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my drought and storm….


I built myself a solid shelter from the storm…
with rusty nails the builders had once spurred.
I felt no need, in design, to conform.
so i nested it in a tree, where i could feel as a bird…

but in life, it’s usually flood or drought,
and the wisdom of elders is often drowned out,
by the firework’s boom, and the flashing lights,
and those in the trees, lose the power of lime lights…

I told myself, others would build nearby soon…
but the lights afar, were the only ones that grew,
i know that I’m the one who looks lost in a dream,
but I’m just not like them, and I’m sick of trying to be.

I”m tired of calling out, waving others to come in.
for they all promised to join, but then went away again.
and perhaps, alone, and afar, is where Im meant to be,
though, the view is now watching everyone else become happy.

call me stubborn, call me extreme,
but i won’t leave paradise just to find company…
though without someone, what is paradise for?
and so both my storm and drought begin once more…

how much is paradise really worth?
and ought i maybe consider to conform?
for the sun encircles their world and mine,
and the only similarity, is the passing time…

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as confident as my wrinkles.


getting wrinkles is probably one of the
greatest horrors of every young woman.
Or that realization that she no longer is
really that young of a woman.

you look back at photos, and realize
that you didn’t even know you were beautiful then.
nobody told you. they all just teased you
assuming you were so secure you already knew…

nobody told me i was wasting my youth
nobody told me how short it was going to be
everybody told me that i’d have plenty of time
and everybody told me just to take my time…

and i did. and now i have wrinkles.
wrinkles that don’t go away when i stop laughing.
wrinkles that dig deeper into my skin and confidence every day
wrinkles that force me to grow up.

maybe it’s a good thing, you know?
maybe they force us out of that relying on looks phase.
and it’s true im still more beautiful than i’ll ever be again
but gosh. when you find those old pictures… i hate to admit im that shallow, but

…it hurts. i don’t want wrinkles. i don’t want to grow up.

they force me to realize im getting older
and that i need to decide what to do with my life.
and then i look in the mirror again,
and i still haven’t done enough to justify my age.

i fear i shall never be as grown up,
as mature, nor nearly confident as my wrinkles are.
they told me to travel the world while i was young
and then i woke up, and i wasn’t young anymore.

all the great guys were married,
all the hot guys were losing their hair
and all the great and good looking men, i realized
were never perfect to start with, they had a girl who brought it out…

and id missed my chance a million times.

 
 

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in love with the chaos


rolling myself from town to town
keeping a secret eye open for a place to settle down…
with plans to travel the whole world round,
but hopes someone will love me into turning home bound

after enough oceans, mountains, waterfalls, and hills
they all start looking the same from a plane looking below
and to be perfectly honest, it’s no longer the destinations-
im in love with looking down, im in love with being on the go…

im in love with the whirlwind crazy adventures,
the frustrations, the chaos, the curious and strange sights,
Some people love their coffee and newspaper routines,
but i’m in love with buses, trains, boats, and plane flights…

if someone could dig the lust for adventure out of my soul,
then perhaps my life would for once, appear under control,
im a lover of the chaos, who nests within hearts…
so take me, or leave me, or join my journey of fools

 

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until you say goodbye to me


I never meant to leave you behind
I don’t know what I thought I would find
I guess i thought you might follow behind
And always believed we get back together with time

When you moved on, I really did try.
I tried with men, I tried with wine,
I tried with travels, and I tried with time…
But I still can’t get you out of my mind…

I guess you’re happy and have moved on
This time I won’t lie, I wish it were me.
but since this is what you want, all I ask,
and all I beg that you give in parting,

is show up for one last night to dance
please let’s talk, so I can realize we’re too different,
and I’ve already thrown away my pride so grant me this one thing,
please show up, so that you can say good bye to me.

I finally realized you’re the heart I can’t let go
So I need you to be the one to leave me alone.
Because I can’t move on, Until I see,
until I see you say goodbye to me.

 

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it’s like we’re already in tomorrow…


I don’t want to be your would have been perfect,
i don’t want to be that sweet goodbye, maybe someday,
because i don’t want to be your fire of an adventure
and then become your ‘one who got away”

i don’t want to admit the truth to anyone living,
and i wouldn’t even tell you if you strait up asked.
but if you grabbed me, the way you look at me,
and just kissed me like we both know you want to…
well then maybe, this wouldn’t just float into the past…

you know, i live on this world, not much more specific-
have a few countries, and dozens of cities under my belt.
i’d have been fine following a whim, if you’d just gotten up the guts
to have come and honestly told me how you’ve felt…

but tomorrow you’ll fly away… like we both knew you would.
and all they all foretold, all we both expected, will just disappear
into a story that neither of us will ever tell…
so we’ll just hold it in our hearts; and act like we never even cared.

like we never even cared at all.
guess you’ll be my one who got away, after all…

 

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My heart waits


And if I were to try to find your heart,
I wouldn’t even know where to start, oh no…
A heart is not a quest
nor a war to be brought to rest,

And the man for whom I wish…
is more than just a check list…
A dream is more than colors and shapes,
it’s the way it leaves you feeling when you awake…

And I… I
I’m still waiting for mine.
Sure he’s a type, sure he’s kind,
and sure it’s the idea I have in my mind,

But it’s you and your eyes,
and the way you look into mine…
It’s how I can look at you too,
and feel completely unglued…

It’s how I want to be your partner in every game,
It’s how I want to be your side kick in every race,
It’s how I want to be your trophy, I want to be your prize,
I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine oh mine…

And if I were to try to find your heart,
I wouldn’t even know where to start,
But somewhere in the future, embedded in fate,
You better find me… for in the meantime, my heart waits…

 

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the cost of living out dreams


the world is not nearly as large as i once had thought it…
people not so very diverse nor different beneath.
and as i sit here now where i had once only imagined,
i dwell on the cost of living your dreams…

there is always a loss of what could have been
that we trade for whatever we chose to achieve…
and the sickest of lies that hollywood has polluted
is that we can have it all, if we only believe.

Nobody can have it all.

So before you trade your day to day world
with loved ones and adorned with daily routine,
question in your heart what is the cost you are willing
to trade in reality for the chance to live your dreams?

 

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