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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Hidingdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: blankscreen
    ASL Info:    22/f/NY
    Elite Ratio:    5.57 - 222/196/163
    Words: 143
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 654
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 942



    Description:
       


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

    dotsHidingdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Maybe I am too used to pretending that within telephone rings
    Are stories unwritten
    Reverberating like the many times I apologized

    Pretending that time differences and long distances are meaningless
    Or that telephone wires don't tangle

    Maybe I am too used to believing
    in every silence
    And depending
    whole-heartedly
    On the faith that I would get a response

    Maybe I taught myself to believe
    That there was always something on the other side
    Safer than what I had been running from
    That your voice wasn't filled with fire

    I am tired of feeling like a running log of mistakes.
    Like I forgot to tie my shoelaces
    Remembering only as a trip over my hurdles

    Why is it that any time the room is filled with emptiness
    I still want to reach out to that space.





    Submitted on 2014-07-29 04:49:06     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      This really flashed me back to a point in my life.

    Richard
    | Posted on 2014-08-27 00:00:00 | by Apoetwcloudenvy | [ Reply to This ]
      Because environment is as important as heritage. If we can reach out to our surroundings and make them a prolific profuseness of profundity our proximity parameter perimeter peripherals can stop being the propinquity habitation harbinger they so often appear. The fact we can personify beings with metaphysical prowess to me of proxy. You'll find your anything right there on top when you open your nothing in it's only natural to want to relate to the everything. A word of caution on the astral projection, is this functional garb? Can we touch each other or even ourselves with this transcendentally existential mystic symbiosis. Long story short in we have an intrinsic need to reach out to the well of our unity. Granted we are basically a corporeally preternatural finiteness we can still ascribe the ethereally sublime in imagination's immaturity to our spiritualism. Forgive me if this is a million miles from what you were truly considering but your write just did that to me!!

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2014-07-29 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


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