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"versa" poems
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Change is not a possibility, its only a dream.
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
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57
Focus on the Positive but do not shun Negative. Respect the Negative by way of Positive reflection. And, indeed, vice versa; as if some twisted cosmic joke, yin and yang shall interplay e'ermore, ad infinitum.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
Words be funny Tools [Positive, Negative]
I can't change departure into arrival or vice versa I find myself to do one thing I can feel affection
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
AFFECTION
I have this friend           (it's really me) Who has this girlfriend           (who's really she) Who has this quirk           (really several) Which she'd deny           (which is another) She's not anti-gay, Sees right past color, creed and ethnicity; Sees women for being women, Men for men, And any combination thereof, And vice versa. No, she can see right past bigotry, Is blind to prejudice, But has an innate drive that goes straight for wardrobe. From the gowns of celebs, To the color of Alex Trebek's tie. A sartorist, that's what she is.                      *I heard that.           And I am not.*           (contrary too)
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 11:29 PM UTC
Alex Trebek's Tie
By the 1960s, a disillusionment with Nationalism and war was permeating within the public consciousness. Man: jazz. Jazz! Everything sounds like jazz when you lend your hears an oscilloscope. You know what j-a-z-z sounds like? Well, it’s sweet, serendipitous or nonsensical, nihilistic. Modern in stainless steel or anachronistic in brass. Jazz! So what? Jazz sounds like anything that’s everything and vice versa. It’s a limb of that omniscient looker up and over: the tune itself. Oh, the tune? It’s what lies between your fingers when you’re writing, forging, loving, giving, perishing. You strut with the frequency of a conduit, but an unaware one at that. A change is gonna come in mere years, I know that much. Everyone will be deloused in the pain of the world; Mother Sympathy for all, even the charlatans who hide behind their crimson fur! All I’m saying is, whoever brings it ought to be from this place. I can’t fathom a recalcitrant extraterrestrial handling our own business at the expense of their planet’s water supply. I’m excited for whatever comes, believe me. So long as it ends me and with me.
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
Divine Interjection
**I urge that we make ourselves proud… of us I urge that we go into and come out of these polls sober minded, responsible, uncorrupted, without ‘fight’ or ‘fuss’ Uncorrupted I urge that a joyous feeling of an evolving nation moving forward be the only thing we can, in hindsight, say erupted… this upcoming Monday, the following Tuesday I would like to state that a people gunning for peace in these coming days is the only topic I would like to be following in the news today We should see what’s coming as the change of guard it is… and not as a dreaded doomsday You may be black… I may be white, or vice versa… and that’s alright We shouldn't even be asking ourselves “Who’s grey?” I will vote with one heart for one country… my country A country in which I’m confident can keep the peace, you see, we’re kind of good at this I know this because we've had quite a bit of practice I know this because deep down we all want to make peaceful transitions be the Kenyan way I know, I hope… and whenever necessary, I pray Happy voting.**
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
Happy voting... {Poetry For Peace-Kenya}
Why is death referred to as a painful truth? Because everybody dies and not everyone lives? Why is life considered a beautiful lie? Are you really living a full life or one short and full of heartache and pain? The truth of life is that you die, but when it's all over, are you happy with it? Have any regrets? Is death painful? Do you really go to Heaven or Hell? Or do you never open your eyes again, and lie in a coffin 8ft under, rotting until you turn to ash and bone? No one really knows, but it's up for you to decide: Is Life a beautiful lie? Is Death a painful truth? Or is it vice versa? Which will you choose?
