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    poetry


    --Elite Writer
    Alias: ira
    Name: izzy h
    ASL: 21.f.ca
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    Days Away: 2443
    Life Story: Mister Albert-Didi
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    Signup Date: 4660 D
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    -There you go eggman
    Quote:
    If a Fool hides a stone no amount of Wise men will be able to find it.

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    AIM: exulteddadaism
    MSN: exulted-dadaism
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    Featured:
    She is Victim



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    Currently Stalking: thesinoftaima , sandman, Zabriel, forfila

    Journal: Juno.
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Living
      
    Juno.

    I can see the broken glass on the floor I can see the dying rainbow bleed. Black. I can see it all in the eyes of the one who can never be. I see myself falling in love each step of seeping sin, the glass upon the floor. I can see the empty broken cold, I can feel you, I can see you. I donít know what this feeling is, seeing myself as you, seeing your actions as my own. I can see myself wanting you. Me. I can see. Sight for lack of better sensation. Sight. I felt it once in a dream, a dream to mount all dreams. A dream to dominate. Here is raw emotion. Here is the illogical truth. Here is my Juno.
    I would walk each day alone without the truth of your physical presence. For your ocean foam and dark bred eyes, The eyes that burned the cold sand from the caking melody upon my flesh. I desire you as the sun the moon chasing forever in the memory of ancient wars. Even if it was never real. Iíd believe in it. For you. Even if every touch was a fabricated mythos, a pathos of drowning breading seeping secrets. Tales we tell to children. Love stories we burn. Because happiness can never be illogical, irrational, it must be formed and planned. I would have married you the moment you took my hand. I would have given birth to a self unlike my own to flesh and bleed with you. Burning sun and drowning stars are the only things that saw me. I am blind to fault of nature when your eyes form within my own. And the pain, the pain is bathed in pleasure. I would carry my life with you. Because the secret of my love, unconditional, nonsensical, unabashed horror. That drifted in from the bowls of darkness to escape the truth. Love for the light. The moon dances and flirts with the sky, with the stars, with the beauty of rivers and ocean waves, to ignore the peace of loving the sun. Who flirts with the race of time to ignore its passion always burning for the forever distant moon. We are the sun, we are the moon. We are. For when I run you chase, though I chase you as I run. You wait to shine upon me, though at times I am not lit. You see all sides and show them. And I to you move the waves in tune with my passions. I would walk a thousand nights in order to prove, nothing at all. Only that I crave you. Only. The burning ancient tales show nothing in comparison to that burning passion that lays to rest hands gripped within me. And when bodies melt, like the earths core one becomes another and turns to something new. Something so magnificent, words compare shameless. There are no words to describe, only out of fear that they lose the essence of their own. Their meaning lies within your hands, your eyes. They lay forever in the fact that, as the sun, as the moon, as the stars that drift so cold alone and distant we may never be again. We never were. Alone and drunk off fumes of us, off eyes that connect in fashion with the times, all times. All times. We never were. Thought times of moment of times of longing and periods at the end of no conversation. I burn only for you. I the moon the sun the drunken stars and ocean waves burn only for you. I am that breeze, that fireflies light without a path, the Gods dare not provoke. We. Us. Them. Thought never be, no touch no screen, only plastic. Dirty rotten flesh that breathes. Breeds. We are the sun and moon. Burning forever in the chase. Burning forever in. Glorification of a soul remarked bold by the passion of the hands. I would have married you the moment my eyes rested on you. I would have walked a death so beautiful the moment our eyes met. Brace me soul for my knees grow weak.
    That my dear friend is love. Irrational, Illogical. Nonsensical.

    Juno.

    All I see is terrified beauty. Black.


    ...Created 2008-01-22 00:13:17     [ View Past Journals ]

    [ View as Blog ]

    dotsLast 20 Submissionsdots

    Featured: She is Victim

     He isnít asking anymore ( July 19 2010)
    :|| V: 458 | C: 2 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Never dream (July 3 2010)
    :|| V: 669 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Featured workShe is Victim
    :|| V: 464 | C: 2 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Awake at night
    :|| V: 421 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Longing : Class : Poetry :
     Dear mistress wed.
    :|| V: 555 | C: 3 ||:
    ::Longing : Class : Poetry :
     Broken Melody
    :|| V: 750 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Love : Class : Poetry :
     The Devil's wake
    :|| V: 515 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Love : Class : Poetry :
     Under my door
    :|| V: 833 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Death : Class : Poetry :
     A devils broken heart.
    :|| V: 616 | C: 4 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Willowís weeping
    :|| V: 585 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     it never came
    :|| V: 581 | C: 3 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Glowing steam.
    :|| V: 605 | C: 2 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Rest your head
    :|| V: 690 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     hey there.
    :|| V: 489 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Here it is
    :|| V: 721 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     Dear Jane
    :|| V: 753 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Prose :
     Hands, Gates and Witches burning.
    :|| V: 567 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
     So apparently I'm fat
    :|| V: 635 | C: 2 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Random Thoughts :
     The Blinded Buddha
    :|| V: 642 | C: 1 ||:
    ::Religious : Class : Misc :
     The Pen.
    :|| V: 670 | C: 2 ||:
    ::Misc : Class : Poetry :
    List All...





    ||| Messages |||
      
    This is an increidible piece of wrting.I find it highly relatable, and see so many thoughts I've written in poems expressed in your own tongue in a beautiful way. I would take the opportunity to work this diary entry into a piece. It's too good to be left alone, and then I'd love to see what comes out of it.
    I thank you for this piece because it gives me the sense that somebody else went through what I did, and lived?loved to tell the tale.
    | Posted on 2011-04-07 03:24:47 | by queendepricate - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    Thank you for your comment on that poem! I must agree with you on all of it, its not my best work and I wish I could do better but I am sadden to say that I can not because I no longer carry that emotion that I had when I wrote it 2 yrs ago. I once thought I would never get over him but alas I have and I do not wish to travel back down that lane! Please read some more of my work and give your thought once again I appreciate them much!
    <3 Tiffany
    | Posted on 2010-08-09 18:24:54 | by loveofpoetry - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    Thanks for the comment on "Petals".
    It was greatly appreciated :)

    ((The last line is my favorite too!))

    Carrie:)
    | Posted on 2010-08-04 03:03:44 | by Carosuel - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    Thank you for coming by, and for leaving a comment on \"I Like Honey In My Tea\".
    | Posted on 2010-07-28 09:23:33 | by Ron Cole - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    Ohh, Both so interesting..
    I dont envy you for the choice= ]
    Tell me what you pick?
    | Posted on 2009-07-02 08:14:24 | by GrIm:)ReApEr - [ Reply to This ] -
      
    Yeah, Im trying to get my UAI, so i can do cultural anthro... But im tossing up between journalism as well so i dunno, But i LOVE Anthro..Its one of my life passions.

    What got you started in it?
    | Posted on 2009-06-20 05:50:26 | by GrIm:)ReApEr - [ Reply to This ] -



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    January 10 07
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