories.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
Frost, Liquor, **** Repeat
That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. I take a peek at you through my Wells goggles. I've had a sip too much of my grapefruit ***** and we are the only two people in the bar. I'm light as a feather and with gin nipping at our noses, we let Jack Frost drive the car that night. That's the thing though, sober or not it's all the same game. The wells is just gasoline to ignite our volatile roulette. Drink number two still as pink but this time I'm ******* faster. I'm trying to imagine that the lime at the bottom taste like your lips and I am inching towards your soul. That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy. Chemical malfunctions in our past, led us to that moment. Infinite understanding of misunderstanding. I'm light as a feather and I let you drive home, but I never asked if I could stay. I cannot do simple math to save myself from blushing. As people start trickling in I count my breath and catch the eye of a familiar stranger. He was wearing the most arousing scarf. I wish that was your scarf. With Jack Frost waiting in the car and grapefruit in my veins I count the steps synchronising the strides with my heartbeat. **** it's cold. Please let me hold your hand. Pack the bowl, pack the **** pack the one-y Isn't it funny that rhymes with honey. Glossy eyes and records. Your White as fresh snow sheets. I digress. Why do you always make me leave? I could just lie with you, I'd just like to listen to you. We talk, but vaguely. I wish you'd open up to me. I'm sorry. Comfort keeps us swollen, but what we have is frail. Maybe I don't love you, but I don't feel cold to you either. Give me something to think about when you aren't around. You're my friend. Platonic, no depth, just silence. My vocal absence attempts to create space for your stories. What are you about? How did you get here? What happened to make you untrusting of my company? These are these things you think I cannot see. Somewhere in our cloud of smoke is the door to your heart. I don't want it to be mine, I just want it to tell me stories.
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31
Social relations.      Fading, dissipating.            Regenerated and rebuilding. Everything held deep spills out over past memories and future broken promises.      Talking of brighter days with different time lines. Watching, talking, passively dissecting minds of those like mine.           All investigating our inner workings and imagined surroundings.                      It's in the waking hours of the dawn. It's when time is irrelevant.         When the new day brings nothing but revelations and unfiltered ramblings.                Anything to fill this  void.    The morning air feels stale compared to renewed awakenings. Constantly picking at the scab.           Digging for one last laugh.                                         A final smile.                        The perfect ending for the night we might forget.       We forge new mental pathways and plan play dates. Evolutionary socialization.             Cigarettes serve as reality checks and mirrored reflections.                          Open eyes burning for something tangible.                  Awake and unaware.        Filtering through the nonsense and intellectual genius. Trying to read the dusted lessons buried between advice and elaborate fairy tales.    We speak of ideas.      We speak of all the things that rest on the ledge of our understanding.         We dream of what it is and what it could be. All seeking growth.       All staying just within the caution tape. Ponderous wondering of connections and false enlightenment.                                                I remain skeptical even though I've felt it.   My mind has always held an untrusting grudge against my intuition.      In the end it's just another day.                               Contributions minimal.                  Lessons learned... Still settling their sediments.         They're Remnants.
0
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
RamblingDawn
Social relations.      Fading, dissipating.            Regenerated and rebuilding. Everything held deep spills out over past memories and future broken promises.      Talking of brighter days with different time lines. Watching, talking, passively dissecting minds of those like mine.           All investigating our inner workings and imagined surroundings.                      It's in the waking hours of the dawn. It's when time is irrelevant.         When the new day brings nothing but revelations and unfiltered ramblings.                Anything to fill this  void.    The morning air feels stale compared to renewed awakenings. Constantly picking at the scab.           Digging for one last laugh.                                         A final smile.                        The perfect ending for the night we might forget.       We forge new mental pathways and plan play dates. Evolutionary socialization.             Cigarettes serve as reality checks and mirrored reflections.                          Open eyes burning for something tangible.                  Awake and unaware.        Filtering through the nonsense and intellectual genius. Trying to read the dusted lessons buried between advice and elaborate fairy tales.    We speak of ideas.      We speak of all the things that rest on the ledge of our understanding.         We dream of what it is and what it could be. All seeking growth.       All staying just within the caution tape. Ponderous wondering of connections and false enlightenment.                                                I remain skeptical even though I've felt it.   My mind has always held an untrusting grudge against my intuition.      In the end it's just another day.                               Contributions minimal.                  Lessons learned... Still settling their sediments.         They're Remnants.
