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Written From the Soul
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These words are my heart.

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they say saltwater cures anything;
sweat
tears
or the sea.
if you were here, you'd say
we were never sick, we were just stubborn.
maybe all broken things can be made new again,
put back together with a miracle.
sweat
tears
or the sea.
maybe all lost things come home,
and all you need to do is hope.
call out in semaphore.
stand on the pier 'til they make anchor.
come back to the empty lighthouse.
name a star after them
and make a wish.
kneel on the wet sand
and weep.
maybe all it takes is an ocean song.
maybe nobody has tried hard enough.
sweat
tears
or the sea.
every star is an empty light house
Actually just one part of a longer poem that I can't put up here for reasons, but I wanted to see how this stood alone.

Let me know what you think! Also, help me out with the title. I'm not quite sure it fits.

For theWrittenRevolution
comments.deviantart.com/1/5303…
 - how did you like the flow?
 - how do you feel about the use of repetition?
 - what story did you get from it?
 - general improvements?
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somewhere on the other side
of a town shaped like
a midnight cliche,
you are dying:
    it has been so many months
    since I last mouthed your name.

    I have been dead since August, darling,
but on the sandbars of my memory
we are seventeen forever,
drunk on sloppy kisses
and spoken-word poetry,
throwing around our dreams
like they're fists
and humming the theme song to Rocky,
promising paper cranes for every landed punch
    and writing love letters
    to the bruises of tomorrow.

    we reached our meridian
on a Tuesday,
falling gently into ruin
like statues underwater,
held together with nothing
but a silence heavy as a cannonball -
and even the windstorms we weathered
would leave us only shaken,
not stirred.
not us.
we were far too comfortable
in the bedrock,
bones
pressed upon each other,
praying to turn into diamonds
in the morning;
we were fossils, you and me,
the negatives in the film,
    the ghosts of us beautiful
    for the spaces we leave behind.

    and
three hundred thousand paper cranes later,
we are

still a better love story
than Twilight.
stories only keep you immortal for so long
I couldn't sleep and I wanted to write, so I challenged myself to do an emotional poem where the last lines are "still a better love story than Twilight." Because I'm cool like that.

Here it is. Keep in mind I wrote this half-crazed at 2:30 am. Let the crit come as it will, though! It's always appreciated.
Also, I need a better title (I think).
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you
are not perfect.
you begin
miles beneath that golden line,
all sweat and sinew
and broken hearts,
sheets stained
with the hunger
of a hundred different girls.

you
are not perfect.
handsome
like a fool, a
graceful maelstrom
whipping through the
whippoorwills and
kissing birdsong
down my spine.

you
are not perfect.
I can see
that scar on your hip,
the achilles heel in your
safeword,
animal
caged and calculating
the next best way
to rip into
my fresh meat.

you
are not perfect.
but your skin tastes like
vodka.
eyes blazing
obsidian, tongue
murmuring sweetness
against my name,
you are
a hunter
with far too willing
a prey.

you
are not perfect.
but you carry your charisma
like a thunderstorm,
and you smile like you know
I am aching for the rain,
and you -
well, you can call me baby
whenever you damn well
please.
don't write poems for fuckboys.
I don't like you, you're just a good fuck.
/repeat to self until truth is reached/

--

It's been a while since I wrote something I thought was good enough to post on here. God, I'm rusty. 
Do the two 'well's in the last stanza turn it all redundant, or are they okay?
Crit is much welcomed. Thanks!
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. by neonsquiggle
.
I took a well-deserved holiday from life and went all the way to Bali to try and find myself again. It worked, mostly. The beer was lovely, and so were the people. This is me on the beach, in one of the few instances I'm comfortable showing my face on dA. Hello, world!

*done with an iPhone set to timer. I am much too broke for a good camera, folks. Sorry.
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you made child's play
out of oath-breaking,
and now that I think about it,
I could have sworn I heard you whisper
    mayhaps
on the bridge.
lord of the crossing.
murderer.

Something for the GoT fans out there. And my own peace of mind.
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neonsquiggle
Cheesecake
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
I lack sleep. I like good food and pretty things and making people laugh. I love writing and good music and that sinking feeling when you realise you like like someone.

I write when I can. These words are my heart.
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:icondragonfuture:
dragonfuture Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the Llama badge! :meow:
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BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2015
Thanks for the fave
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:iconrefield:
refield Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the llama.
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MoGhra-Morena47 Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks so much for faving! :iconlabandplz:
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edns Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2015  Student Writer
thank you dearly for the fave on main tumse bahut pyaar karti hoon (purple) :rose:
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