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jugendliche.i.) die Bekennende
Du bist meine Liebe, meine Engel in der Nacht.
Die Sonne scheint so hell fuer uns, du kuesst mich und sagt,
"Kannst du bitte halt mein Hand?"
Ich kuesse dich, weil ich weiss ich kann.
Ich hoffe, du weisst, du bist wirklich schoen.
Alles, ich kann sagen ist "ich brauche dich so gern."
Meine Liebe fuer dich ist sehr gross, ich bitte zu sein.
Immer Ihren Liebling, damit du mein sein.
ii.) die Sehnsucht
Sie ist so viel staerker als ich.
Sie leuchtet den Raum und ich fuehle mich
Als wuerde ich tiefer fallen in der Liebe.
Ich denke, das sind Liebhaber oder Taschendiebe?
Aber sie ist so anders, so perfekt und Art ist.
Es scheint, sie fühlt sich nicht Zwist.
Ich will nur ihre Hand zu Halten,
Aber das ist nicht etwas, was ich ganz einfach verwalten.
Sie hat eine andere, obwohl sie liebt mich mehr
Und ich weiss, ich liebe sie ebensosehr.
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 4.1chapter four
“is astrid your girlfriend?” keillan asked me unexpectedly at our breakfast. i nearly choked on my chocolate milk.
“what the heck, kiddo?” i tried to laugh but it just came out really uncomfortable sounding. “of course she isn’t.”
“well, was she?” his insight never ceased to amaze me. his eyes were large and intent, as if he’d thought about this for a long time.
“what even would make you think that, keillan?” i appeared composed. it was still way too soon for me to answer questions about astrid. “you’ve known me your whole life. that’s the most peculiar thing to ever come out of your mouth.” i was avoiding eye contact. keillan’s got this way of making you feel totally at ease with even the most uncomfortable of topics. i guess it’s a good trait to have.
“okay, you guys are always talking about
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 3.1Chapter Three
The only person that was at home when I arrived back was my sister Brinley, a spoiled fifteen-year-old with a penchant for making my life miserable. She was lying on the sofa Daisy Buchanan-style, sprawled lazily reading a fashion magazine.
“You’re home late,” she grumbled, not even having the decency to lift her eyes from the gossip column. “How was your drunken rave last night?” Her words were dripping with sarcasm, a smirk on her lips. She genuinely repulsed me.
“You didn’t,” I spat gruffly in her direction, wide-eyes full of anger. “You did not see anything.” I was terrified, not that she had seen, but that she had shown our parents.
“Au contraire, my dear sister,” she chuckled nonchalantly. “I especially liked the one of you smashing a beer bottle into Mrs. McCartney’s heirloom china vase.”
“Brin, you wouldn’t dare,
fresh.don't look at me.
every time you do i see her.
you look just like her, but
shorter thinner sweeter
younger. you are so much younger.
you're nowhere near as naive.
innocent is not in your expansive
vocabulary. your voice is both
agonizing and intoxicating.
we used to lie next to each
other, hold hands and harmonize.
you held me when i cried
and laughed at my cheesy jokes.
now you have gone. you don't
even speak to me, no choral context.
but you look at me. and you smile.
and you make me feel so fresh,
don't ever leave my side.
a memoir of a butterfly.her memory is like a dead mockingbird.
something so beautiful, but remnants
scatter in the wind, unable to
comprehend whether it was deserved
perishing or a mistake.
will you remember in twenty
years, or twenty months, twenty
goddamn seconds, or will she
fade like the fluttering feathers
of the bird shot down in anguish?
can you kiss yourself goodnight
because her butterflies will never
again land on your fleshy lips?
laugh to keep from crying, cry
to keep for being numb,
pretending her presence was
that of a ghost inside a dream.
cover your wrists in gauze and
guilt to prevent moral infection,
feign disinterest when she bites
her lips, don't crave to be the
one biting back, because you'll
only be chewing yourself out.
don't look directly at her, she
is a sapphic eclipse, tease
me with your sloping neck,
tease me with your impeccable
jawline, hazel eyes and
crooked nose, a sweet breathiness
achieved by her trembling,
raspy alto, how i want to
press my mouth to hers and utter
the cure for romantic epilepsy is you.lighthearted heartthrobs
leave me tenderhearted for
the moment, callously discarded
when the brokenhearted relapses
occur and my heartache is just
a simple subtraction amongst
the breakage and blood pumping.
can you heal me? can you heal you?
do you know how to divide me
into the good, the bad, and the
parts that get too clingy?
can you tell me what it is
that keeps you clinging?
your body is like a metronome,
and i just want to move
to your tempo, you envelope
me with your beautiful
lyricism and lips like a rose.
hands hold like roping soliloquies
of the what-ifs and what-nows,
they're clenching like we're
on a roller coaster and i just
want to hold on to you, if
i could kiss you would i be
considered lucky or a casualty?
i want to peruse the inky pages
of your loitered soul, picking
up the pieces because something
as beautiful as you doesn't
deserve to be littered.
all i want you to do is stand
near me, not even next to me,
because the glow of your glower
is gorgeous even in your mos
drowned.this ice is getting thinner
and i keep feeling like i'm
about to fall through. i just
wanted you to envelope me in
your harmony, sweet kisses
making the syncopation
between broken glass and
heart pieces, shattered
with lips uttering breathlessly.
i wanted to be warmed by
the sound of your melodies,
you told me of my beauties
and i believed you, remember
that my soul is fragile and
that suicide and silence
start and end the same way.