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Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
A Painful Truth, A Beautiful Lie
i am just trying to forget you and my stupid heart is playing vice versa            -cute crazy-
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
stupid heart
Looking pigeons and free wishes Clouds are wondering with chirping kisses Looking thou art of sweet dreams! Flawless garden and green eyes like icecream… Oh, my Rainy! Where shall I live, tell me thee Oh, pure love! Calls me! Truly in my dream I feel free… I don’t wake up Because I will be in your dreams Sailing across rivers and oceans… To meet thee! Infinitely till the silver lines shine your way and make your happy forever as your stay! Dark the wind and oceans breezes Dark the sea and the clouds freezes Everything I feel sometimes lament Under the real drops of fearful tears… Sometimes I change my gear And listen to you in my heart You’re more than a divine art … So don’t tell me to wake up Don’t wake me up Dear Let me live just a few more years… Till I depart elsewhere in the vast universe Kiss me softly And become my free verse… Let the vice versa happens in streams of dreams! Oh my Rainy Become my dream! And I will pursue your dream Under the dream… We will cascade new love… Let’s meet in inception… With the speed of light, we will thrill our passion Cherishing each other enthusiasm . .. ….. …….. ………… …………….. …….. … . Like waves… We will wake… Sin cosine Oh my Rainy If you wish We will one day transform imagination Believe me Till I live in your dreams Under the impression of imagination We will spark a new world I guarantee and dancing snow Will be a new hut of enthusiasm Supernatural earth… Supernatural moon… Under the supernatural universe… We will live purely in the heart to heart natural.. Oh, my Rainy! Come when the rain stops Under the digital circuits We will flip flop Stop the watch… With eyes to eyes… We will dream more! Amore and Amore! Oh, my Rainy! We will wish together… And the clouds of love will remain all years… Till we reach the next version of dreams! We will live more than together… Will you come in the dreams of my dreams? If I truly wish in my wishes Looking glass and mirror of the streams! Oh, my Rainy! Brew my heart And drink it! Brew my heart Drink it! Let me be yours completely I am sincere truly Cheers! Oh, my Rainy! Cheers!! Oh, my Rainy! Cheers!!! **** me softly! **** me softly!
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
Oh my Rainy! Am I too in your dreams?
Looking pigeons and free wishes Clouds are wondering with chirping kisses Looking thou art of sweet dreams! Flawless garden and green eyes like icecream… Oh, my Rainy! Where shall I live, tell me thee Oh, pure love! Calls me! Truly in my dream I feel free… I don’t wake up Because I will be in your dreams Sailing across rivers and oceans… To meet thee! Infinitely till the silver lines shine your way and make your happy forever as your stay! Dark the wind and oceans breezes Dark the sea and the clouds freezes Everything I feel sometimes lament Under the real drops of fearful tears… Sometimes I change my gear And listen to you in my heart You’re more than a divine art … So don’t tell me to wake up Don’t wake me up Dear Let me live just a few more years… Till I depart elsewhere in the vast universe Kiss me softly And become my free verse… Let the vice versa happens in streams of dreams! Oh my Rainy Become my dream! And I will pursue your dream Under the dream… We will cascade new love… Let’s meet in inception… With the speed of light, we will thrill our passion Cherishing each other enthusiasm . .. ….. …….. ………… …………….. …….. … . Like waves… We will wake… Sin cosine Oh my Rainy If you wish We will one day transform imagination Believe me Till I live in your dreams Under the impression of imagination We will spark a new world I guarantee and dancing snow Will be a new hut of enthusiasm Supernatural earth… Supernatural moon… Under the supernatural universe… We will live purely in the heart to heart natural.. Oh, my Rainy! Come when the rain stops Under the digital circuits We will flip flop Stop the watch… With eyes to eyes… We will dream more! Amore and Amore! Oh, my Rainy! We will wish together… And the clouds of love will remain all years… Till we reach the next version of dreams! We will live more than together… Will you come in the dreams of my dreams? If I truly wish in my wishes Looking glass and mirror of the streams! Oh, my Rainy! Brew my heart And drink it! Brew my heart Drink it! Let me be yours completely I am sincere truly Cheers! Oh, my Rainy! Cheers!! Oh, my Rainy! Cheers!!! **** me softly! **** me softly!
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One day you will love the blue sky that I see from here, when you ask me why it took me so long to pick you up after work, even though we spend time together in front of the screen—me, who at that time was still glued to the window; looking at some of the birds that managed to fly high into the sky, I'm sure at that time you were able to count them freely. Later, if it rains in the afternoon, you will start to love the sun that never sets, telling you one of the most beautiful ways to leave, you will understand why what is far away seems close, and vice versa - you never prepared anything after parting and I are the people you care about; who also understands nothing but happiness. Later, when the night comes with all its worries, you might find the shadows we've met before, I hope you don't run away. Because, wherever you go, everything will only end up hurting yourself. You may find another pain from loneliness. Do not be afraid. After all, I've taught you how to sew wounds, even though I used to be blind.
