ill be your anchor to clasp onto
during the crashing of the storm
when the stormtides drift
and the angry tempest rages high
drift onto my beaches
anchor yourself on my peaceful shore
rest as the waters lap around your feet
safe within the haven
is there an apology thread, if there is i'd like to apologize, if that makes any sense?
wanted to add: i'm not sure why, i just get the feeling that i should.
edit...someone asked me why...
first off, i shouldn't have come on here to try and find out why...couldn't tell you the why...for a while now i have just felt like someone or one's are upset and in trying to find out why, after being straight up with everyone i could think of and asking, i found myself alone burried in work and confusion, then i ended up causing myself and others i never met confusion and what i was trying to do was simply find out what had happened to my life while i was going uphill an slowly went downhill?
i'm really a pretty good person, when i mess up and realize it i try to learn from it and move on(by doing my best in making amends.) this time in all the chaos, with good intentions i screwed up and was rude at times...i was confused and thought that some people on here might have possibly been going to my school. its strange, i'm doing the best i can now though. i apologize.
Everybody messes up. Not everybody tries to make amends. Nice.
I'm tired of being scared.
what's the use of a splatter egg when there is nothing to splatter against?
"I've been writing from the inside now the outside is lonely,
there's a penalty for wasting life I wish somebody told me,
before all the books were full this could have been changed,
I would have been quiet and never had the nerve to complain,
Instead I'm lead to belive these songs will be imperfect,
If I stick to my instincts and stop being so damn nervous... "
apologies ahead of time if i mess up the lyrics, you talk fast but thats whats stuck in my head, just in case? wished i could remember the rest, private thoughts ughlllwoaaaaaa, sh*t...
not a hovel...
alive inside the shell
and breaking forth
I'm not sad.
I'm just tired.
The more rational you think the world should be, the more irrational it seems.
talking to you again is like
something i can't describe
i can't quite put my finger on it
and i dont know how to feel
day to day
or even hour to hour
(minute to minute?)
aside from a few snide comments
made to make me
feel guilt, somehow
about protecting myself
and my feelings
the depths of which i would never dream of sharing with you
you're your old self
the back & forth
easily flowing conversation
the witty banter
giving as good as you're getting
i've missed it
i've missed you
time heals all wounds?
i'll never know for sure
a bit apprehensive
not sure where this is going
everything happens for a reason
i still don't fully fathom
the reason for this?
we spoke of everything in time
shared our losses, hopes, dreams
laughed, cried, counseled, teased, cajoled, encouraged
little did we know
i'd one day grab the chalk
and put you in the losses column
breaking my heart in the process
taking the step you couldn't
doesn't absolve you
picking at a scab?
scratching an itch?
how very flattering
and not fair to me
neither is the game playing
yes, i know
how to win
but it's not fair to me
why would i want to be your friend
when all my respect for you
went out the window
with your first lie
so while i know
the snide comments
mean you've missed me
i also know you'd sooner visit times square
in a tutu
than admit to me
that i mean something
dreamed of you last night
NOT in *that* way
you were perfect, the ideal
but then the alarm went off
sometimes i hear a song/smell a scent/etc
and it comes rushing back
all of it
the warm feelings i once had
won't die, they just smolder apparently
but why? why now?
it was beyond over
i have no control
do i want you to have that power?
stop appearing in my dreams, please
then i come home to this, which reminds me
why you're on the list
and how you got there in the first place
wow. *this* is what they're all talking about. guess i should feel lucky i get to experience it... the best and worst at the same time, the good of it somehow making the bad bearable, like anaesthetic as the knife goes in. once again i see proven that there is always something you don't know you don't know, that you thought you knew... good growth. They spit on Jesus, too. not that i would place myself anywhere near the magnitude of that soul, but it just goes to show you. art comes from discontent.
What's more important, the minute or the hour?
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