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Burning HeartWe built a beautiful pyre,
and in my heart,
I'm holding your hand as it burns.
The sparks could become the stars,
jewels in Orion's belt.
I'd lace my fingers through yours
in a final act of faith
while we stare down the smoke
cradling the moon,
and each piece of kindling
that crumbles in on itself
leaves me a little less broken.
The light flickers,
so do the corners of your lips.
We needed this.
HeavyWhen you let me go
by the side of the road,
please remember the string
that you tied to my soul.
I'm the balloon you inflated
just to let go;
the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
Why'd you have to cut this
the thin wire trailing
from my heartbeat to yours?
Remember the science of
the desolate sky,
because the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
SeparateYou are on the opposite side
of this window.
Press your palm against the pane,
The heat of our fingers will
fog the glass,
and in this mist we create,
we will finally meet.
Blink and You'll Miss ItThe wind reminds me of
the empty space to my left,
which I swear you filled
only minutes ago.
But if I rested my hand
where you were sitting,
it would be just as cold as
the realization that you're gone.
AdriftRun headlong into the wind with me.
We are only ships on this endless blue,
without anchor, north star, or compass spinning.
Find me as I lose myself with you.
A Cold RenewalMake me pure,
like today's unmarked snow.
Windows are glowing with warmth,
soft amber lighting that casts itself in
stained glass fragments across these
I want release to color me
in that same way,
relief washing me out and
re-painting me in golden tones
that only letting go could understand.
I unclench my tired hands and
trade bitter sighs for peace.
Yet You're Still RunningYour feet mimicked your heartbeat;
Drumming into the ground, panicked.
They reminded you that Earth was turning too fast.
You'd be thrown into emptiness
if you didn't keep up.
If you cared enough,
you'd see the blisters on my hands,
nail-beds cracked from gripping the dirt
as I tried to slow the world for you.
Strung OutConsider me hanging on the line,
a dress without a body waiting for the sun,
vibrant when she's not heavy, waterlogged.
As a child, I enjoyed making orange smiles,
while wondering why we didn't have
a clothesline stretching from tree to tree
like I'd seen on the television.
I admired the way skirts became birds,
picked up by the wind they adored,
while sheets grabbed the wind like a sail,
and the clouds were always made of cotton,
and the denim sat like lead.
Now every time I put myself out to dry,
the sky gets heavy and breaks on me.
I am halfway towards being ready,
and then the rain rips me down again.
Maybe that's why we bought a machine
to wring the water from our clothes,
because there was no risk of bad weather inside.
SleeplessBack pressed against the wall,
I stare into three o'clock nothings.
Left with watered-down thoughts,
exhausted, mumbled musings,
I have little more to do than
mutter myself down from
whatever fight I'm losing against myself
as the stars grow all the dimmer.
What about sleepless exhaustion
destroys the barrier between
stream of consciousness and the
Shooting Stars Aim For The Heart-Dear Father Time
Don't mind to rewind
To a purer part
Of an end with no start
To a time without rhyme
Being guilty without crime
To a time without rhyme
To a time without chime
With no repetition
To a time without time
With no sublimination
And elimination without justification
To when peace came in rations
When land was the ocean's corruption
And when floods were solutions
When our dreams meant absolution
-Yours truly, The World
On My MindYou've been on my mind for quite some time
And I really can't do anything about it.
I watch you go through life day by day ,
You never knowing that all of what you do I love it.
You smile at me,my life's complete as sad as it sounds,I can't avoid it.
You talk to me my heart it beats,I'm unable to slow it.
I don't know why,but you make me smile
and that's why I love you,
and that's the end of it.
After The RainAfter The Rain
Soaked with holy rain
Of love you were making
To the shell that contains
The real me
Enraptured by your face's reflections
Gleaming in puddles resting
On my country's torso
I can't tell where you end
And I begin
Nor where these tears come from
And where sweet moments go to
When they say farewell
To what you left in me
And what you took away
Out of drawers
Those I didn't know I had at all
bLindThe wind carries meaning. As it picks up, reach your branches into it. Let it's force cause you to sway. Shed your dead leaves until there is nothing left. Keep rising up into the sky, and keep digging those roots deeper. Float on a sea of whatever it is that it may be, flying so free, in your mind completely blind to see the sight of things...