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Mar 16, 2023
Mar 16, 2023 at 1:39 PM UTC
A MAN AND THE LAST SOMETHING FOR HIS BELOVED
I feel like going back to those days, when I could feel and not fear it. When I didn't know the world's ways and I didn't yet need my fighting spirit. When I could simply have a romance, nothing complicated or categorized, that would come up by happenstance with no limits needing to be devised. I miss those days, I could awaken find another body next to mine, and not even be mistaken in thinking this won't be the only time. I miss those days with a passion, too often I feel like I'm crashin' straight through the mud and the dirt all the pain and the hurt. I render my poems inert, when I stare in the mirror, see myself crying and dying, insanity getting nearer. I one day hope to rise from it all, stand from the ash, proud and tall, but I know that after I do I'll eventually once again fall. I miss those days in more than a million ways. Watching my eyes glaze over thinking about days over again. I flow my heart into this pen put my soul into what I write now and then. I know I'll be that happy once more, I've got that joy kept in store, for a future when I suture this wounded pride and mind. I've got a stride in mind, for when I return. See the surprise in their faces, I bet they thought I would burn up in the anger like butane. I'm just too hard to contain and I walk through cold rain, thinking about once upon a time, through sweat and grime, You were mine, I was yours, now it's vice versa.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
I Miss Those Days
It isn't a game. But one can definitely lose. There are no competitors. Yet self comparisons fog hind sight. Leading to more dreary backroads that the world forgot about. It was fun for a little while. Telling yourself that you threw away the world and not vise versa. Was truly the greatest lie. One that grew into actual belief for a time. But found that the greatest hell. Is watching your paradise burn. Bound only by disbelief. Dumbfounded. It's a shame that when you lose everything. Somehow your mind is the only thing that stays intact.     As if those aspects were programmed into humans in preparation for it.. And happiness got the short end of the stick. Then to further rub dirt into the wound we create hope. By means of pursuit. Shakespeare knew the questions. And left it up to everyone else to answer. Only as generations pass. We couldnt be further from any resemblance of an answer. Let alone know the question has already been proposed. Writers play with this notion and yield no two pairs alike. Lifes most important knowledge sadly can only come from experiencing it. But with the world in such a desensitized state. The fear of stagnation is becoming the only real possibility. Preposterous? No Predetermined the moment we chose to let others choose for us. There is no freedom. Only sacrifice. Right.
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 4:22 AM UTC
Further
Pearls of words when bought together Glides you into the world another So powerful is their magical effect Can turn an abject to a perfect Vica-versa is equally true So, affair with words is a matter of few Beauty of this affair is always a pleasure Relish every moment of this open treasure Cheers to all who are engaged in this fling For words, add to the feelings that extra bling Bharti
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 5:30 AM UTC
Wordy Affair
I dream of you in ten shades of blue, belly as beastly as the moon as tarred as the rounds of your eyes, I bud feathers beneath the bulbs of my lungs as your chin crepes down to the sun, I dream of you as the cold bites my blossoming cheeks, palms as big as the sky, as bold as my tongue during a spat over and over again, love and hate and versa and versa, I dream of you during my wake as I lay shaking, bones glued to the pulps of my skin, I dream of you but only as I breathe and so then what of my death, will you leave me as she left you and he, I and her and we, baby, baby, tell me, do you often dream of me too?
