What remains, are the coffee stains, on the polished desk; The ash, from the cigarette, that mark time; When all the poems are written, all tears depleted; There are crumpled sheets, unused yet, for your scent, still lingers on them; Footprints, that are forever leaving; And me, drawing circles on the floor. -soulreserve
"The way I love you is relentless. It breaks my concentration when I am busy and drifts my mind away to thoughts of you when I am in the middle of conversations. Like a desperate needy child it pokes and prods tirelessly for my attention. And in the end, it always gets it."
the biggest thing to be grateful for is God. He's the only one who can give us unconditional and eternal love; much more than we can ever understand. He is the only good in this world and is the only one who can save you from eternal pain.
I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget.
i love you like a building that loves the ground so fiercely it sets itself on fire just so it can become closer to the dirt. i love you like ashes love the wind for scattering them. i love you like sparks love skin: they keep themselves small so when they kiss your freckles it will only tickle. but i am convinced all things end. i am too intelligent to believe that forever could ever happen to me. one day you will wake up and instead of meeting my lips like a fusion reaction, your heart will implode and suck the love from your bones. you will become a black hole and no longer want to hold me. you will finally notice the things that should have bothered you from the beginning: my busy teeth and too much talking and broken nose and endless questions regarding things that you don't care about and self-absorption and occasional bursts of violence and you will say, i am sick of you putting me in poetry and i will be left holding matches and gasoline and your words will be my kindling. i'm sorry i'm so preoccupied by the idea of you leaving that it makes this dream hard to believe in. ---r.i.d
when i first looked at you i saw something, your eyes; they were sad they were dark and longing, i was lost when i looked into them searching for that beautiful soul you had hidden somewhere down inside but now things are different and i see things have changed because now your eyes, they don't look as sad, they aren't dark and longing and no longer am i a lost traveler to your soul, i see something in you something beautiful, something called hope, and my oh my do your eyes shine ever so brightly it's the kind of brightness that you never want to fade away -s.b
i try and tell myself, "you're not alone," yet when i get in bed at night my sadness envelopes me rather than my blankets and my head is propped up by a monster of thoughts rather than my pillow and by the weight in my chest, it feels as if the mattress is laying on top of me rather than the latter and all i know through this confusion is when i sit up and take a look around the only person there is me and the only person who cares is me and gosh, am i alone.
Marlin: [Dory and Marlin are in pitch darkness looking for the mask] Dory, do you see anything? Dory: Ahh! Something's got me! Marlin: That's just me. I'm sorry. Dory: Who's that? Marlin: [exasperated] Who's that? Who else would it be? It's me! Dory: Are... are you my conscience? Marlin: [sighs] Yes, I'm your conscience. We haven't spoken for a while. How are you? Dory: Eh, can't complain. Marlin: Good. Now, Dory, do you see anything? Dory: [angler fish's light approaches] Yes, I see... a light. Hey, conscience, am I dead? Marlin: No, I see it too.
Dory: No. No, you can't... STOP. Please don't go away. Please? No one's ever stuck with me for so long before. And if you leave... if you leave... I just, I remember things better with you. I do, look. P. Sherman, forty-two... forty-two... I remember it, I do. It's there, I know it is, because when I look at you, I can feel it. And-and I look at you, and I... and I'm home. Please... I don't want that to go away. I don't want to forget.
“May I see you again?" he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice. I smiled. "Sure." "Tomorrow?" he asked. "Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager. "Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said. "You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. "How about I call you when I finish this?" "But you don't even have my phone number," he said. "I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book." He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each other.”
kiwi* posted a quote
September 30, 2013 5:37pm EDT
"Where is God when you're about to jump?" the best way I can explain it... it's almost like an automatic door.. but only with one sensor on one side. He's there. You're there. You're on the side with the sensor, but the only way he can get through is if you let him. How do you expect someone to get through a door that won't open for them? Even if they don't get through the door, it doesn't mean that they aren't there. You just have to let them come in.