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You passed me by today
As she clung to your arm.
Your eyes met mine for a fraction of a second
But time held still.
Your gaze burned into me like eternity in hell.
So I looked away
Before my mind got caught in disarray .
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The winds by the wings blow
The flowers without calendars bloom
The clouds without destination race
The bee's sting with the knowledge of death
The snow falls with the reminder of love
The sky colors with the turn of the earth
The sea blue's with the warmth of home
The dirt possesses the gemstones sought-after
The moon gleams with the secrets of mankind
In the symphony of existence,
We're never alone
In nature's embrace,
We've always found home
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A notification lit,
He'd finally texted,
The next 30 minutes flew,
Each message screenshot,
Each word so sweet.
Giddish joy,
Like childhood's embrace,
I captured each moment,
A smile away
Little did I know what await
A dagger's cruel sting,
A trick of fate
“I wasted so much time”
"I forced myself to talk to you yesterday,"
His words not mine
A wonderfully bitter display
Ouch.
My heart sank, a bitter feeling began to flow,
These words are only for me to know
Knowing he’d never say this to her
Nausea rises, painfully slow
A sarcastic reply, all I could utter,
In that moment's dance of joy and despair,
I stumbled upon love's fragile affair.
You make me realize why I hate it so
It’s sickening to my soul
I don’t realize why i love you so
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There will come a day when you won't take up all the space in my heart but I hope you know you'll continue to exist in a corner of my mind
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I saw you waiting for me today.
Peace washed over me.
I'd never felt such peace when I looked at you.
It always felt like war to gaze into your eyes.
It was destruction to love you.
But in this moment you were all mine.
I wasn't competing for your attention.
The cacophony in my head wasn't there.
That's when I knew.
It was a dream.
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It's too tight, my watch, it leaves a mark on my skin.
I am out of breath, my bloood flow cut off. Give me a minute to breath. Just one.
Yet still the time passes cruel as ever, tapping at my wrist with every tick.
Shackling my entire being to the contraints of those loud whispers at my wrist.
Anxiety weighs my heart heavier as each second passes by.
My body withers in bed the ticks a reminder that I have somewhere to be and something to do.
I am so tired, so so so tired, but the watch never fails to tick another second.
Tick.Tick.Tick
Out of time
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Now I realize I am the moon, you are not the sun but rather the earth and she....she's the sun.
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You always come just a bit too close and make my heart race.
Your heart isn't mine, so why do you do so?
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We are like the sun and moon. We truly are.
My life thrives in the night while yours in the day.
Our paths cross at sunrise when you drop by my house.
Our paths cross at sunset when we have dinner
Our meeting place is always were the sun and the moon slow down a moment to bathe in the gold.
I can't ever touch you, but I can feel you. I feel your warmth everyday.
Sometimes I miss you by a fraction of a second and miss me by one too.
But there is one appointment I'd never miss. The eclipse.
And I know like always you'll show up early and wait for me.
Most times it feels like your existence is a mockery of my own.
I am only able to reflect your light and I am so bitter so so so bitter but I can't help but love you.
It would be much easier to just hate you and part ways.
But I can't, you loop me back into your orbit every time, with every smile, with every word.
So let's meet during the eclipse as the sun and moon always do.
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I don't care. Three words that someone who cares too much has chanted to themselves, trying to believe.
I hate you. Three words that someone who loves too much has yelled trying to believe.
I love you. Three words that someone filled with resentment has spoken trying to believe.
I'll be fine. Three words that someone who is falling apart tries to believe.
Leave me alone. Three words that someone who’s heart needs attention tries to believe.
Don't touch me. Three words that someone who craves touch tries to believe.
These are words that have been repeated innecessantly over many millenia. Words repeated by people covering their ears, afraid they might hear the beating of their heart which says otherwise.
To be human is to be contradictory and contradictory we will be.
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How cruel is fate everytime I feel you've drawn near, an occurence proceeds, reminding me that you're not mine and never will be.
The clouds aren' t moving today, and I know you're not coming back, for your heart lies with her as mine does with you.
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So I'll just convince myself my stomach churns because I got up too fast, and not because your name grazed my mind for a second
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The thing about writing is that you bleed yourself onto the words.
You bleed your mind
You bleed your heart
You bleed your kind
You bleed, torn apart
You bleed your dreams
You bleed your DNA
You bleed ancient arts
You bleed everything about you
So tell me why, when I write my name, does it drip your blood?
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The thing about writing is that you bleed
yourself onto the ink.
The darkness within you
The light within you
The subconcious that you are unaware of
The desires you carry
The passions you pursue
The words carry your DNA no matter what
you try to write.
So when I write my name tell me why it drips of your blood?
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I watch you through the reflection
of the screen.
I focus on the details of your face,
the imperfections of it, all that you hate.
I finally understand that I would kiss you...
The spots on your skin that you cover,
Your glistening eyes,
Your baby soft nose,
Your stern lips
I realize I would kiss them all.
I'd pepper you with kisses and sprinkle you with
love.
If I told anyone they would laugh at me but
My dear, if I could,
I would give them my eyes
and tell them to look again.
The only flaw there is, is that they don’t possess
my eyes or my heart.
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As long as I cross your mind occasionally I'm satisfied
call me a masochist, but-
i wouldn't be upset
if you didn't write about me,
the way i write about you.
because even if im the antagonist in your poems
i would be happy--
knowing i occupy space in your mind,
even if it's not the same way
you occupy mine.
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when the words i write
aren't expressing the grief
the way i need them to--
i turn to my piano
to express the storm inside of me.
but when i start to play in d minor
the keys unlocking the deadbolts of my heart
causing me to abruptly stop,
my vision blurry from the tears--
i turn back to the pen and the paper...
willing to feel not enough,
than feel all too well.
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