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Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
of ********** pillow fights
lonely fact of life people go, memories stay; wishing vice versa
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
memories
*i hate to break it to you kid, i'm not mindful of narcissus' economics that's all oh so very modern...* but women are their own orbit, more chance to find a single mother than a single father... it's against nature to make the man without god, as it's against nature to make the woman with god... thus we have the tectonic plates making man with god, accepting or doubting, church or laboratory... and woman... an eroticism of jaw eaten faces... but a kiss to be a fingerprint likened to erasing the dangling of the bitten jaw... erased only once by the aphrodisiac of sirens' wail of aquatic opera so damnable that only one man heard it, while others scolded being in audience with beeswax... and by second chance, erased, indeed, but only by the suffragettes as the new nuns... as the new nuns dare comply to change, like every male become female and vice versa, and the popes disclose their continual loss of matrimony in their misogynistic involvement in ****** if i'm not the pope and do no encounter such practices, i'm not a pope at all! *only a ninth spoke as the necromancer, and of the nine spoke clearest, as it spoke, it dawned on me that sauron was invisible for the sword to strike, a gravity enveloping, a gravity envelope, rather than a skin of infinite diadem sharpenings, for nine rigs unto men, seven unto dwarfs, three unto elves, but none unto the orcs... strange.... ORC ARKHAN MORDOR ARRAC!*
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
the famed aphrodisiac of sirens' wail / ORC ARKHAN MORDOR ARRAC!
Never knew love until I gave birth The love from a mother to a child, vice versa How can you deny a face so sweet? Just to think, we once shared a heartbeat How could I just give up on you? Never. You're my motivation, you're presence fuels me Colic and terrible two's...potty training and I love you's Who could deny a face so sweet? Seem like yesterday, April 13th...A face I couldn't wait to meet I never want to fail you or steer you wrong But how do I explain why your daddy's gone? Why deny a face so sweet? There's so much love I'm wanting to give Teach you the necessary lessons to live From day one I've been by your side Held your hand through low and high tide Am I capable of showing you "double love" Granted, there's no limit to my love for you But I can't love you like a father should do He deny a face so sweet... So special, one of a kind Missing out on all the great times You deserve so much more, a full time father not a boy who comes then snatches your joy Gone. A horrible cycle I put you in Mommy is sorry to call him your kin Never will I deny your face so sweet I am your protector until the end My love for you I'll always send... May not be from your dad but I'll try A face so sweet, you have my heart until I die
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
Autumn
He calls me baby, he tells me that he loves my big brown eyes, he says that my lips are one of his favourite things. He spends his days reassuring me that I have nothing to worry about, that he cares for me and that he loves me, he says that he can't imagine his life without me. That, between the hours when we're not talking I am at the forefront of his mind, he doesn't understand that within each second that he is not in the forefront of my mind he is on my lips, and vice versa. He doesn't understand that the distance between us physically, is more than I can take emotionally. Sometimes he calls me selfish, he says that I only think about myself but I don't think he understands, that everything I want for me, I want because it means I will be his selflessly. He sometimes calls me impatient, but how can I be patient when every day I'm not with him feels like wasted space. He calls me baby like it's my name, when he kisses me it feels like the last time I ever want to be kissed every time. When he puts his hands on the small of my back or the nape of my neck feels like his hands are the only thing keeping my spine from collapsing. When I wake up in the morning and his eyes are the first thing I see it makes me understand why people say there is nothing more beautiful than the sunrise, because it rises in your eyes. I have never known love to be this easy, I always thought love was meant to be complicated and long and serious. He calls me baby like its my name.
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May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
He calls me baby like it's my name.
He calls me baby, he tells me that he loves my big brown eyes, he says that my lips are one of his favourite things. He spends his days reassuring me that I have nothing to worry about, that he cares for me and that he loves me, he says that he can't imagine his life without me. That, between the hours when we're not talking I am at the forefront of his mind, he doesn't understand that within each second that he is not in the forefront of my mind he is on my lips, and vice versa. He doesn't understand that the distance between us physically, is more than I can take emotionally. Sometimes he calls me selfish, he says that I only think about myself but I don't think he understands, that everything I want for me, I want because it means I will be his selflessly. He sometimes calls me impatient, but how can I be patient when every day I'm not with him feels like wasted space. He calls me baby like it's my name, when he kisses me it feels like the last time I ever want to be kissed every time. When he puts his hands on the small of my back or the nape of my neck feels like his hands are the only thing keeping my spine from collapsing. When I wake up in the morning and his eyes are the first thing I see it makes me understand why people say there is nothing more beautiful than the sunrise, because it rises in your eyes. I have never known love to be this easy, I always thought love was meant to be complicated and long and serious. He calls me baby like its my name.