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34
*I am a high-maintenance client. I am a sad scared little girl. I am an angry rebellious teenager. I am a self-reliant woman with above average intelligence. I am sad and small. I am overbearing and demanding. I am questioning and untrusting. I am sarcastic and amusing. I am outgoing and reserved. I am determined and strong but also fearful and weak. I am honest but withholding. I am compassionate and giving and yet also hard and cold. I am stubborn and willful. I hide behind the facade of a woman I want to be. I feel nothing and too much at the same time. I am the life of the party but never really present. I am beautiful crystal on the outside but shards of broken glass on the inside. I will endure a hurricane to take away someone else’s pain and turmoil and yet I cannot seem to do the same for myself.* I am the product of a man who wanted me in controlling and abusive ways.
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Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
I am
Run with this cauldron, ladle out soup To the soldiers of our land In the field of battle, lay out a cloth And let them stretch their bloodied limbs as they eat Their minds are weary, untrusting Each spoonful less viscous than its predecessor A succession of leaders repeated in their heads Every dead soldier, a reason for abdication The people hate the war they’ve started The fools! No matter how much soup I take to them No matter how watery the broth Each day they watch me leave the front Each day I walk alone back to base And munitions are airlifted daily
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Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC
Third World Peace
I should be happy, but as much as I try... i cant be. I try to sleep but i cant, smiling just happens now, whether im happy, or sad. Today was a sad day. And I dont know why. I dont understand why i want to die. I want to leave. be all alone, with no one but myself. I have "friends", "family" and thats the problem. My family and friends are really figments of imagination. Ive got that girl, that I adore. I want her forever. But I for some reason dont believe that, she will miss me when im gone.. why is it like this? Must be because of my past, all the times i've been lied to.. all the times ive been hurt. Its killed me inside, I cant trust.. I dont know how. My friend says im an angel, she can never be mad at me, its this just to keep my happy? She could be lying just like the rest, waiting for me to crash, ready to laugh when I cry. I tell her everything, hoping she wont spread it. Im afraid everynight that something will get out. So as I die. I leave nothing behind. Because life is my un trusting friend. -anurag
0
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 5:55 AM UTC
my untrusting friend
The lines on my hands are dotted, and I’m waiting in vain to fill the space with some clarity. I see a level head, yet my heart line looks faulty and untrusting. Criss-crosses are etched into the line of my life. Weaving themselves outward, they touch each aspect of my being- Representing deep waters from out of the blue; which subsequently alters until I’m submerged in wisdom. Although my hands are a gift in the way of my future, I’m stuck in this present moment- wandering. I try to listen but fear that I won't hear is trapped in my ears. I look to my treading feet... they won’t speak. In the silence of myself i’ll find truth that not even time will tell. Seek answers within, search no longer. In, out. My breath, eloquent in all its simplicity, gives me a map of the wind’s movement, the earth’s energy and my soul’s path.
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Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 2:51 AM UTC
III
Working on a large sheep prperty once On days not much doing way out dig cactus One day doing just this I caught a flash Owner on his old horse up a hill for practice Watching me the old coot he was that day To see if I on my own  was doing my work The sun sent me a flash from his binoculars The old guy was an untrusting kind of **** Just below me a soil erosion twent feet deep That ran for about a real good mile away I rode down and right up it for a mile And right up behind him fifty tards I say Tied up my horse sat under a big old tree Rolled myself a smoke and watched him Looking all over away down there was he Chances finding me down there were slim He was getting so frustrated binoculars too Where the hell did that bloke go he said Looking all about for me that day was he I just smiled rolled another smoke instead Him standing in his old half worn saddle Where the hell did that bloke I ask go I'll be having a real good talk to him later Can't trust anyone I said nows a good ya know http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa290/tracymay27/CowboyCampFire.jpg terrence michael sutton copyright 2018
0
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 5:55 AM UTC
WHERE THE HELL DID HE GO TO
Oh gentle eyes see nothing but greatness. And greatness seeks nothing except success. But success can be brought down by lies and arrogance. Lies make the soul weak and untrusting. Arrogance makes the heart cold and entitled. Is weak, untrusting, cold and entitled gentle and full of greatness? For what do our eyes deceive except for what he wants us to? For what does our soul deceive except for the peaceful death among everyone? For what does our eyes cherish of all the misguided beauty of helpless creatures? For what does our soul cherish except for the pain in the eyes of a dying butterfly? Oh so gentle eyes see the beauty and regret full of greatness in this disaster of a land. Oh gentle eyes at last you seek the truth.
