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Never Give UpGive up,
No matter how they say it,
it will always hurt.
But hold your head high.
Because with every ending,
There must also come,
a new beginning.
What good is a day?A good day is:
a lazy Sunday,
a quick Monday,
an exciting Tuesday,
a hopeful Wednesday,
an expecting Thursday,
a fun Friday,
and a promising Saturday.
A good day is different to everybody.
The BEST day can be any day you choose.
That, for me,
would be any day I spend with you.
Obssessed with LoveEvery time I pick up:
I find myself wanting to:
The Right FlowerLove is like a flower,
picked special from a meadow and cared for.
Once picked though,
the flower will begin to wither and wilt.
But you DO have time.
Time to trim it, beautify it, complement it.
How much time and compassion you put into that 'flower' determines how long it will last.
Even if it does die, do not fret!
Press it in the book of you memory; preserve it.
For that flower will be the foundation of all other flowers you continue to pick.
That book of flowers will teach you and remind you how to treat your flowers.
But one day, you will no longer need that book.
When that day comes you'll know,
you'll know you've picked a flower that will last a life time.
Never Does a Day Go By.Never does a day go by,
when you don't cross my mind.
Everything about you running through my head.
No memory goes unnoticed in the daily barrage.
Never does a day go by,
when I don't remember our first conversation.
Quite a funny one that you initiated.
A late night on facebook was the start of something special
but those late nights are long gone, we haven't talked in awhile.
Never does a day go by,
when I don't remember the night I asked you out
our feelings were clear,
we both felt the same thing.
But that didn't stop our awkward exchange.
Never does a day go by,
when I don't remember our first kiss.
your soft and warm lips pressed upon mine.
Later to realize how embarrassing our intimate moment really was.
Never does a day go by,
when I don't think of you.
not even your small quirks are safe from my mind.
Your light blue eyes that I could stare into for hours.
the same eyes that penetrate my heart and soul.
Never does a day go by,
when all of those late nights don't flood my mind.
Inside and OutBeauty.
She has it all
But beauty isn't just skin deep.
A truly beautiful person is
and just as beautiful on the inside.
Ha, she has that too.
And I consider myself lucky just to know her.
Because anybody can be beautiful on the outside.
But only a select few are both;
beautiful inside and out.
she is one of those few.
Why do you haunt me?Why does your memory haunt me so?
Causing me to relive that painful time.
That first moment when we weren't together.
It's like you taunt me at the best possible instances.
Bringing my "all time low" ever lower.
When my friends laugh and are having fun.
I am trying with all my might to hide my violent shutters,
and to steady my quivering lip as I can barely hold back the tears.
Why? Why do you want to cause me such pain?
I don't want to remember.
It's done and over.
Somehow I see you among a sea of faces.
I can pick out your voice in a babble of billions.
Your scent somehow appears and I can't rid my nose of it.
I know you aren't there but why does it seem like you are?
My friends don't realize the pain you put me through.
I'm used to wearing a mask.
But someday soon it's going to fall off.
Your memories will expose me for who I am.
Miserable, depressed, pathetic.
I thought I could leave past memories in the past.
But I was never really good at anything.
Why would I think I could
Falling StarsI step out the door,
and gaze upon the beauty that I stand before.
I see little white stars falling
outlined on the sky, which is now darkening.
Desolate and noiseless it becomes,
the falling star, by gravity, succumbs,
joining the aesthetic sea of white,
gleaming and reflecting the dimming light.
It's truly magical to see such a sight,
Falling stars, a beauty in the night.
I retreat into my dwelling,
an end to my outing.
But the memory will not soon fade,
for the image that was just conveyed,
will stay permanent in my mind,
while a picture in yours is being defined.
But it will not compare to the beauty of the original sight,
the beauty of stars falling in the night.
The WorldI can't believe it.
I don't understand.
How can you think that this awful man,
Is your entire world, let alone your friend?
Please tell me,
He is your world?
Since when does the world turn its back on you?
When does it leave you high and dry in your time of need?
When does it exploit and use you?
Cheat and abuse you?
Since when does the world build you up,
just to knock you down?
When does it make you feel special,
just to pull the rug from beneath your feet?
How can it make you feel so cold on the hottest day?
So alone around all your friends?
What? Oh, you mean to say,
that IS what the world is like?
Cruel? Unjust? Unfair?
Then, I guess you're right.
This awful man...
he is the world to you isn't he?
Noise of Silence!Silence is homeless
No constraints or boundaries
Thoughts the only noise.
Technicolor ClosetsI can get married.
