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You wore those
black pants
the ones that clung tight
to every inch of your
long love traps
and wrapped
your flawless form

And had that
belly button ring
(amongst other things)
all the assets
the ones that
made for a swarm
of willing lovers

I was younger
than the others
and eager to please you
...sure, i wanted to
but it was more
than a fancy or  
Sexfling type thing

You made music
sound better
and put hope in the letters
on the pages
of the songs
I wrote for

And I
was hope-less
I confess
as I envisioned the position
i would take
when I gave you a ring
(amongst other things)

How I
would fantasize
about you and me
too blind to see
  it was unwise
to trust undercover ****

You wore
those tight black pants
And I was a blue jean guy
You loved
Sitcoms on Sundays more
And made fun of me for
Fellini on Fridays

but mostly you
wanted to
be with a "real man" who
Would say you were worth fighting for
not a young bar musician
who sought love that
was worth writing for
Daisy Marrow Sep 2013
The first time I saw you it was in math class.
I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was.
After all, I had an hour to ****.
The second time I saw you were in English class.
You sat next to me but not by choice.
But I was happy about it.
It took me about four to five weeks to talk to you,
and I wasn't even the one to speak first.
You introduced yourself and then we worked together on an assignment.
It's been two weeks and I haven't said another word and I probably won't out of random.
My anxiety swallows me whole
and I'm sorry I can't even say hello.
But I have had time to notice you.
And let me just say
I'm in love with your taste in music
I'm in love with the way you hold your books
thinking that if you change the sound of your voice when the diagonal changes,
or if you struggle reading words you've never seen before and sit there for a few seconds trying to piece together what they mean.
I love how you can play the mandolin, you should show me sometime.
As I think about these things I also pick up how you would never even think of me.
I mean really,
you probably want some girl that's outgoing and can strum a guitar solo at midnight with you.
You probably want someone with long hair you can intertwine your fingers in,
or someone you can spend an afternoon together after church with.
I can't move mountains
and I can't even speak without looking like a fool,
but even if nothing will ever happen
It would be just as quite exciting being friends with you.
We could trade books and make each other mixtapes.
It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already writing mediocre poetry about you.
I'm sorry about that by the way.
I'm not asking for a relationship but a friendship with someone like you would feel just the same.
I wrote this in like 20 minutes and I apologize I don't even know
Kurt Carman Sep 21
It’s something I think about often,
Do we fully understand the fragility of this life we possess?

And suddenly a loved one is taken …it inflames you to think.
Every consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.

These lives of ours are fleeting, gone in a minute.
When you suddenly understand this, everything fades into the background.

Pushing 70 now… I choose to soar out of bed joyfully rejoicing each morning,
That life has granted me another day above the dirt.

Life is strong and weak…it’s a paradox.
Keep your mind strong my friends, don’t hide behind your fears.

This life of yours is an amazing gift….live it with a smile!
I often think about my ancestry. In my living room hangs a picture of my Great Grandfather Isaac. And each time I walk past it I tell him how much I love him. I look forward to meeting him one day. But until then I refuse to let my death consume me and I hope you don't either.
Isaac Sep 2
Written 2 September 2018

1 Corinthians 13:1-13
krysbaietto Dec 3
When we **** it’s like I’m only looking for the good as I get robbed blind,
yet I find myself in the dark streets of your neighborhood
under ***** sheets
knowing I need to leave this behind

A momentary fix, then it's back to darkness
pooling in the gutter
a murky afterthought
why I can't be more heartless

I must love the destruction,
a fool for the thrill
but is it worth feeling this hollow?
so empty that there's no blood left to spill

We only love people in moments and in parts
Never as a whole or all the time.
Could be winter, but we burn inside
Could've been great, but we're terrified
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