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Plus sign bed
excited surprise to your side
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I want to be the static in your sheets
The plesant sting as you begin to rest
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I like how you watched me fly
And laughed at me fall onto the back ally pavement.
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I looked at you and what was understandable
To one of such precious age,
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What are you sailing on,
he had said.
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dig yourself deep
because you want to be free
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I want to doubt that you would be the one to hold me
When my cereal box ran out, and I found colorful characters
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The rooms that were lived in
are mirrors and stories past
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She pushed the toy sail boat
on the edge of smile
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The autumn spiders are now wrapped in dew and silken graves
Early warmth will bite into summer peaches soon
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I want to tread on home
Slump my feet through tall grass
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Lets write a story on the back of our hands
Anything is possible if you heed your own demands
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You do not keep her in a certain place
Nor promise to keep ahold just to let go
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Turn the handle to step through the frame
Look in the mirror at the dewy sleep shaken skin
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You suppressed rainbow tones
by placing brown bags on the stained glass chest
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Dug under dry cuticles and my wet tongue pressed
to stop the flow
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I am hiding inside my hate of self suppression
Not gracing the streets with a nice step.
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You were gold filigreed words
until a hand turned the cover
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A failed alchemist
even after one more try
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No news today, except that I am happy,
Someone finally disagreed
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Wonder why they don't want no more
but you break each-other into allegoric pieces
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Frail like sugar glass,
ten thousand white doves
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School girl crushing hard candy in the hall
Smacking the sweets against cool concrete
-
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He touched my shoulder from behind-
Whispered in my ear
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We are the bullets shot
Out crying through the cool night
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And in the dark I found myself falling
Many pieces blown this way and that, a building going down
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The deep I am not allowed to see
Come on in the dark; show me detail
by SmudgedInk
18 lines, 1 comment,
on Nov 29 5:46 AM 2007
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The moon peering in above the fence,
through yellow lined window
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The discontent in my nervous twisting fingers,
eying them with sly remarks inside my head
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What ever happened to that one day?
That one where we first met and I smiled and said
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I may say what I like,or laugh with a smile
Or tell how much gold to feed me until full
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I never assembled the cut up words on that card
Though I keep it close beside my dusty bed
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The butterflies are knotted
Flapping their delicate wings
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