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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:



    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:49:34

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:




    There are times my heart moves beyond its simple beating.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:42:30

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:




    There are times my heart moves beyond its simple beating

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:42:15

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks. the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel. a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache - some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:10:59

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak / high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks. the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel. a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache - some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:09:45

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak / high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks. the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel, a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache - some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:08:21

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks. the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel, a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache - some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:07:22

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks. the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel, a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache. Some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:07:02

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks, the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel, a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache. Some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:06:20

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood:


         I guess the thing will be to give it voice. to make mention.
         simply. to write it out.
         whether, it's time or how oddly we are matched. are we
         matched?
         like.

                   you laying there. to me it seems like it must be such
                   a high high - whereas to you, i bet,
                   it's such a weak high




         these 20 minutes [we've been moving].



                                                      [are we moving]?



         seem like two hrs.
         these 20 minutes - you've been lying there.
         i am so sober
















         


         You tell me what street to turn onto. and then nod-out.




















         What's up with these street signs anyway?
         Most of them obscured by tree limbs, earlier
         model vehicles, haphazard on blocks, the dark
         night. the cacophony of a hood that's
         foreign to me. I imagine
         hyenas, one of them perched
         up on a cliff, a sentinel, a look out.
         ushers us in - to a spot
         to a crib - to a cache - some fucking place

         

         I pull up hard on the brakes
         you lurch back into consciousness.

    ...Created 2017-10-14 20:05:11

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Day 6 written by TheStillSilence
    Verse: written by Daniel Barlow
    Things They (Don't) Say written by TheStillSilence
    Compartments written by TheStillSilence
    The World written by jjd
    A Worsening Effect written by Daniel Barlow
    Not the Devil, but the Wind written by endlessgame23
    // Seasonal Song written by ShadowParadox
    A Thousand Reflections written by endlessgame23
    A Sense Of Things written by Daniel Barlow
    Beauty Rest written by jackz
    None the Wiser written by endlessgame23
    untitled written by Outlaw
    The Abyss of Love written by poetotoe
    To the Artist written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Keep written by TheStillSilence
    FamiliarDemons ©™ written by kyserin
    Honeymoon written by TheStillSilence
    The Human Harmonic written by Daniel Barlow
    Day 5 written by TheStillSilence
    Relentless. The Visceral Fracture. written by Daniel Barlow
    Untitled written by Daniel Barlow
    Gaia written by endlessgame23
    Delicious Stews written by elephantasia
    In a Corner written by jeniecel
    When Sirens Whisper written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Mystery Read written by kyserin
    Adoration written by TheStillSilence
    Meaningless Meanings written by ForgottenGraves
    Hyle written by endlessgame23

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    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
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