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Chat With God - My StoryChat With God - My Story
I didnt think I was going to make it
To that park bench we all know about.
It was unoccupied, and it didnt matter. For better or worse I craved it, need it,
an injection into my eternal soul. Pinprick
and sigh everything automatically shades A little bit brighter with swimming release
in the veins I share with blood. Its a rush.
Its been awhile since Ive prayed here, I say, Head pulled back in the sorrow Ive felt before.
Were you aware of me back then, says he, from
Behind the back of the park bench. He sits, slow


I Did DreamI Did Dream
I did dream.
The rearview mirror spoke whispering lies and dreams to us.
Child, it sighed sweetly, don't suicide
With angels supporting your weight.
Let sin swallow you whole.
Deer fed in their furrows alone Unaware of who and what we are. Chasers of twilight; Starving songs Without refrain. We lit the world
On fire with our fasting lips.
Darling she-wolf be still
Spared from lightning sonatas.
Care-giver, soothsayer, rain pattern tattooed asters on your skin; I have known the sweet sins swimming in your tears.


Maybe, SleepMaybe, Sleep
I do not wonder where you sleep.
Maybe I pretend in the dark, that your head and my head are not far apart--- But maybe thats just a pretend game. Perhaps, I think, you sleep With that woman we saw down the street, carrying her toddler like a football.
Maybe you sleep next to her head. But I do not wonder this.
I sleep with my head turned to the window, not wondering, eyes wide.
Maybe it is that jogger, whose breasts bounce back and forth; If she let them, they could bounce her eyes out, your eyes out, my eyes out.
Does your head sleep next to her blinding breasts?  

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Wastad pen sy'n bod
Beth bynnag digwydd, gwneud
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I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving.
Acta est fabula, plaudite!
Beyond that, I absolutely think you have an amazing style. I don't know if it is my age, but I rather enjoy pieces like that (gritty, honest, and with a knowledge that comes with experience.) AH, and I loved that artist comments because I'm still young enough to fangirl Vonnegut references
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And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes.
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I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving.
Acta est fabula, plaudite!
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blaaaaaaahhh.....
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The humans were unEnlightened 'til 2005. Now the year is 2011, & the paranormals annexed New Mexico from the U.S. How?!
Midnight is rising.
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And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes.
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And thanks for the watch!
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And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes.
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