I read them,
and then I threw them in the trash,
but make no mistake, I read them.
I swallowed them whole.
I filled my eyes with every word,
I sewed them in patterns
into my flesh of my body,
at night I wake to entertain the ghosts
lounging in my bedroom
with impromptu recitations
of your letters, of your thoughts,
of the shape of you in words
but I could not keep your letters.
I could not let them languish
in a dusty box, fermenting
into poisons in the closet dark.
I could not let them lie in wait,
like coiled paper vipers
ready to strike the hand that strays
too far and stirs the den.
This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published August 1st, 2012.
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REBLOG IF CASILLAS IS STILL THE BEST GOALKEEPER IN THE WORLD
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"What was the happiest moment of your life?"
"When Mr. Carson helps me with my writing."
"What’s the hardest part about writing?"
"The spaces and the dents and you have to start with a capital. But if you do a good job Mr. Carson lets you play with toys."
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"If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?"
“Have a relationship with God.”
“When do you find it most difficult to have a relationship with God?”
“When he’s not on time.”
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"What was the happiest moment of your life?"
“I don’t know.”
“What was the saddest moment of your life?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s your best quality?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s your worst quality?”
“Indecisiveness.”
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I just really love babies
Mein neuer Avatar - ich konnte nicht anders :D
x
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Clint Eastwood rides a Shetland Pony, 1972.
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"I’ve got a whole stack of books in my cart. Most of them are advance copies. I know a place where they get thrown out."
“How many books have you read?”
“Thousands.”
“So why are you homeless?”
“I’ve tried to work a job a bunch of times. But then I get sad, and then I get high, and things fall apart.”
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