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I had a dream once
You were driving, your last love in the front seat.
I sat in the middle.
Your hair looked different.
Suddenly you met across the armrests
and I had to watch as you kissed passionately,
speeding down the interstate,
totally engrossed in her lips.
I woke up:
chest pounding,
face flushed,
heartbroken.
But it wasn't real.

I had a dream once
We were in a room with a congregation
They began to pray for a fallen Knight
who passed away two years ago.
I bowed my head.
Suddenly I felt your hand on mine.
Your head was low,
you didn't look at me,
but you grasped me like a lifeline.
I placed my hand on top of yours,
and you covered that one as well,
more relaxed but still distraught.
We held each other.
We prayed together.
I woke up:
chest pounding,
face flushed,
heart swelling.
But it wasn't real.
Written whilst getting over an unrequited love. Based on two dreams I've had about the same man, who recently got the haircut described in the first stanza. Needless to say, I pray the rest of that dream doesn't come true.
 Apr 2017 J Robert Fallon III
M
We write it and we destroy it
Do with it what we see fit
Tear it up
Burn it, hide it below dead js in a cup
Like our souls
Like the cigarette burn holes
In our shirts and our arms
Our sleeping bags
Awoken to forever-under-our-eyes bags
 Apr 2017 J Robert Fallon III
M
Spins
The office chair aligns itself with the overhead fan
In sync they orbit my body
Holding still as I turn indefinitely
It's nauseating and satisfying
as i close my eyes
a land so bizarre appears before my sight
full of mystics, stillness, and trickery
and this hollow heart of mine
sprout the **** of curiosity
how could this be so real?

a flash before my eyes
the sky lifts me up so high
and stretches the arms of mine
like birds soaring up the sky
i flap them side by side
with my heart in wonderment, I ponder

reflects before my very eyes
an aesthetic resemblance of mine
with great affection gazes at me
with awe our eyes meet and merge
lil flowers sprout out from between the ******* of ours
a chest of exquisite embellishment

this strange land far away
where i set my foot with ease
waters crystallize and dance with elegance
flowers and trees smile and breathe
how could this be so real?
then suddenly...

darkness fell on me
mystic land decayed
waters ran blood and miasmic
flowers and trees  called out death
i trembled in fear I want to flee
but the grass clasp my legs impossible to leave
[The lines of the hands formed a complex map]

Reality strikes
The days pass by
Two lines
Different seasons
Separate stations

[Reality hitting on the rocks]

Curve line erasing the good things of the past
2 drops of water falling on the way to the office
  |        |
  |        |
  |        |  Old soundtrack passes over parallel tracks
Theater full, broken line

Days pass and pass
Birthdays pass, not words
Difficult to pretend to be well
No words happen

Places I’m not, line closed
Places you are not, closed line

Romanticism doesn’t feel the same as maps on our maps
2 parallel drops fall
|                               |
The game hits me against the rocks
You don’t follow me in a straight line

[Reality catches me]

there are no words
there is nothing
thick fog

The same lines
Now they are parallel
Your reality hits

[The lines in my hand no longer form a map]

   - Codelandandmore // 4:00 PM ©
Eat drama food
It's official: age is no longer a restriction.
I have the anguish and the whole world in front of me.
I used to look outside my windows with admiration,
but now that I have to leave the house I flinch.
Free birds fly for survival,
but for me flying is a choice
and now my mind alternates between
willing to leave and willing to stay.
Sometimes I blaspheme against my dreams
and I regret having unlearned to be satisfied with a little
but the truth is that
Napoleon is a demon that lives inside me
and always wants more and
I can't achieve the world if I just
behold it through the windows of my room.
I must leave.
Free birds fly for survival and I envy them
because for them there is no other option.
Because their minds probably don't alternate between
fear of the unknown and a desire to fly away.
Because their minds probably don't alternate between
frustration and ambition.
Because their minds probably don't alternate between
comparing their own way of flying with others and
wanting to make another bird's way of flying their own,
even though it's wrong
because every bird flies the way it needs to fly
and the comparison is unnecessary.
Because their minds probably don't alternate between
the cry of giving up and anything else.
They are birds and only this they can be.
But what I am I need to find out.
How should I know what I'll be,
I who don't know what I am?
Indeed, we are condemned to be free.
It's official: age is no longer a restriction.
I have the anguish and the whole world in front of me.
It's time to leave the house.
It's time to fly away.
It's time to go.
Goodbye childhood,
goodbye adolescence.
english is not my first language so forgive me if there's something wrong or whatever
There was beauty in the way he hurt me.
So I found others love to be ugly.

The sweet, sinful daggers he used to degrade me
I wore like a suit of armor that protected me from the world.

Now I stand in the mirror looking at the suit made of thorns
Tattered and broken
To match the remains of my heart he forgot to take with him.
I close my eyes and open them again
Waiting for this nightmare to end.
To end.
To end.
Start over.

Now I stand in my bedroom.
I am naked.
Revealed.
Hidden only from the world outside these four walls.
I closed my eyes, but did not open them,
Rubbing my hands along the hills and dips in my skin
The mountain ridges of scars
And counted every rib that felt like bars
Sealing me within myself when I just wanted to escape!

There was pain in the way he loved me,
Leaving an unfeasible idea of me loving myself.

Cause every morning I wake up and I say
“You can do it!
You don’t have to conquer Everest in a day,
But you are strong enough to get half way there!
You can do it!
Just live!
Keep breathing even when oxygen becomes so heavy your lungs collapse under the pressure.”

But then I’m standing in the mirror.
Or I’m standing in my bedroom.
Naked and broken.
Tattered and ashamed.
Tears carve their ways down my face and each drop lightly pecking the upward pointing corners of my mouth.

I wonder if he can still feel my world shake.
Because if somewhere in the world a butterfly can do the only thing they know how
And create hurricanes,
Why can't the slight tremble of my lips as I force them into a smile to prove that “I’m okay.” —
Why can’t that cause mountains to shake
And walls to crumble?
Why is it that only I fall apart?

There was destruction in the way he left me.
A series of thoughts transcend into a tough day;
Me without you, due to the day your life drifted away.
Flushed down anxiety pills to forbade myself  from suicidal decay,
Because eternity without you is something I can't stand to say.

My raw heart collapses each day, while pretending I'm okay.
And I’m entrapped, demanding to penetrate through foreplay.
My shocked sense of love remains as your body withers & grays.
When I come to visit, I sit six feet over where you lay.

What family now? What remains I’m unused to.
This new normal is not what I planned to seek reassurance through.
You were the one and only, and you were taken like theft.
Everyday I'm taken adrift thinking of what you there is left.

A battle for faith while walking through this living hell.
For while I endure this pain, I imagine you released from life's spell.
Selfishly I want you back, although you’re finally in peace.
You endured everyday painfully and you've earned your release.

If there is One, tell the apparition to help.
For none that I know can comprehend what depth of pain I've felt.
Felt or feel, the ambiguity blends,
As the difference in meanings escapes from life's natural mends.
I miss you everyday.
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