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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Rantdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: blankscreen
    ASL Info:    22/f/NY
    Elite Ratio:    5.57 - 222/196/163
    Words: 922
    Class/Type: Rant/Misc
    Total Views: 586
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4554



    Description:
       


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

    dotsRantdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I am feeling a little poetic but a poem doesnít come to mind. I canít get you off my mind but I want to, I need to, because this isnít the way itís supposed to go, the story doesnít end here, nor does another one begin. But when you leave someone else comes running through and I donít need a game of catch up, I need some ketchup so I can keep eating, keep living, without worrying if I have tomato sauce on my face or cheese in my teeth because I didnít eat the cheese and I chewed some gum to take out the flavor. I hate gum. It makes me sick and bloated and thirsty, so thirsty I die of thirst but before I can reach the water you are there, waving, watching me slowly wrinkle up into a prune, a prune thatís ugliest to you but yet you still look. Not because I am beautiful, because I am something to laugh at. You are beautiful. You are a heart and a soul, you are oceans and rivers and lakes of endless purple that mold into the sunset. Your eyes hold stories untold and fortunes too bold for one man to carry.
    She doesnít eat anything but mcdonalds, no she doesnít eat anything but apples. Apples to clean her teeth because she is afraid of brushing them, she is afraid of toothbrushes because the old man lost all his teeth on a toothbrush. All but one. He lost all but one tooth because that one was strong enough to stand strong for his story. His story in a sandbox where the iguana escaped. We all have them. We are all afraid, of fruit, of toothbrushes, of sitting in the dark talking, talking and hoping a voice talks back. And sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesnít because thatís all it can do. A voice stuck in a room of silence, silence and nothing but you.
    We finished the movie. We finished the story. We finished the game of cards and the conversation never began. Its 3 am and I cant sleep because I keep thinking what would happen if there was someone out there. But there wont be. Because there is no such thing as love, nothing such as like. There is you and there is me. There is no us because I am a me and we donít fit so perfectly. I am an independent. I am my own. I run, I hop, I skip, I leap and I run for safety, from you and your throws. I donít get hurt again. I stay strong because there are no more tears. No more tears to show you that someone actually cared because I didnít, I didnít care, I donít, I wonít. I canít feel.
    You ate it. You ate the cookie I left out for you. You drank the water. And now I feel sick. I feel like puking because I gave you a try. And you left it for nothing. There are no words, no voices anymore, no one saying I am worth something because I know I am not. I could stay up all night not eating, not sleeping. I hate you. Because I cant feel and I donít want to. I donít know what I want. Freedom? Someone? I guess its just a necessary escape and something to stop me from this incessant blabbering, these voices that keep running through my head, do this, do that. I cant talk to you because I donít know you, and I donít want to. I have to know myself before I know you and we are missing the connection. We are missing forever. I am missing your arms. I am missing your arms.
    I want my arms around your waist. I want my arm up to your chest. I push you away, I donít know it but I push you away. I am a snake. I cant get close. I cant touch you, I cant need you. I donít want you. I want me and my life and my time to have a future, to have a life and not have to think so much, not have to think about you and what you say and what you mean and what you feel. You donít matter. No you donít.
    I cant think of food. I cant think of sleep. And my words keep getting jumbled. I donít know who you are or what you are but you arenít here and thatís what matters. So what try? Why begin to try to decide on something that isnít even an option. We drown it in jack, jd, jd and a cigarette for a girl that doesnít smoke. Is that your release? A life of cancer and disease. I know what it looks like, I know depression. I know when I stepped out on that roof and tried so hard to lift my foot over the edge but I couldnít. You caught me and you let me in. I didnít know any better. I didnít know any better? I knew who I was, and I didnít want to be there anymore. I didnít. So now I do? Who does?
    Tomorrow should come sooner. I am waiting for the sunrise so I can go for a run and not think so much because tomorrow is too far. And I need to see some light before it gets too dark. I donít miss you. No I donít. You were never there.




    Submitted on 2009-09-26 01:55:13     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Very nice let out. It's so random and changes directions so suddenly that a few parts made me laugh. But when I finished it, I wanted to cry, but my body has long forgotten how. My soul however, cried for days. When I thought I could finally say something, I came back and reread it. And my soul cried some more. Then it cursed my body. Why is it here when it's needed there? To catch you when you go over the edge. To play games, conversation or no. To be the voice in the dark. To just BE there, whether you need me or not.
    I can think of many lyrics, and several movie quotes; but I cannot seem to find the words you need to hear so much. It isn't that I love you. It isn't that I care. That much you know but won't change the fact that I am never there. I don't know if you're lost, or if there's any direction I can give. I just hope that you will not give up on that for which you live.

    On a side note, I did like the part where you admitted you need to know yourself before trying to know someone else. Some of the deepest conversations I've had are those I've had with myself.

    With Love,
    Phillip
    | Posted on 2009-09-30 00:00:00 | by Swimming Bird | [ Reply to This ]


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