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Literature
'the night is much like a endl
"the night is much like a endless waltz
the three beats of moon light, star light, and the silence
continue on forever"
Literature
quarter past midnight
The nascence of fall whispers
Quietly behind my ears -
The ripple of a full golden moon
Over thick, inky waves.
The last storm of summer left
Gaping darkness in the glass city,
Contorted boughs etched against
A disconcertingly wide sky.
Months of transition.
Anesthesia.
The knowledge that one day
That there will be one
Empty bed in the house
(please have mercy
please).
Drowning out the fear in soundwaves late at night.
Tearing lives apart with my bare hands
(Blood swirling open like petals;
I'm so sorry).
Crippling self hate and doubt.
Running from the ones I should love
(the southern stars offer consolation; outside,
the milky way arc
Literature
I missed it...
I missed it.
All the minutes,
ganged up on me in ambush,
crushing me in an instant.
Slipping by,
In plain sight and in darkness,
they mounted their assault,
with a relentless, compassionless
determination.
And I missed it.
Sure, I saw the hours
pass by like cars in traffic.
I saw the days,
flow through light and dark.
And yes, the months,
that came and went with the seasons.
But I missed the minutes,
the magical moments
that held the keys of true happiness,
the gift of God we often overlook,
until they’re gone.
I missed it,
but not as much
as I miss her.
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Comments7
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very beautiful!