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Literature Text
I reach out to thee, my love
to embrace the emotion that I cannot speak
To wrap my arms around you and inhale your scent
and to feel the warmth of your life
I hear your voice, calling out in the distance
It touches my soul and heart
Tender pain of deepest love aches within me
at the sound of your voice
Come to me in the sweet darkness
entwined as one, the dance we shall begin
We lose ourselves, time has no meaning
there is no existence beyond us
How can I be complete without my other half
to pump blood throughout with part of me missing
To feel without touch, to sing with no voice
for you are my life, my breath, my heart beat
My other half
Kim J. ( Lamberth ) Schirmer
June 9, 2015
to embrace the emotion that I cannot speak
To wrap my arms around you and inhale your scent
and to feel the warmth of your life
I hear your voice, calling out in the distance
It touches my soul and heart
Tender pain of deepest love aches within me
at the sound of your voice
Come to me in the sweet darkness
entwined as one, the dance we shall begin
We lose ourselves, time has no meaning
there is no existence beyond us
How can I be complete without my other half
to pump blood throughout with part of me missing
To feel without touch, to sing with no voice
for you are my life, my breath, my heart beat
My other half
Kim J. ( Lamberth ) Schirmer
June 9, 2015
Literature
Tied Noose
Tied noose around my neck.
I'm crying, scared as heck.
Why is thinking an ease?
Shouldn't acting be a breeze?
Wanted to jump, but I call you.
Everyone says "right thing to do."
No matter what I can't die.
Brain just won't let me try.
So many thoughts I've had before,
I can't even count anymore.
I'm tired of playing this game.
Recovery should be my aim.
Literature
a little bit like dying
I think I’m losing something every day
Bit by bit everything goes away
The memories I’ve let go
From good times long ago
Are nothing but numbers in a notebook
Where I don’t bother to look.
Everything is gone now and I’m alone again
And the same old empty crying in the rain-
Became more like a screaming
Where nobody’s hearing
More and more like dying
A little bit every day
Since I’ve stopped fighting
And there’s no turning back-no way.
If it would all be on a paper
Written in a chapter
I’d burn it all
I’d grab a pen
And I swear that if I could
I’d start again.
Literature
Spinning
"Épinoy" means "a place where spinning is done."
Or so I guessed. "Épin" ... French for "spinning"?
A village where women and girls
Once sat at their wheels,
Spinning fibers into thread,
Like Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos.
Did they talk and daydream
Of boys and men?
The girls, of the boyfriends
They hoped to find someday?
The women, of husbands
Who had gone off to war?
The Earth too spins, counting off the days
Until the year is 1944.
On a winter's day, in weather too foul for flying
A mid-air collision
Sends my uncle, age 25
And on his first mission
Spinning down to Earth. He crashes, dying
In Épinoy, when his spinning is do
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Beautiful