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#love poem

And in her memory, 

was a smile.

A dimly lit, soft endearing smile. 

Oh god, and she simply ached to see that smile again. To grasp hold of it in her sight just once more. Holding it tender and sweet.

For now, she has her memory and that will have to do. Yet, even that will fade with time. Over the years the edges will become more blurry. The thought won’t shine as bright. Eventually, that memory of a smile, will become nothing more but a vision in the dark.

And only as she is looking back on her life, the time passing by like reels of film, will she again recall that smile. And then perhaps that laugh. And the touch of soft fingers against her warm skin.

Only then, will she remember her. 

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Paralyzed

A watch ticks nearby

A steady sound in the sand of the hourglass

One Two

One Two

Each minute turns into 15

15 turns to 30

And soon the hours are marching by

1 and 2

3 to 4

24

48

168

744

2160

8760

I am paralyzed

Paralyzed by words left unsaid

Words spoken that I wish weren’t

But I am no master of time

And regrets can do nothing save torture my mind

Still…

I find myself dreaming that I had one more heartbeat to share with you

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Reality

A touch can hurt so much more than

A goodbye

An empty promise.

A touch is undescribably painful

For it reminds us that mortality is not long.

We are flesh and flesh is just borrowed.

A touch makes reality fall.

Hard.

Fast.

Upon the shoulders of the world’s beings.

Young, old, well, ill, loved, unloved…

Reality falls with a touch.

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Slowly as we go,

We grow;

Upwards,

Towards the sky.

Downwards,

Planting roots.

Inwards,

Fearing pain.

Outwards,

Towards each other.


Slowly as we go,

We grow;

Onwards,

Always onwards.

-B.S.H

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when i was a drinker,
i was a cheater,
could help my eye
from wandering like Kung Fu
across the land,
and so I was torn between
a college girl,
and a waitress,
one who could talk about Chopin,
and Bach,
and the other who slapped
me when having sex,
and told me I was a bad bad boy,
but in the end,
they discovered each other,
and hated what the other one stood for,
(“preppy bitch,” “trailer slut,”)
and I ended up alone,
listening to Chopin,
and slapping myself
in the dark,
because
it was easier than choosing
one life over the other,
easier 
than being someone
somebody
could count on.
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one sinful night in manhattan

and all that is left

is rumpled bedsheets

his touch fire on my lips

melancholy lingering on my skin

as Liberty spreads her wings wide;

pray God

won’t steal my soul tonight

— inspired by, Kill Your Darlings (2013)

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La fronda de los violíes

Te conocí en un nido de golondrinasllena de misticismo y me pregunté: ¿regresará alguna vez nuevamente ha mi sepulcro?

Y entre dormido balbucie tu nombre imaginario, la fronda de los violines esparcían tu risa.

Mariposillas surcaban el arcoíris del amor y la esperanza, la suave brisa hacía caer la hojarasca de tus sonrojos…armoniosos querubines cantan alrededor de tu nido.

El azul celeste del crepúsculo humedece el color canela de tus ojos.

Anhelosa sentencia fortifica mi corazón… se refugió en tu guarida de las encunadas golondrinas de mi esperanza.


J Green


image
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everything is going to suck today

and nothings nearly as pretty

but i’m sitting here staring at your face

hoping you find me funny

somewhere inside

the parts you’re longing to hide

show themselves sometimes

at night

but not for a while

i’ve not seen you smile too often lately

but i hear your heart working overtime

over and over

just to cover it up

wrap it away

and swallow the key

i’m just digging for something you might’ve already found

but last night my heart was unzipped

it was out

and i was proud

and we come back to where we both could just be

and you still couldn’t do that for me

i’m town between two selves i want to be

and i squeezed you into both

please don’t leave me before i get you out

please don’t leave before i figure it all out

please don’t leave me at all

i’m content

to brush your hair back with my fingers

and touch you somewhere to get that feeling

but the feeling is rare

you would never kiss me there

comparisons the enemy

but the enemy was him

and now i’m torn between my new one being you

or the zipped up version of my heart

that sits on my shoulder in plain sight

begging to be undone

and never zipped back up right

i’m the kind of girl that looks for things in the wrong places

and the something i get from you is so unusual

and cool

and i’m drooling over you again like you just did

all over your pillow

and wondering how or when i came to feel like i understand you so little

i don’t want to put my heart away

i can’t cause the zippers broke

so even when i do some pepto bismal pink sap

comes pouring through the cracks

and everyday i choke

on words i want to say to you

and words that you say back

and all the things left unsaid

just ringing in my head

ringing is a lonely word

i am a lonely world 

your heart would feel so good next to mine

if you could make your fears unheard

so i guess the point of all this

is just to say

i’ve been staring at the back of your head for 3 hours now

and i’m still fucking enthralled

and i can wait for the hard parts of a hard heart to crumble

break your shell

i just hope you know i’m waiting for you tomorrow and until

i’ve drained all the sap from my broken heart

and i’m all i have left to kill

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the grass under my porch is now a cigarette graveyard

33 degrees no shoes on my feet

missing you everyday isn’t restraint

its a pain that lingers past when you’re awake

grows in your toes

comes out through my nose

lift my face to the sky so your fingers might find it

you’re my alibi

wink your eye

and toss your cigarette into its final resting place

come inside grace

you’re so contentious 

but i’m in my head less

when you’re around to fill the space

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