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1
can anyone tell me why East and West are fighting? in an indisputably Round world going West far enough will put you in the East and vice versa in a round view of things people of the east need the same things as people of the west and what about the middle people? what do they need? roundly the same I'd say so roundly I also say otherness is to be avoided otherness to be voided replaced by roundness roundness is to be embraced all around the world so I'll start and put my arms around you like a circle around the sun for I am as round as you
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
round ...
When you feel lost With no intention to be found again Because those who are looking Will lose you The moment they find you Yet you have to choose Between two tough options One in which the content is good But the context is bad And the other one vice versa Only that neither option In addition to their difficulties Have guaranteed outcomes When you are surrounded by people Who on top of your depression Make you feel more depressed And you can't do anything about them Because people change hard The guilt The internal rejection The misery The pressure And then you wonder What all that does to you Being constantly in struggle And not knowing When all this will stop Although you know it won't Because it is related to people And people change hard
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
A BRICK ON A HEART
“instructions on how to destroy yourself from the ground up, and vice versa” i say i think i am a better ghost-- and she says, *dont be so cliche this isnt a fairytale, this isnt Wonderland* , but i was born shoving the barrel of a gun down my throat like it was someone else’s tongue and after a while they start to taste the same less like a herald and more like sour lips curling around a sentence over and over “nobody exists anymore welcome to the Forgotten era--” swallowing glass just so my throat wont feel so empty when she kisses me she says shes sorry when she says my name it sounds like a swearword, like her mouth is too brittle to sound it out right “instructions on how to build the perfect barricade”, start with enough wood to burn yourself to the ground start over. start over. start over. (seventeen crumpled dollars and a neon sign that says WELCOME TO PARADIS, comical in a way that makes a nine year old on a too-small bike start crying) We Need To Talk / cutting your bangs uneven with a pair of scissors you found in an abandoned building / LACHRYMAL: CONNECTED WITH WEEPING OR TEARS “instructions on how to change the way your name sounds” i bleed empty promises,call people in the middle of the night just to say that I’m Fine (i dont even remember the last time i ****** awake coughing up consonants, trying to rebuild myself, i swear!) she says my name right and it’s a tuesday. there are guns on a basement wall twenty miles away , and it’s raining outside , and she tells me she likes the way it sounds (she swallows it whole)
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
an instruction manual forgotten in a townhouse that never learned how to burn down
“instructions on how to destroy yourself from the ground up, and vice versa” i say i think i am a better ghost-- and she says, *dont be so cliche this isnt a fairytale, this isnt Wonderland* , but i was born shoving the barrel of a gun down my throat like it was someone else’s tongue and after a while they start to taste the same less like a herald and more like sour lips curling around a sentence over and over “nobody exists anymore welcome to the Forgotten era--” swallowing glass just so my throat wont feel so empty when she kisses me she says shes sorry when she says my name it sounds like a swearword, like her mouth is too brittle to sound it out right “instructions on how to build the perfect barricade”, start with enough wood to burn yourself to the ground start over. start over. start over. (seventeen crumpled dollars and a neon sign that says WELCOME TO PARADIS, comical in a way that makes a nine year old on a too-small bike start crying) We Need To Talk / cutting your bangs uneven with a pair of scissors you found in an abandoned building / LACHRYMAL: CONNECTED WITH WEEPING OR TEARS “instructions on how to change the way your name sounds” i bleed empty promises,call people in the middle of the night just to say that I’m Fine (i dont even remember the last time i ****** awake coughing up consonants, trying to rebuild myself, i swear!) she says my name right and it’s a tuesday. there are guns on a basement wall twenty miles away , and it’s raining outside , and she tells me she likes the way it sounds (she swallows it whole)
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22
