I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Unfinished
I am no truly fleshed out thought heart still changing in the chill air growing like hair and grass only to be trimmed on certain occasions- pruned like bonsai trees and topiaries, much fonder of the former I like the way they twist and turn as the world does, churn as my stomach when I am away from physical reassurance, head meets chest is the most lovely of ways, loveliest of days when I can see the shooting stars at night pretending that their briefest light will ignite a spark between two human beings and the only thing I am sure of is this- the only way to make this better is-
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