Dancing Candles and Bathtubs.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is one of the most personal pieces of writing that I have ever composed. It is about the lust one feels, when thinking of that one person they really want, but this person is very out of reach.

Submitted: July 23, 2009

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Submitted: July 23, 2009

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The floor is lined around with candles,

beautiful atomosphere,
your index and pointer are on your lips.
Watching me walk around on heated ground.
Your eyes dance, because you say that we've got a chance.
My vision is beautiful,
my world is a candle of lush.
My thoughts are being spoon fed to me.
I cannot think for myself.
I sit and watch you, dart around the line.
Waiting for you to dance with the candles.
I'm beginning to realize that it might not be the best thing to do.
If we have chance, if we have heart, if the chemicals are exploding,
would you grab and hold onto me?
But I wonder what I have to give your sad demeanor?
All you've done is sit and cry.
The floor is lined with candles,
the windows are open,
I lay, in the empty bathtub.
Your voice, which I haven't heard in awhile, plays through in my head.
I'm pulling out the sweet memories one by one.
Everyone should stop dying.
Everyone should keep living on.
Everyone including you.
I am here, here to give you what you think you've got.
Beauty is the price for pain.
Our canvas could be the definition of beautiful,
but I have to go through a lot of pain to get to it.
You might think that I am wasting my time on feeling deprived,
but I'm not.
I'm running with slippery feet, I didn't bother to dry them.
I'm seeing the world as an ice rink,
and I'm seeing your love as the tool to turn the ice into water.
I'm taking a gamble,
running with sharp objects.
I could miss out on a lot.
But, I love you!
I'm here, not there.
The floor is lit with candles,
you're sitting cross legged with your pointer and index fingers pressed tightly against your lips,
watching me like i'm some sort of lab project,
Trying to see what I could give you, us.
Oh, shut up my dear, you're in for a lot of pain.
fuck it all away.
You don't have to do much to keep me going.
You sit there, staring at me.
I'm running and laughing,
the feeling in my chest tight.
Everyone has to be meloncholy while they wait for someone to realize what they're missing. Oh, but not I.
You keep turning around,
looking at the empty bathtub,
half expecting it to be filled with water.
Loving water.
but it's empty.
I'm not willing to fill it up,
until you see the error of your ways.
"Forever" is a word that is often used in your vocabulary, the envlope is sealed.
Consider opening it, releasing the tension.
I stand in the dole line,
waiting to collect my money.
Glancing at the little sticker that screams "take a number."
I'm thrilled that you've considered me an option.
Holding tight to happiness is what you're about.
It's no guarantee that you would be happier with me.
But, I'm dancing and smiling.
Life would not, could not, should not,
be perfect.
But, it would be a good try.
The longer that I dance around the room,
dodging the flames of the candles that alighn the room,
the longer you sit there, with your efforts to push that puzzle piece inside,
the jumbled mess.
I question my motiefs.
I'm taking a gamble,
I might be prone to missing out.
But, I love you!
I scratch my head, thinking of a way,
to push you, not hurt you.
Your eyes go into little slits,
you're falling asleep now,
I'm not going to wake you up.
I will sit next to you, and stroke your sleeping head.


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