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anica3699
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anica3699
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attendant
the flight attendant pushed her cart down the aisle as i gazed out the window at the clouds accumulating into a storm. yet again i was being sent off into the unknown and i liked it more than anything
umbrella
polka dots. stripes. floral prints. jet black. figurines. i feel as if you can read the person sheltering themselves from the rain by the print they sport. one glance and you know who they are
silk
silk sheets. this is what i imagine. i think if us in our natural state of being. arms and legs tangled together. our bodies intertwined beneath the silk sheets, soaking each other in
punishment
you punish me for my past, but don't you see i have changed? you tell me you are too good for me because of the wrong i did. you tell me you despise me for the choices i made, but cant you see we are the same person? you hate me because you hate yourself, and that my dear is why we will never last. you punish me for my past and in the end you punish yourself more than anything. because i told you i loved you, but that was never good enough.
punishment
i think of all the punishment i have received in the past few weeks. i wanted it all and i tried to get it, now i have nothing. i call that punishment at its harshest, i lost what i love to keep what i hate. and all i can wonder is, do i deserve it?
discovery
discovery. this word makes me think of all the things i have come to learn in life. about people and who they really are, about the world, and most of all about myself. but its just another thought that will soon be forgotten
answers
i think of answers and i think of all the ones i dont receive. i think of all the times that in a response all i get is silence. i think of all the times i am left with an unanswered question and that brings the mystery to life
driving
im driving down the street, gas pedal smashed against the floor. the windows are down and the wind whips and tangles my hair. we look at each other for a second and hope to god we wont get caught. we are driving down the street, making our getaway
brick
bricks stacked. one on top of the other. small,big, rough, and crumbling. we are the bricks. we build society. one day we will come tumbling down. the big bricks will fall from the top and the small bricks will be crushed beneath. every brick will be equal, scattered on the ground.