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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Walking Slow Is The Least You Coulddots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: screamALEX
    ASL Info:    19/M/PA
    Elite Ratio:    3.87 - 40/93/49
    Words: 306
    Class/Type: Poetry/Love
    Total Views: 1273
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 4673



    Description:
       


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

    dotsWalking Slow Is The Least You Coulddots
    -------------------------------------------


    Walking Slow Is The Least You Could Do

    So walk a little slower,
    cause I can see the light,
    I can see that we’re getting closer,
    closer to the end of the night.
    Gonna have to let you go again,
    gotta let go of your hand,
    and watch…
    as you go back to him,
    back into those arms,
    back into those hands,
    as I watch in the dark,
    silently,
    unable to stand.

                   You make your way up,
                   he brushes the hair from your face,
                   you shoot him a smile,
                   he kisses you...
                   and you kiss him back.
                   A tear runs down my cheek,
                   weightless,
                   exploding somewhere below with a splatter,
                   it’s too loud.
                   You look into the shadows as if you heard it
                   I'm sorry... it won’t happen again.
                   I sit here watching lights turn on and off,
                   waiting for the occasional glimpse of you,
                   until the house is black.
                   And I make my way back to my car,
                   only to come back tomorrow.


    You’ve said that you loved me,
    more times than I can count.
    So why every night,
    do we come back to this house?
    Why is it always me,
    standing here by myself?
    Looking for reasons to stop,
    if for only a second,
    cause the longest paths,
    still feel like the shortest,
    and every minute spent with you,
    inevitably is a minute lost.

                   You’re in my arms again,
                   finally…
                   bathed in the glow of another bad movie,
                   I’m lost in you,
                   in your smell
                   in your warmth
                   in your breathing…
                   You take my hand to look at my watch,
                   you say you have to go,
                   I think how could I forget to take it off again,
                   and in this instant,
                   I wouldn’t dream of stopping time,
                   I’d destroy it.






    Submitted on 2007-09-30 21:58:03     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      this is the most perfect and beautiful thing i have read in weeks
    it is wonderfully artistic and also realistic
    the thoughts the flow of each emotion through your mind and hand is so careful and easily put before us and we can feel it, breathe it, live it.
    i see her grasping his watch, i see the look shared between them before she turns to leave
    i feel the desperation and anger he feels
    i can hear the splash of his tears on the steering wheel
    this was quite masterfully done

    great job
    i like this a lot
    xoxo
    | Posted on 2007-10-02 00:00:00 | by blu_kittin | [ Reply to This ]
      You’re in my arms again,
    finally…
    bathed in the glow of another bad movie,
    I’m lost in you,
    in your smell
    in your warmth
    in your breathing…
    You take my hand to look at my watch,
    you say you have to go,
    I think how could I forget to take it off again,
    and in this instant,
    I wouldn’t dream of stopping time,
    I’d destroy it.



    It isn't time that needs to cease, it's the obsession that drags one soul back to the unfaithfully waiting arms of another, knowing that there'll never be more to this relationship than the tiny chunk of kindness stolen every time the lady returns. Isn't it odd that some lovers take a piece of perfection from everyone they've met to craft the ideal person for them but refuse to close the wound? Walking away from an indifferent 'muse' may be the only option left...other than a lobotomy.

    Nicely done
    Bill
    | Posted on 2007-10-01 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
      It can feel horrible to have to compete for someone's love and affection. I think I've had to compete at least once before.

    When I read this, I thought of two parents who were divorced, and they have a child who lives with one and visits the other. In the poem, you are the visiting parent, there to see your child, to be with him/her, but time is so short. You wish you could destroy it so that you wouldn't be separated from your child.

    Well, that's what I saw when I read this. I like how you conclude the poem:
    "I wouldn’t dream of stopping time,
    I’d destroy it."
    With a feeling of anger and frustration, you bring the poem to a close with a coarse finality.

    DIE TIME, DIE!
    | Posted on 2007-10-01 00:00:00 | by manwithnoname | [ Reply to This ]


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    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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