tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15871906154776456202024-03-14T00:09:14.829-07:00If I CouldAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-43853216741183203642013-03-16T15:25:00.001-07:002013-03-16T16:01:34.267-07:00<div style="text-align: right;">
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the grind</div>
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<i>the nothingness</i></div>
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the smallness of every day</div>
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the weight<br />
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sinking in</div>
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<i> of nothing</i></div>
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the wondering</div>
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<i> the waiting</i></div>
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the endless waiting.<br />
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<i>please hold me together. </i></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-42662951147151483812013-03-08T18:42:00.002-08:002013-03-08T20:46:01.936-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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when your chest caves deeper than it should..</div>
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<i> you're barely even breathing. </i></div>
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so you go on aching. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-35006959055486164642013-01-31T10:03:00.000-08:002013-01-31T10:03:38.214-08:00<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Luk2FrL5z3w/UQmmNuMvb6I/AAAAAAAAGRo/4XIqHUilsck/s1600/200780_137097626360735_3630326_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Luk2FrL5z3w/UQmmNuMvb6I/AAAAAAAAGRo/4XIqHUilsck/s1600/200780_137097626360735_3630326_n.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
like a blank slate- waiting to be written upon.<br />
stinking eyes and a dizzy head.<br />
the cutting wind blazing through the naked trees- just stand there.<br />
deep breaths- caving chest- it still hurts at night.<br />
everything is fine in the darkest blue of the starless sky.<br />
everything is fine. <br />
there's a stranger in the mirror.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-84692134355793813492013-01-26T11:54:00.000-08:002013-01-26T11:54:05.233-08:00stupid enough to care<div style="text-align: center;">
i look back at an old me</div>
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i look back at that young me, that old me.</div>
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that silly old, young fool.</div>
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i recognize the mistakes, i've dealt with the regret.</div>
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later rather than sooner, i moved on.</div>
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and now i don't know where to go.</div>
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and i know thats ok.</div>
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cos' i'm here living and loving right.</div>
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i have nothing left to say. </div>
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and everything left to give.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-72825945978685265192012-12-10T13:02:00.000-08:002012-12-10T13:02:07.994-08:005 years ago<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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i felt like such a little girl</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that same little girl from 5 years ago</div>
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you looked so grown up</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so different from 5 years ago </div>
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you remembered my name</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i never forgot yours</div>
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i don't feel any different</div>
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from that little girl</div>
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and now its got me wondering</div>
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do you feel different</div>
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from that little boy?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-59165436963853302492012-11-15T18:39:00.000-08:002012-11-15T18:39:16.816-08:00 <div style="text-align: center;">
the fiddle that cried over the man who died.</div>
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8 handsome young men carrying a casket. </div>
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seeing but not feeling. pushing the wet thoughts away.</div>
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being the outsider once again.</div>
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and not understanding. </div>
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how one life comes into our hearts.</div>
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and one goes out.</div>
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that's all there is to it.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-63770320516406600382012-07-10T14:06:00.000-07:002012-07-12T12:25:49.083-07:00for rob<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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you've changed since last we met</div>
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your eyes used to sparkle</div>
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but now they hold regret</div>
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for all you once were</div>
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for what you could have been</div>
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you think you know for sure</div>
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they say its not to late to get out</div>
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but your so far in</div>
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what now are you all about?</div>
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stop pushing that string</div>
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just let it all out</div>
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and give out a scream</div>
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it won't make it worse you see</div>
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to pull a little closer</div>
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closer to what you should be</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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~someone who knows there's more to you~</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-80249963145733750322012-05-05T21:07:00.000-07:002012-05-05T21:07:46.530-07:00chasing away reality<div style="text-align: center;">
i can't seem to pull away</div>
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i just keep coming right back</div>
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yesterday wasn't as bright as i remember, because i knew it was coming</div>
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i'm not surprised, i had a feeling things would go this way</div>
