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    dots Submission Name: Untitled, the Poemdots

    Author: TheAirWeBreathe
    Elite Ratio:    2.64 - 5/16/19
    Words: 94
    Class/Type: Rant/
    Total Views: 1082
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 569

       Honestly I don't know

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    dotsUntitled, the Poemdots

    An acquaintance I shouldn't have made that day
    In an irresponsible work of two words and three ways
    It could have gone directions that wouldn't have been this wrong
    That way I wouldn't have fought for your heart not knowing mine would be torn apart
    In the ashes of our fire that burned bright using my feelings as your fuel
    Now your gone and I'm glad it's over
    Still can't tell who was to blame when we were together
    Now can't you see I've locked it up and thrown away the keys?

    Submitted on 2014-06-02 13:01:43     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I feel pain and guilt from this. I'm not sure what to think really. Loving someone who you shouldn't was always a taboo sort of thing. Years have gone by and that has changed in some ways. I really feel for you about the confusion and hurt. I too feel there could have been more to this. I don't think it is finished, but rather that you needed to get it off your chest. Try to re visit this one and really open up your heart some more. Let it all out. Good work fellow writer :-)
    | Posted on 2014-06-15 00:00:00 | by ccbbyblue | [ Reply to This ]
      this feels written in a blur and incomplete. who broke who's heart? the incompleteness words good if it's a paralell. this place is funny. sometimes we're fiction. it's hard to tell that category. as writers it's like well, if i can't tell, that's a good thing. as poets we question ourselves. well as humans... but i think introspective writers do so more often. we have the luxary of never meeting which makes the uniquity advantageous. when lines get blurred and strings get tangled. we forget how serious this is in the real world. that but......button gets smaller and starts to trip itself out more often. we get lost in our own right to call these games magic, and we curse ourselves with lack of realistic practice. then we become that rushed poem. the part we forget to edit. when we found something outside of theme. what was the meaning? was it true or borrowed. was it a guess? who properly sorted. which side is to blame. that often becomes the question.
    | Posted on 2014-06-05 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]

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