I used to know you like that I used to know you better I used to know the details of your smile I used to know the workings of your brain But we grew apart, miles apart And now you're to far from my reach And the distance hurts, it kills so sweetly And I don't realize how far you are until you're gone And I've missed you so badly lately I miss you more than I miss myself I miss you more than the old me who Missed you better before you'd even left I'm sure in some years, we'll have awkward chats And I'm sure in some years I'll not be so bitter And I know you think in some years we'll be friends And have borderline domestic conversation about our kids But I miss you now and I'll miss you after those years I'll miss the easy camaraderie we've had from the start I'll miss our borderline romantic relationship I'll miss people asking if you were mine and vice versa I miss the way you used to pull me flush against you And I miss how I'd wind my arms round your neck I miss how I felt your heartbeat beside mine I miss how safe, how loved, how dependent I felt then I miss how you'd calm me down with your presence I miss how you'd take care of me, though I fought it tooth and nail I miss feeling like I could try to overcome my fears to be with you I miss how oblivious you were to how I felt, no matter what I did I miss your irritating smile that always makes me do the same I miss they way I used to feel when I wrote poetry about you I miss the way you tried to hold me, though I was too scared to let you I miss the way you looked when I mentioned other people purposefully I miss the way we never said those three words; we weren't that far I miss the way you broke me down and I let you, though it hurt I miss the way I rebuilt myself to need you less and ended up needing you more I miss the way you smiled when I couldn't do without you And now we talk around the elephant in the room softly And I hate averting my eyes like this, but I can't stop I hate how we're just friends, even though it could be more I hate how it should be more. It should be more, and you know it I hate how I'm moving on, finding other people to fill the hole you left I hate how I still feel empty, even though it's not been long enough to call it love I hate how much it hurts to see you, though I mask the pain and smile And I hate how I miss you even more than I miss myself
0
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
I Miss You More Than I Miss Myself
I used to know you like that I used to know you better I used to know the details of your smile I used to know the workings of your brain But we grew apart, miles apart And now you're to far from my reach And the distance hurts, it kills so sweetly And I don't realize how far you are until you're gone And I've missed you so badly lately I miss you more than I miss myself I miss you more than the old me who Missed you better before you'd even left I'm sure in some years, we'll have awkward chats And I'm sure in some years I'll not be so bitter And I know you think in some years we'll be friends And have borderline domestic conversation about our kids But I miss you now and I'll miss you after those years I'll miss the easy camaraderie we've had from the start I'll miss our borderline romantic relationship I'll miss people asking if you were mine and vice versa I miss the way you used to pull me flush against you And I miss how I'd wind my arms round your neck I miss how I felt your heartbeat beside mine I miss how safe, how loved, how dependent I felt then I miss how you'd calm me down with your presence I miss how you'd take care of me, though I fought it tooth and nail I miss feeling like I could try to overcome my fears to be with you I miss how oblivious you were to how I felt, no matter what I did I miss your irritating smile that always makes me do the same I miss they way I used to feel when I wrote poetry about you I miss the way you tried to hold me, though I was too scared to let you I miss the way you looked when I mentioned other people purposefully I miss the way we never said those three words; we weren't that far I miss the way you broke me down and I let you, though it hurt I miss the way I rebuilt myself to need you less and ended up needing you more I miss the way you smiled when I couldn't do without you And now we talk around the elephant in the room softly And I hate averting my eyes like this, but I can't stop I hate how we're just friends, even though it could be more I hate how it should be more. It should be more, and you know it I hate how I'm moving on, finding other people to fill the hole you left I hate how I still feel empty, even though it's not been long enough to call it love I hate how much it hurts to see you, though I mask the pain and smile And I hate how I miss you even more than I miss myself
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“I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” (*) Puts me in mind Of a man who embodied our eternal, sometimes fruitless search And why the heart is a lonely hunter. John Singer, you silently sang, Of heartbreak and devotion to someone And the eternal search for those elusive qualities Those missing puzzle pieces we all look for Happiness Acceptance Love Always seem out of our grasp Like a puddle of water On the sunbaked, summertime highway of our lives Traveling Always looking for something Hunting for anything To let us know we’re human We’re loved But still our lonely hearts search on “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” (*) The heart is a lonely hunter. Staring out the window of the bus Thinking about the ones I love And wondering if it is all worth it. I wish I could’ve sat down with you, Mr. Singer, And compared notes through pantomimes Written words of your struggles Maybe I could’ve