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Poetry - 23.01.05 Writing - 10.12.05      Older  � From the Heart  � Clairvoyant Elegy  � For the Ghosts of Our Time      Newer  � The Art of Cooking With Turnips  � Radical Dreamer  � Mystery in Red  � Cerulean Dust  � Emerald     nuTang  � Lauren  � ECHO  � Kevin  � Stephanie  � Syd  � Ciara  � Quint  � Rick  � Grace  � Jamie  � Maryann  � Bianca  � Teresa  � Tiffany  � EM.com  � Newgrounds  � Get your own Banana Guard today!  � Quizilla! (Ask if you want a link to mine.)  � Virtual Turntable  � Maddox  � Kefallaville  � Mr. Quach Welcome to Not Getting Run Over By A Forklift 101. For our first lesson we'll... ack! No. NO! What a terrible way to start the class! But aren't solar-powered vampires a bit impractical? Did you know I have somewhere around one hundred forty entires? The primary function of the United States Coast Guard (besides protecting the borders and patroling national waters) is to travel back in time and battle pirates! If wishes were squids, then beggars would write. With the ink, you see. The ink of SO MANY SQUIDS. "It doesn't get any more serious than a Rhinocerus about to charge your ass." Subscribe to this to blog if you would like to be emailed whenever it is updated. | and beyond Sunday. 5.29.11 5:05 pm palm shading these eyes, trying to block light just to lose sight of all these mistakes and flaws. sometimes I think, when it�s all done, how do we know what we�ve become? these lackluster mirrors, can�t reflect all we want to see. a napkin drawing at my feet, pick it up, gaze, falter, blink. color you and repaint me we�ll both change superficially but our sketches are still the same. what we feel is our flame. maybe our mirrors need heart, feeling, to even start to refract skin to soul, reveal who I am to me. Categories: poetry [t], rambling [t] 2 Comments. Sometimes it feels like I'm wandering aimlessly. Like searching for the right pieces to a jigsaw puzzle - attaching broken fragments. Lost and hoping to stumble upon something I can identify with. I'm not sure what it is, but when I see it I'll know its a core part of who I really am. Raw and stripped of all it's transparencies. And so it goes weeding out the billions until I discover a new piece of the jigsaw that feels real. With no one else to guide you, the mirror you look into is your own. When you're broken, the mirror reflects a lie. It's picture perfect but underneath you feel the shattered lines gnawing at your skin. And the color you paint yourself for everyone to see covers up the shattered pieces of your facade. I'm not sure if we're talking about the same thing, but that's what I think of when I read your poem. » eXiled on 2011-05-29 10:16:19 I actually think our mirrors need less heart. That we need to put less of ourselves in what we see and how we see ourselves in order to see ourselves more clearly. Does that make sense? Thank you for wishing me a happy birthday! I don't know if I've ever visited your site before, but I like your background. =) I'll try to visit whenever I come back to NuTang! » Silver-dot- on 2011-06-04 11:00:28
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