Run with the elephants, you Know your heart is a compos With each direction – a pin pointed To the angle of the side beating Bang.
With the graceful rise of trunks And the eruption of brass You will see that the mind cannot
Be a guide as the pride is A soul-bound adventure.
Through African planes, golden Shards of grass glowing as if Oceans struck by dusk, and Along side giants – we are Not thought; back-lit against Sunset but
Life can be cold, dreary and dark So dark, you can't even see a tiny little spark It's full of memories, some happy, some sad But come to think of it, life isn't all that bad
Sometimes, we feel nothing but grief and shame These feelings we're feeling, who is to blame? Think brightly! think positively! Tell your mind to be happy!
Those times we've had that cause us to frown My, we should forget those times and smile like a clown! For those are over, finished and done! Enjoy your precious life because there is only one.
He keeps the contents of his life in boxes. The clear Rubbermaid totes with the locking lids that keep the contents from spilling out across the floor when they are least needed. The same containers that keep everything within protected against assailing liquid falling from above. Most of his possessions have long since been discarded, but there is an odd assortment of memories that are kept safe.
A model rocket that his grandfather, long since passed, used to take him to open fields to launch towards the heavens. It never quite reached, but in his mind he was chasing down the parachute of a spaceship returning from a long voyage.
Birthday cards received when it was still exciting to count the years. When the cards still had happy monsters devouring birthday cake and the short handwritten messages read "We are so proud of the person you are becoming".
First place medals from sports competitions, spelling bees, and field days. A single second place medal from a martial arts tournament where brute force could not overcome the wisdom of an elder opponent.
The metal plates off of every baseball trophy earned since playing teeball at age four. When the shelves could no longer support the weight of the trophies they were discarded, and the cheaply made nameplates are the only reminder left that they ever existed.
Too many years of school yearbooks with sloppy signatures following words of wisdom reminding him to stay cool, and that he would see you all again after the summer.
A red, sweat-stained Schlitz hat that was stolen from the older, much more cool, cousin. He stopped asking for its return years ago, and has probably forgotten that it even existed.
Certificates that prove he was once a member of Builder club, Beta club, Phi Theta Kappa, National Honor Society, Student Government, and Junior Ambassadors to the Chamber of Commerce. Reminders of times when joining clubs meant you got to miss class to hang out with your friends.
A single blue ribbon knotted three times as a reminder that it should never be untied. Beyond those simple knots are all of the love letters that were written between him and the first girl that was able to open his eyes so that he could see what love, and loss, truly meant.
An old, barely functioning, paintball gun that he bought with the money from his first real job. The same gun that, through some miracle, gave him and his father their first common interest. He picks it up from time to time and pretends that they are still hiding behind bunkers ready to charge the opposing team.
A tiny red Rock 'Em Sock 'Em robot ring used as an excuse to wrestle around in bed with one of his closest friends on a lazy Sunday afternoon. The blue ring moved far away and has long since stopped answering her phone, knowing that the rematch of the century will never occur.
Diplomas from high school and college that will probably never hang framed on a wall. He was never truly proud of accomplishments so easily attained.
Hiding in the shadows of these boxes is each first kiss that is a stone sitting beneath the shattered mirror friendships that could not hold their weight. He is reminded to find either lighter stones or more sturdy mirrors in the future.
Friends that he has met in countless towns huddle together, trying to stay warm amidst the bitter cold they perceive around them. He calls or texts from time to time, but the embers cannot replace the pyre he used to provide.
Lovers that never expected the love they received in return bask in the solace of the fact that they are rarely seen or disturbed. He smiles when he comes across them, but knows better than to retrieve them from the storage where they are kept.
He still keeps all of the contents of his life in boxes. The same clear Rubbermaid totes with the locking lids, whose transparency allows him to view the contents from afar without disturbing them. He says he uses them so all of the contents don't spill out when he doesn't want them to, but his blurred vision reminds him that he chose the waterproof variety for a reason.
It would only take an hour or two to unpack everything at each new location he moved to, but he knows that the next time he unpacks he will not be doing it alone. It becomes more difficult for him each time he has to condense everyone and everything of import into totes light enough to carry to the next location.
side.
Author: Omnis Atrum
0
Date: 04/04/2020
№ 1207418
Other side
She just stares at her phone with hate,
Not knowing on the other side on the world,
**He tries to call to say He loves her.
side.
Author: Francisco III
0
Date: 04/04/2020
№ 1207192
Urn's Side by Side
How happy is my aching heart, Weeping tears of joy, Together like always, you are again joined, Remembering as one, and to never now be apart Blissful memories, I will keep ahold... All of them I can touch like the beginning, And right from the start. From up above your watchful eyes Looking down to the earth, I can feel Your protection, I felt it always... And I felt it from, since my birth. When I'm done with the master's plan Into his crimson fortress I will also ascend... So then together forever, We will always hold, In our hands, All the stories, you have told.
Why you always falling me Why can't you go away And leave me free Oh i felt in love with you And you stole my heart and my soul I wish i never met you I'm sick of your acting You make me wanna scream
The angel inside my soul wants to get you But the devil wants you to disappear Oh i wish i never met I forgot how to dream Just leave me alone I feel like a clown You made People laughing at me And they think I'm fool Oh girl I'm not your baby toy Or your mobile phone I can forget you so easily I just need a little while And I'll be too much better And all the scares Will be gone But you'll never learn How to love a guy And you'll be so alone
I've been a woman for nineteen and a few months years And i've never looked at waitstaff And asked Can i get that with a side of guilt? But i should have Because it feels like that's what i Am ordering Instead of fries because All the salt in the world Can't cover up the taste of guilt and self loathing i feel for eating sometimes This is for all of the ladies i know who look at cookies Longingly, but tell themselves no Only to eat an entire box of them later And cry And most women will never admit to it But i've been there And cookies don't taste so good when You're tossing them up And this is for the ladies i have watched in the grocery store Eyeballing the candy bars like they are men in dark Allies or Snakes in the grass Because the magazines sitting right beside Them are watching you watching that candy bar watching you watching your weight watching those inches around your waist watching you And telling you that you aren't good enough A moment on the lips forever on The- hold that fucking thought Because my lips and hips have two things in common-- they are big And they want all this Bullshit to stop Every time a woman prattles off how many calories are in a drink I can't help but correct her in my mind because I know for a fact that there are five more calories in that than she told me Because i've been counting calories and playing games with my stomach since Second grade. I may be shit at algebra, but i know intake out-take math like I know the smell of my grandma's cigarettes. Eating meals with other women Is unbearable because i am tiered Of having to eat entire cinnamon buns To myself because My friends wont split them with me And i'm tiered of watching women Talk about eating too much but Wanting to get Back On It Tomorrow like Feeding themselves is a crime And so the next time i go to Cookout for a blueberry shake I'll ask you to leave out the guilt Because it fills my throat up Like sand and my teeth Are brittle and tired from being Bared and ground While i Battle with myself Over the baked goods at A coffee shop Wondering if I feel like hating myself Today
There will be no more sad songs Or nights of no sleep Worrying about you And wondering if you are alive. There will be no more secret deals Or desperate lies To keep up your life style And no more tears that fall. There is no need for crying. The pride I have for you Is larger than words can describe And if I could find the words to express it I would want to scream it To the world. But I wont I'll keep those words for us.