Some people swerve through life wearing thin spots into their souls while trying to suck the souls out of others. Eventually, this will rest on their conscience. The rest of the world will look like an angry mob coming for them. If you gamble with the devil, you will lose every time.
Careless souls suffer. Whether it be a sign of a new day or just a passage of time, what you harness has the ability to pick things up, to possess your soul with light. So is the plight of the being.
Waterfall HopeIts inner and outer beauty are one,
and it wakes up my eyes to see,
for me and others, that so are ours.
Only I'm not yet strong enough to let that truth
completely enter in where it should and bloom from there,
yet it still makes me smile,
and so many things start with a smile.
I imagine it has stored up so many blown kisses;
I imagine the light of our love for it
gives it more light than the sun.
When it's going down
it's like a million diamonds
acting like children,
running frantically everywhere,
with an extra helping of innocence and joy on top.
The lights have turned off,
as they often do,
but then comes that honest spark
giving me a helping hand,
touching so tenderly without trying,
and showing me that hand choking the life out me,
it all is vividly clear,
and I put my hand down,
and start anew.
It's not on magazines;
it doesn't wear make-up,
but it's perfection,
and a gift to almost all the senses.
A waterfall proves there's beauty even when you fall.
FrenemiesEmily: I don't try and hurt you because I can if that were true, this would all be so much easier. No, I don't make you cry because I want you to...But because I don't want to. Everyday there's another standard put up, a new bar set lower in a game of limbo where the bar might as well be two inches from the floor. But the bar is also higher, not one of a game but of expectations! My parents treat me like a dog, telling me what to do is like teaching me a new trick and if I try to run away they hold me back and yell, "Heel!" and as much as I try and break away the leash gets tighter and tighter with each pull. I'm sorry I'm going off, ranting on. I don't know what else to tell you. Maybe one day we can be friends, going behind the scenes and being nice but being ugly to each other's faces. But either way, we'll always just be frenemies
Letters To GodThere's a difference between darkness and nothingness. Darkness is being a temporary resident of rock bottom, a shadowy state of melancholy that's only motivated by the fact that you can only go up from there. Dark can be converted to light, slowly but surely, so that we have a glimmer of hope. Nothingness? It's being totally numb to the reality surrounding you. It can only be reversed if you put your entire soul into making something out of nothing. Trust me, I would know.
I didn't have a bad home life. In fact, my family was one of the strongest I had known at the time. I got reasonably good grades, barely ever faltering on an exam. I even had a few people I called my friends, who I thought would stick with me for the longest while. That was when I, an eleven year old girl whose parents sheltered her as well as they could, was introduced to the online universe of cyber-bullying. Soon, after my peers put up this façade of courage on the Internet, the assumed culprits began to bri
Sleep.Sleep. Sleep, and dream.
Dream the dreams of darkness, and know that the darkness is familiar.
It is the darkness that fills the hole in my soul, a black, endless void where life has no meaning.
It is the darkness of depression, and through circumstances beyond anyone's control, it has been passed on to you, as a burden to carry, to share with those who care the most, because together, all can lift it.
Dream. Dream, and sleep.
Three Days Worth of Full MoonShe's just up there looking pretty as usual while you're unable to avert your gaze. I know how it must feel to be caged by such a sight as her and I tell you, you might not even notice, but tomorrow she'll still be there.
Count your constelations all you like, but she'll always be the only one who could woo you like that. I know how it must be hard being under her spell, I should tell you it feels like drinking tankards and tankards of ale. And just like the hangover that follows any good drink, tomorrow, she'll be there.
And here we are at someone else's loft and you urging me to look at her soft cool face. But something else caught my eye and it's kinda funny how you aren't aware of how rare a sight it is. And I tell you, you might not even notice, that tomorrow she'll still be there, but right now, I'm fixated on you.
AcheIt comes and goes
like an unwelcome houseguest,
leaving me with messes I don't need,
and it never shuts the door
to keep the cold out.
I tried shutting off the lights
and closing the blinds,
twisting the key in the padlock
and boarding the windows,
but as long as light can
seep through the cracks,
this shadow will follow
and dig its fingers into my shoulders.
I bruise easily, it knows,
and it revels in watching
me shift in discomfort
while it grips me.
Like a ghost,
it won't let go.
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