keep in mind when you told
me how much you cared and
how much i hope you realized
at this point the water is
freezing and i can't swim.
love like remission.everybody says that
i'm a specific type. i
think that's just an
excuse to say there's
really no chance i can
ever be loved. keep saying
that i'm beautiful, keep
saying that i'm good.
do you really think i
believe any of that? i'm
trying to turn a new
page, cleanse the wounds
she caused me, and now
i don't know which way
to turn because neither
path is paved for me and
neither door is open. i
wish i could say it was
easy but i can feel it
coming back, steadily like
a creeping animal ready
to pounce on my freshly-
healed heart and soul.
everyone says i have a type.
i believe that in a
heartbeat because each
heart that beats next to
mine is sweet in the melody.
i don't have my choice of
the picking but i can
pretend to be free of this
illness, relapsing on
romanticism and using stoicism
as a crutch, this wall i
put up can be broken down
by whoever's love is strong
enough. someone, take my hand
and lead me through the disease.
You Told Me That You Loved MeYou told me that you loved me
And breathed life in to my world
You told me that you loved me
And you’ll always be my girl
You told me that you loved me
That I’m such a special man
You told me that you loved me
And we were part of His plan
Now you tell me you don’t love me
But you still let me believe
You tell me you don’t love me
And you never let me grieve
You tell me you don’t love me
That we can only be friends
Then you tell me you still love me
But never speak to me again
I hear it all
What you screech
Every line repeats
Until I fall in my defeat
Can I ever stop
The barrage of words
That crumples me down
Onto the floor?
What gives you the right
To drag my face through dirt?
Why, oh why do I listen to you,
Who brings so much hurt?
Your words bring tears,
Heat rising to my face.
I run out in humiliation,
Sobs coming as I race.
My heart is bleeding
My ears are ringing
My chest is pounding
My sorrow astounding
I can't take it
Enough is enough
The smile is cracked
The mask now gone
I'm finally beaten
Is that what you want?
I'm just a human
I'll never live up
Never reach what yo
Are running out
Like the future
That my heart
My black eyes
Her gorgeous march.
Breaking my hopes
Was our last
She ran away
My life turned grey
Living a plastic life
It’s easy to watch
An entire society
Like bricks in a wall.
Let me stay
Here with you.
I don’t belong
There to them
It was a mistake
Believe that I
My tears spillMy missing you,
my wanting you,
my needing you still,
my tears spill.
it´s all been said before,
you´d just walk in the door.
My love for you,
my dreams of you
oh if it could only be,
then I´d turn back the hands of time
and you´d still be here with me.
By Suzanne Karbach 19th July 2014
Secrets and PromisesI am here because of the past,
Because of a promise that is endeavored to be kept.
I can only hope that this dread won't last.
Since the past is also what's killing me the most.
But no one knows,
What goes on in my head.
The painful woes,
That have not yet gone away.
Secrets that can not be shared,
Buried deep, and very far.
Only if anyone cared,
But God knows no one ever will.
Hiding the truth may never feel right,
But I am only doing it for the best.
I am not going to win this fight,
For what is left of me, I'm broken.
Wedding VowToday, my love, I lay my hand in thine
And vow to spend forever at thy side
The path that lies ahead of thee now mine
My strength to bear thy cares and match thy stride
Today, my love, I wear thy wedding ring
I pledge devotion, heart and soul, to thee
I share what joys and sorrows time will bring
And cherish thee for all eternity
Today, my love, I pledge myself thy wife
And take thee as the husband of my heart
I gift thee all the moments of my life
That nothing in this world tear us apart
A Song for the StarsUnder the night sky, here I stand
To seek for beauty, peace and love
I once have known in human's land
But I now see in stars above.
Beneath the heavens, I look up
To see the wonder of the stars,
Wishing the night would never stop,
That I could always gaze at Mars.
After midnight, I'm still awake,
Thinking of stars and something else -
You whom I love, for goodness' sake,
And my love - none but stars can tell.
The constellations - they remind
Me of your eyes that I hold dear
In my memories, in my mind
All while I look at stars so clear.
In the midst of dawn, I still stand
To feel your presence once again,
Like when you roamed the human's land
When life was great and free of pain.
Early morning, I now look down
To think of you and other stars;
Although I may not see them now,
They're still there, like you always are.
Widows FearsIn a graveyard a widow stands
Remembering her lover who lays below
Under the stars
Weeping like a willow
The sky starts crying
In sync with her tears
This is why she had quit trying
Why she’d fallen into her fears
Keep your head up.The weight of the world is sitting on your shoulders,
crushing you down,
and making you smaller.
The more you struggle,
the heavier it gets.
My advice is:
Keep your head up.
When it pushes,
And when the world gets the message,
you will fly.
And when you fly,
you will finally understand what it means to be alive.
And that is,
to keep your head up,
and look at the challenge without flinching,
and once you rein dominance,
you hand it over to another that is giving up.
No one deserves what you previously felt.
Inspirational Haiku- Just For YouDon't cry, my darling.
Didn't anyone say that
You are beautiful?
Don't shed a tear, sweet.
Their opinions mean nothing.
You are just perfect.
Don't let them win, love.
You are stronger than they are.
Don't quit the race, dear.
You're new and improved, winning
Is just a title.
Don't give up, starshine.
You're only as stellar as
You believe you are.
Don't shy from the light.
Shine as bright as your soul can.
Nothing's stopping you.
The world is for you.
Make of it what you want to,
I'll always be here.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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