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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Day After Day I Saw A Silhouettedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: FarawayFeelings
    ASL Info:    16/F/Mia
    Elite Ratio:    0.93 - 159/74/72
    Words: 487
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 754
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3351



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsDay After Day I Saw A Silhouettedots
    -------------------------------------------


    There it was standing upright,
    in a way that bore identity,
    On the edge,
    clean and distant.

    You stood against the light,
    so all that could be seen,
    was a figure.
    No detail,
    and no specificity,
    but I knew who you were.

    And despite how far,
    I pushed you,
    and plead you across the expanse,
    you came to stay,
    there on the horizon,
    there on the edge, that seemed almost,
    of ice.

    Day after day,
    you were a seething constant,
    without motion,
    without relief.

    And one night,
    I grew weary of your standing there,
    and thought you might go,
    but to no avail,
    for there you stood,
    tall and emotionless.

    I looked over every now and again,
    to see and to be sure you still stood,
    and of course, there you were,
    without a single thing different about you.

    Until I decided simply to push you,
    so I stride across the space,
    and come to your figure,
    quietly.
    Then give a gentle,
    almost pointless push,
    and you go,
    completely from the edge,
    I have already turned,
    not even a moment later.

    Then I walk back across that distance,
    across all the space,
    and return to whatever business,
    was at hand.

    But each night,
    as I turn to sleep,
    in that cursed bed of mine,
    there you were standing,
    thick and real,
    not like a dream.

    But heavier was the weight,
    of you on that rim,
    as you still stood,
    while I slept,
    and wasn't looking.

    For no matter how,
    far you were from my consciousness,
    you take what was not awake,
    for yourself,
    oh great conqueror!
    conqueror of sleeping wants!
    go make your throne,
    unconscious king,
    from which to rule my hours of rest,
    and fill them with things too impossible.

    In the cool night,
    you linger there,
    like something too real,
    you're memory is clear,
    yes.
    But your potential ending,
    is what holds greatest value,
    in this trade.
    I wake to them,
    in sadness,
    not merely for the longing,
    but for my failure,
    to ward you away.

    I am doomed to wake,
    like this,
    in a dream,
    the day,
    like a dream,
    and the night overcome,
    by the battle of head and heart.

    It is the softness of it all,
    and the quiet of this,
    that is the crown on your
    unknowing head.

    One day,
    someday far,
    from what I can see,
    you will come down from there,
    and I shudder to think,
    that you might come to me,
    but I assume you will,
    stand and go,
    realizing there's not a place for you,
    here.

    Left in question,
    I will wake up,
    and have a cup of coffee,
    and head to work,
    try ever so much,
    to think nothing of you,
    but seeing ever so slightly,
    the image of you still standing there,
    not gone far at all.




    Submitted on 2007-01-22 10:32:36     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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