understood you better than others Deaf and mute, you Couldn't communicate with words, Couldn't hear what other said, Instead you communicated with looks of compassion Serenity, Composure Masking a single-minded devotion to one person And you let others who lean on you Attaching what meaning they may To the nonverbal cues you say to them. When some of it wasn’t what you really intended. Believe me, Mr. Singer. I know all too well the misunderstandings That come up in the name of simple love Or the search for it. “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” You think you have something special But does the other person really understand you? And when others need you, and vice versa, They fail to see behind the wall masking Your true heart What you’re really trying to tell them And even with the powers of speech and hearing Would you still have made yourself understood? Misunderstanding, it’s so easy Words are woefully inadequate Because people will see what they want to anyway They attach their own meanings to the words you say Mister Singer, I can understand why you blew a hole in your chest Sometimes that gaping hole is more preferable To the gaping hole left by a broken, misunderstood heart “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away. And if you think that you are only A shadow in the wind Blowing around but when You let somebody in They might fade away.” (*)
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Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 12:28 PM UTC
THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER
“I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” (*) Puts me in mind Of a man who embodied our eternal, sometimes fruitless search And why the heart is a lonely hunter. John Singer, you silently sang, Of heartbreak and devotion to someone And the eternal search for those elusive qualities Those missing puzzle pieces we all look for Happiness Acceptance Love Always seem out of our grasp Like a puddle of water On the sunbaked, summertime highway of our lives Traveling Always looking for something Hunting for anything To let us know we’re human We’re loved But still our lonely hearts search on “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” (*) The heart is a lonely hunter. Staring out the window of the bus Thinking about the ones I love And wondering if it is all worth it. I wish I could’ve sat down with you, Mr. Singer, And compared notes through pantomimes Written words of your struggles Maybe I could’ve understood you better than others Deaf and mute, you Couldn't communicate with words, Couldn't hear what other said, Instead you communicated with looks of compassion Serenity, Composure Masking a single-minded devotion to one person And you let others who lean on you Attaching what meaning they may To the nonverbal cues you say to them. When some of it wasn’t what you really intended. Believe me, Mr. Singer. I know all too well the misunderstandings That come up in the name of simple love Or the search for it. “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away.” You think you have something special But does the other person really understand you? And when others need you, and vice versa, They fail to see behind the wall masking Your true heart What you’re really trying to tell them And even with the powers of speech and hearing Would you still have made yourself understood? Misunderstanding, it’s so easy Words are woefully inadequate Because people will see what they want to anyway They attach their own meanings to the words you say Mister Singer, I can understand why you blew a hole in your chest Sometimes that gaping hole is more preferable To the gaping hole left by a broken, misunderstood heart “I know why the heart gets lonely Every time you give your love away. And if you think that you are only A shadow in the wind Blowing around but when You let somebody in They might fade away.” (*)
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When within my cells there rages war, For a second breath I’d stare at the stars; The old world thickened under my feet, Yet across my sorrows the ends would meet; So to renew these aspirations of ours, Perhaps on a missile on its way to Mars.   ("We are past the third wave,    past the coastline,    past the coral reef.") No I haven’t always been there for you, In these gardens we’ve walked around and through; From green to red, vice-versa and so forth, We’ve gone past Saturn many times before; Now I’m on my way to a distant shore, Paddling the bloodstream of my heart.   ("We reach through the gate,    the threshold of no-return,    far beyond Saturn.") Amidst curiosity and its pulsations, Of skies infinite, a stubborn astronaut; It’s time to decline and lose it all Or time to rise up and answer the call; Fractions of a split-second, a trigger; Wings spread to the dark yonder.   ("The moon now floats behind us,    It cicatrizes our scars as we sail    Far into the night.") The journey into the unknown Always finds a way to take you home.
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Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 1:03 AM UTC
La Traversée (2018)
Just another broken heart To heal mine (and vice versa)
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
broken