There are wars outside these walls
where children lay on sidewalks
and are thrown to the ground
with insults and slurs,
riddling their bodies
and the monumental step
mankind has to offer me
is my marriage.
than that of the state
preventing me from being in a union with my partner
recognized by both God and law
I wonder if it even matters
that my rights
are being debated
when there are people
still being hurt by the words of
those who run this society
cisgendered, privileged males
who tell me what to do
with my body
regardless of my gender,
regardless of my race,
we are all below the white, upper class, straight man
Do you ever wonder why I sound so bitter?
Do you ever wonder why I get sad?
My school district was a battleground
the bombs always went off and
at the end of the day, the school
only took a neutral stance on my sex
Love you.I love you.
From the tip of your curly hair, messy, down the side of your porcelain pink stained flushed- cheeks, neck, down the valley of your bosoms to the navel of your stomach, from the apex of your thighs to your knees, down to the toes you curl in whenever you feel nervous. I adore every inch of your being, your scent, your voice; everything. The way you smile at me, so full of life staring me down with big black eyes that pierce right through my demeanor, going down to my core claiming my heart as forever yours.
Every small detail, you know? The little things no one but your lover notices. Habits, twitches, fears, likes and dislikes, turns on and turns off. The way you shiver whenever I creep over your shoulder, the way you let out a soft gentle whine as soon as you catch whiff of my cologne, how you link your arms tight around my neck and pull me in tight. How you merely giggle, laugh whenever I feel that Ill hurt you if I hug you too tight. You f
BeautyShe is beautiful;
And so is he.
His hands feel as wonderful against my palm
As hers across my fingertips.
A look upon her face will wring my heart
As quickly as it will upon his.
His arms are as solid, safe, and warming
As hers are when she surrounds me.
The loving words that she inspires with merely a glance,
Flow as quickly at the sight of him.
He is beautiful;
And so is she.
She makes me feel the incredible height of passion,
As strongly as when he moves within me.
His eyes invite me to peer farther into his mind
As persistently as her smile taunts me to know her more.
Her dainty hand strewn carelessly across a pillow,
Is as comforting as his breath within my ear.
A ring from him means as much to me,
As a one-kneed proposal would from her.
She encompasses all whom I have ever loved,
Just as he is every man I have ever cared for.
My love does not see gender;
It sees only the beauty and warmth within,
That burn as brightly inside his heart
As in the depths of her soul.
They are beauti
All I've GotI haven't seen you in a while...
Or felt your touch
Heard your voice
There's just too much...
My heart's been put through this trial...
Too many times
But I push through
You still are mine...
And I try to hide behind a smile...
But I think of you
I get dragged down
What should I do..?
It seems that mile after mile...
I want to stop
But I can't
You're all I've got...
Something BorrowedHear me read it
In the back of my mind I am sure I was remembering the discussion we had had a few days previous, wondering whether or not I should see her that morning. Somewhere in my mind I am sure there was a logical and rational thought but if there was, I didn't hear it.
I stepped into the room and was greeted by a rush of perfume, the heart wrenching scent of roses that seemed to cover every surface of the broad mahoghany table in front of me. I didn't see them, she turned as I came in and her eyes were alight with fire and for one beautiful moment everything was a fairytale, I gazed without censorship at my beautiful princess. We had chosen this room for her to prepare in because of the huge windows and space, and it did her justice, as she turned in her trail of ivory and the sunlight streamed, dappled against her skin and sillk by the dancing trees outside, it was perfect. I could have married her that very instant.
She smiled a
Holding a Hostage - Draft One /I daren't close my eyes
The moment I do
You may dissapear.
I clutch at your body
Pressed between you
and the slate flooring we chose together
You and I.
I stroke your hair and murmur
My tearful confessions
- You've heard them a thousand times before.
There are sirens, love
and they come for me
They come for us.
They seek to part us, my darling
and I cannot let them.
No battering ram or tear gas
Could bruise me more
Nor make me cry more
I kiss your face
and try not to remember
How you looked when I fell in love with you.
You're not so different angel,
Not so different
Don't you fret. We will be fine.
He wants you
He is calling for your body
He longs to pull you to his darkened room
and have his evil way with you.
He longs to pour over your every pore
and delight in my misery.
He shall not.
They are smashing windows, sweetheart
and still I cannot move from here
Cannot bring my arms to loosen
From their stronghold round your
RunningI am a runner.
People tell me that I am no good,
That I need to try harder and run through the pain.
Those people boast of their abilities and skills.
That they can endure the pain
That they can run oh so fast.
But they couldn't be more wrong.
They wouldn't be able to endure an ounce of my pain.
They wouldn't be able to out run the pain that I do.
They say they are the best at what they do.
Others tell me that I could learn a thing from them.
They say that they've mastered the art of running.
But they haven't come close.
They have never run to escape the pain
the heart-brake and sorrow.
They have not run like I have.
But still they boast of their abilities and skills.
They say they live to run.
I run to live.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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