The Writing I Wish I Wrote
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Underneath
“People say I make strange choices, but they’re not strange for me. My sickness is that I’m fascinated by human behavior, by what’s underneath the surface, by the worlds inside people.”
Silence
"I love to sit in silence
Beneath the shady trees
And listen to the song of birds
And to the buzz of bees.
I love to sit in silence
And watch the Clouds roll by
Then read a book or sing a song
And hear the wild bird cry.
I love to sit in silence
When the day is almost done
And see behind the distant hill
The paint glow of the sun.
I love to sit in silence
In the evening twilight
And listen to the whippor-will
Singing with all its might
I love to sit in silence
Beneath the Starry sky
And pray to all in earnest
To live in silence all the while.”
Beneath the shady trees
And listen to the song of birds
And to the buzz of bees.
I love to sit in silence
And watch the Clouds roll by
Then read a book or sing a song
And hear the wild bird cry.
I love to sit in silence
When the day is almost done
And see behind the distant hill
The paint glow of the sun.
I love to sit in silence
In the evening twilight
And listen to the whippor-will
Singing with all its might
I love to sit in silence
Beneath the Starry sky
And pray to all in earnest
To live in silence all the while.”
The Beatrice Letters
“I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from skim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog.”~The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket
Friday, July 29, 2011
I'm That Girl
I'm that girl that holds a smile on her face,
even when things are a mess and her faith falls out of place,
I'm that girl who believes in taking chances for what I want,
instead of pretending to be happy as someone I'm not .
I'm that girl who's not afraid to let her emotions show,
and learns to go on as her feelings start to grow,
I'm that girl who would never give up on the love of her life,
because thereare two paths she can make the wrong or the right,
I'm that girl who would travel a million miles away,
just to find the love that shes been waiting for everyday.
I'm that girl who dosen't care about what other people think of my style,
the one that savors every moment even if its only for a little while,
I'm that girl that can never keep a secret,
I'm shy but that dosen't mean I can ever keep it,
I'm that girl who kisses but dosen't believe,
because she's sad if she lets go and then her love would leave.
I'm that girl that people call weird, random, and dramatic,
but theres more to me if you'll listen behind all the noise and static,
I'm that girl that can cry and laugh all at the same time,
the one that's innocent looking but can commit a heartbroken crime,
I'm that girl that trys hard to push herself through,
the one that dosen't care if she'll ever fit in tobe kool.
I'm that girl you can call unperfect,
my hairs always a mess,
I'm under alot of pessure and all the stress,
I'm really not so diffrent as the rest,
if it were up to me I'll say I come in second best.
I'm that girl who loves to laugh,
the one that can joke around till things get out of control,
the one who envy's those blond girls and there perfect lives,
meanwhile I'm stuck on this wild ride.
I'm that girl that loves to dream,
but this reality is not what it seems,
a fairytale ending waiting to come true,
another risk worth taking what does she have to lose?
I'm that girl who can never prove what she can really do,
because she gives up to easily but none really knew,
instead shes judged by others that are strangers to her eyes,
bottled up with any goodbyes and silent cries for help,
but nones there so she has to rely on herself...
I'm that girl,
and that is my world...
I Feel...
I feel that I can almost touch
your skin the one that I missed so much
and I swear that I can still smell
your scent that was left here as a spell
and if you feel it too
why do we have to get through
this endless torture
that keeps us captured
sometimes I try to shape a couple
I see their smiles, I see them huddle
but when they kiss the image crumple
because I know it's just a sample
of what we could be...
your skin the one that I missed so much
and I swear that I can still smell
your scent that was left here as a spell
and if you feel it too
why do we have to get through
this endless torture
that keeps us captured
sometimes I try to shape a couple
I see their smiles, I see them huddle
but when they kiss the image crumple
because I know it's just a sample
of what we could be...
The Dream
I dreamed that you had ceased to love me—
not that you had come from other beds
back to mine, or gone from mine to others,
just that something in your heart had stopped.
I willed myself awake to find you still
beside me. It was just a dream, I thought,
yet when I turned to kiss you, in your eyes
I saw that you had ceased to love me.
I willed myself awake a second time
to find myself alone, as I have been
these many months, but did not know if it
was terror or relief I felt, and whether
dreams unfold the past or make the future
plain. I dreamed that you had ceased to love me,
and know when I see nothing in your eyes
I can't dream myself awake a third time.
If I Forget You
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
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