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i know them to well, i know myself to well</div>
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i knew it wouldn't work, i couldn't make it</div>
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i didn't have that sort of power or control to keep it hidden</div>
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but oh how i wish i did</div>
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how i wish i could live in secret, knowing it was such a beautiful secret</div>
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sometimes i'm far to dramatic about life</div>
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but i always know </div>
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i have instinct, and my instincts were telling me</div>
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not yet</div>
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<br /></div>
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my heart was pounding so fast, my hands were shaking</div>
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i wish you had been there to still them</div>
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my fingers and brain wouldn't connect</div>
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i didn't know what words would come out</div>
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but i wish more had come </div>
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because i had wanted to tell you so many things</div>
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i wanted you to understand </div>
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<br /></div>
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it wasn't right, it wasn't wrong</div>
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there's still hope, there always was, ever since we were twelve</div>
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i wish time would hurry up</div>
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i wish we would grow up faster, since we can't grow up together</div>
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i hate questions, i hate hearing them, i hate asking them</div>
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but one can't live life without them </div>
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<br /></div>
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i better get used to the fact that i'm not in control</div>
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i'm not in control of my life and the things that are thrown my way</div>
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but i'm in control over my heart</div>
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i'm in control over my smile</div>
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sometimes i'm in control of your smile</div>
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sometimes your in control of mine</div>
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those words are powerful, the ones you just spoke</div>
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two words can mean so much more than the effort put into speaking them</div>
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<br /></div>
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i wish my tired eyes would close and the dreams would come and chase away reality</div>
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i can't cry, i can't laugh, i can just stare at the wall and pace it back and forth</div>
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bright eyes stay wide open, wondering what will come next</div>
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but the heart knows the answer</div>
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wait </div>
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reality isn't a lovely place, and i don't want to live there </div>
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because right now your not in my reality</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-60141807996887092112012-03-06T17:40:00.001-08:002012-03-06T17:41:03.283-08:00present, past, and future.<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">that time when when you thought the past was <i>past</i> but in fact its still there, living in its own life.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">you forgot about it for so long. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">and you can't help but wonder.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">what if i were still a part of it? where would i fit in?</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">i couldn't bear being a par of the past, for i love to much what the present is for me now.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">and i just wouldn't fit any way. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">but its still there.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">they are still there living their lives.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">and i'm here, thriving in mine.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">i just know i never want the people who make my future.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;">to <i>ever</i> become part of my past. </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-47126385067761767992012-02-27T14:04:00.000-08:002012-02-27T14:04:23.400-08:00I'll Fly Away<div style="text-align: center;">Voices just keep on coming.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't stop listening.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't stop singing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So many things I can do.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Time never waits for me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I should really sing more.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ideas are flooding in like sleet and I can't sort them all out.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So I carry on with the pecking.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pecking at these keys.</div><div style="text-align: center;">They'll get sorted out one way or another.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Words are like complicated people.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You wanna know them, but it takes time.</div><div style="text-align: center;">At least its that way with me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">More beautiful noises meet my ears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This world is so full.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have yet to taste a bit of it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Its tiring.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to conquer all those questions.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to open their minds to the truth.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I rejoice in the truth.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why do they keep rejoicing in iniquity? </div><div style="text-align: center;">Its sad.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But love hopes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">There's still hope for those clueless numskulls.