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
Oh Gentle Eyes
terror in portals of rapture twin mirrors reflect possible dolor untrusting, yet entwined so amenable. immediate submergence, reverence of marred flesh intelligible infatuation inevitable. howbeit, efflorescence devotion find a way through; transude into pores inebriated in their fumes. reverie becomes eternal sleep.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 3:39 AM UTC
illogical deluge of adoration
When I was young and lonely, yet wise enough, I'd slipped off my skin and held it out to you and you accepted it. I'd been left with bare bones, then. And as I handed over my lips and eyebrows and fingernails, You accepted those, too. Next I'd slipped out my heart and offered you it, But you refused to take it, and so I'd realised I was left without a coat in the cold winter's blight. Nothing but a skeleton, as frostbite bit at me and I'd stood shivering, my skin in your hands, my heart in mine. The wind hit my back and sent through me shudders and I pleaded for you to give back what had once been mine. But you just stood with eyes like glass, and wordlessly you let me know it was helpless. One by one, I felt my bones begin to freeze from my toes and swiftly traveling up. I couldn't tell then if my shaking came from cold or if it was the blizzard of emotions burying me. At my fingertips I could sense the heart which I still cradled in my hands start to grow rigid and it's beating grew ever more mechanical, losing all energy and life, working routinely and with passion gone. Time stopped altogether and we stood, unmoving. A fleeting warmth, a single hot tear— it barely left my eye before becoming solid. And the silence broke with the sound of your footsteps but there I stayed in stunned paralysis, my eyes locked on the remains of me that you had ****** at my feet and the cold heart I still held. I picked myself up and slipped me back on, the same as I had been before. But my heart I kept frozen, though now it's aware and I won't make that misstep again. With a heart not my own, I'll continue, untrusting— the only part of you I let myself keep.
0
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
Frostbite
When I was young and lonely, yet wise enough, I'd slipped off my skin and held it out to you and you accepted it. I'd been left with bare bones, then. And as I handed over my lips and eyebrows and fingernails, You accepted those, too. Next I'd slipped out my heart and offered you it, But you refused to take it, and so I'd realised I was left without a coat in the cold winter's blight. Nothing but a skeleton, as frostbite bit at me and I'd stood shivering, my skin in your hands, my heart in mine. The wind hit my back and sent through me shudders and I pleaded for you to give back what had once been mine. But you just stood with eyes like glass, and wordlessly you let me know it was helpless. One by one, I felt my bones begin to freeze from my toes and swiftly traveling up. I couldn't tell then if my shaking came from cold or if it was the blizzard of emotions burying me. At my fingertips I could sense the heart which I still cradled in my hands start to grow rigid and it's beating grew ever more mechanical, losing all energy and life, working routinely and with passion gone. Time stopped altogether and we stood, unmoving. A fleeting warmth, a single hot tear— it barely left my eye before becoming solid. And the silence broke with the sound of your footsteps but there I stayed in stunned paralysis, my eyes locked on the remains of me that you had ****** at my feet and the cold heart I still held. I picked myself up and slipped me back on, the same as I had been before. But my heart I kept frozen, though now it's aware and I won't make that misstep again. With a heart not my own, I'll continue, untrusting— the only part of you I let myself keep.
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42
How Can You Stand To Love Me? How Come, You Want To Hold My Already Tainted Body? How Can You Stand To Look In, Eyes Which Are Covered With A Film Of Tears? How Can You Stand To Try To Figure Out, This Enigma Called Sydney? I'm Two Faced, Yet You Kiss Both, You Make Me Want To Lose Myself, And Let The Other Part Of Me Break Free, Though I Will Always Reign Myself, And I Sit With My Head Held High, With That Glittery Golden Crown, Yet How Can You Love This Semi-Barbaric Queen, Surreptitious In Anguish, Untrusting And Diffident? You've Crushed Me, But I Was Malleable And You Resculpted Me, You Left Behind A Few Pieces, Yet How Can You Stand To Love Me?
0
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 8:15 AM UTC
How Can You Stand To Love Me?
Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty hands, pretty *** She handles all those compliments fields all those unwanted stares. Some young guy says something nice, but when she doesn’t acknowledge him he calls her a stuck up ***** Some one grabs her *** Someone presses her up against a wall. Someone raises her blouse. Someone intrudes where he is not meant to. Now she is awkward. Now she is uncomfortable, Now she is untrusting. Now she doesn’t want to be beautiful.
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
Untitled
The only you I see Fighting and bickering Argument after argument  You and him "love" each other but always fight You say it's his fault He says it's mine He reacts by pointing the blame elsewhere Because he is not strong enough to accept that he may be the real reason His insecurity and untrusting  His compassion is his greatest strength and most powerful weakness He loves you so much hes afraid to take blame  To take blame would mean he was wrong To be wrong could mean losing you He's upset because you still hang out with me He's scared because he knows I love you  He's scared because he knows I accept when I **** up  He's scared because I might be the man he could never be He's worried you will leave the man he is for the man  He could be The man That I am Because the only you that I see Is the you in tryoust Is the you in yous Is the you and me You will always be the better part of us But I will always try to better part of me
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
The only you I see