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those truly ignorant people.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ignorant of the truth, and the true beauty.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The things they think they know. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It would be so much more simple if everyone say things in black in white.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Its a fortunate thing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Frustrating at times, but its the best.</div><div style="text-align: center;">There's so much more than Love.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The common misconception they talk about.</div><div style="text-align: center;">They created.</div><div style="text-align: center;">They are making worse.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Can't they see they aren't helping anyone?</div><div style="text-align: center;">They want to do good.</div><div style="text-align: center;">See these things running through my mind?</div><div style="text-align: center;">There's so much.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I always pictured my thoughts like desk files.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I always pictured God Almighty looking through them helping me sort them out.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Some things just never go away.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I picture things in really odd ways, but we all do.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I used to think fly fishing meant fishing out of an airplane. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I really wish I knew horses.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have a horse.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to know her, ride her and be her friend. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Do I not understand myself if I can't understand her, Buck?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Her she comes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-55274230228493896142012-02-23T15:08:00.001-08:002012-02-23T15:09:16.460-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">Its untouchable</div><div style="text-align: center;">You wish you could cry is away.</div><div style="text-align: center;">but it doesn't work like that</div><div style="text-align: center;">a complex maze of grey strings.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Your stuck</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where are the scissors? </div><div style="text-align: center;">its doesn't want to leave</div><div style="text-align: center;">neither do you.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It must be resolved</div><div style="text-align: center;">it can't leave like this.</div><div style="text-align: center;">your heart has a fast grip</div><div style="text-align: center;">those little hands stick out of the pieces </div><div style="text-align: center;">grabbing for each other.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Holding on</div><div style="text-align: center;">Clammy eyes won't shut</div><div style="text-align: center;">it hurts to let them fly</div><div style="text-align: center;">its really weird, like calling yourself an albatross. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Just strange.</div><div style="text-align: center;">sleep is the cure.</div><div style="text-align: center;">bright eyes remember nothing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-27994747933357929052012-02-10T15:48:00.001-08:002012-02-10T15:48:36.994-08:00sleep on the wet grounddrizzy rain falls constantly, theres no end to this drury Mo weather, it canget one down.<br />
<br />
45 more minutes, thats 2700 seconds, and I hate math.<br />
<br />
But nothing can get me down.<br />
<br />
I spread my wings.<br />
<br />
Have fun?? It was a blast.<br />
<br />
The pressure in here is like a fish.<br />
<br />
I'm going going to be a sleeping pll for halloween.<br />
<br />
My emotions are running low.<br />
<br />
But I'll sail above. <br />
All will be over soon, and I'll leave again, and not be back for a long time. Its all unseen again.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-63579369150773550252012-02-03T19:40:00.000-08:002012-02-03T19:40:26.663-08:00Again..I was there, once again,<br />
that place where I so often want to be, but its never the same when I finally get there.<br />
I never know what to expect, sometimes I walk away from that place<br />
wishing I didn't ever have to go back, sometimes I never want to leave..<br />
<br />
Sitting on the staircase they all came in, I rushed to them, nearly falling down. <br />
they didn't see me. I tried and tried to get their attention, it had been so long,<br />
they had forgotten me. I wrapped my arms around them. It didn't matter.<br />
They didn't know.<br />
<br />
My heart hurt, all those days spent missing them. <br />
<br />
I was forgotten...<br />
<br />
I don't want to go back.<br />
But I didn't have a choice.<br />
Sooner or later, I was bound on a journey, both pleasant and unpleasant..<br />
I had to go back.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587190615477645620.post-80794691376177594872012-01-20T12:58:00.000-08:002012-01-20T13:00:32.532-08:00Sounds of SilenceSomeone asked me if I wanted to go to the beach, I would have to leave this minute, no time for packing.Heck yes.<br />
On the plane we boarded, the seats where much larger, my whole family , some friends too, we searched for empty seats.<br />
I looked out the window and saw an amazing wave of water wash over a van, where was my camera, I needed it. NOW. Why was there a clementine in my seat? <br />
I got off the plane, it was still grounded, the workers were coming in and out of the big hanger. Dressed in blue suits.<br />
I wandered in there, I knew him, the one that looked normal.<br />
Passages, made of cardboard thin walls everywhere, I wasn't supposed to be here but I needed to find him.<br />
This was fun, he would be mad at me, but not for long..he knew me. Who was he?<br />
I could see his face, but I couldn't remember it when I looked away, I couldn't control my eyes, they looked were ever they wanted, I wanted to focus on his face, but couldn't.<br />
My mom volunteered for the experiment , I felt deep regret that she did, as she donned a Mork vest she sat in the chair. Ready. Go.<br />
I stood back, reached for his hand, he had his hands in his hoodie pockets. I found his hand, finally.<br />
Couldn't let go. I wasn't scared anymore, his hand belonged in mine.<br />
Who was he? I didn't know but he belonged with me, no one reproached us, perhaps it was the stressful situation of that child singing in the rock band.<br />
Everyone's attention was on that kid, he couldn't be more than 4 years old. Strange, he had my hair. Long and dark..<br />
In the entrance of the hanger we stood side by side, doing nothing, just holding hands, I didn't feel anything but safe. The sky was so blue.<br />
Why were eyes always blue? I wanted brown eyes. Just a dream I told myself...but I could feel the seize of his hand in mine. This was real. But I couldn't smell anything.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14722900985498316611noreply@blogger.com1