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Jordan Newman Jordan Newman
Recommendations: 15

i'm singing my songs again but please don't think ill of it because it's the reason i exist.


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i see angels above me, i see demons below me, fighting over heaven.
i loved her more when i was sober.
i don't want a second chance.
love starts with that of a flickerin' cigarette
i swear i could feel your love before i knew your name.

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soul mates

I hear that she's now happy with another
man and that's fine, honestly I was more
than ecstatic the first time I did hear
of this; but honestly I must admit I harbor
resentment knowing she's happy without me.


In my infancy I got obsessed with this idea
that I'd be a new age knight and I'd gently
wipe away tears from my maiden's sad set eye;
and from there out, I'd remain her own hero.


I truly believed I alone could ease the tragedy
she feels with every breath but oh damn the day
when life's cruel irony led me to that discovery
that it was I who was responsible for her misery.


Now a days I drift through time barely aware
of anything other than the pain that I do feel
when I recall how the only joy I was capable
of giving her was manufactured in some laboratory;
and then I'd give her relief out of a sharp needle.
How terrible that was the only time I'd see her smile.


I suppose then what is said of me is actually true,
there ain't much to me but darkness and this blue
cold that consumes me and all I attempt to care for.
Since that day I noticed life itself is a miracle,
what else could it be? Through the pain and horror,
there's always this nagging notion that the future
will hold days better than I am able to foresee.


I now know it's beyond silly for me to ever settle
down with anybody for a period longer than a hour;
yet still I am obsessed with pretending I'm better.
As if this facade could fool anybody much longer
than a fish can survive and flourish out of water;
yet still I think maybe this is all someone's theory.


Any minute now the clocks will rewind and I'll be
standing there in her hallway, in my hand a flower
so beautiful it makes nature weep with such bitter
envy; but I know what's done will remain as history.


Why do I continue to think mostly only of her?
Every day, at the passing tick of every hour,
I'm overwhelmed with nostalgia of her damn smile.
The joy we shared still fills me with such horror!
Lately I fall victim to nausea as another memory
resurfaces- this time around it's a day in July,
and were running around drunk simply on pure joy.


Except for my snicker and her coy little giggle,
we were as quiet as cat burglars passing through
the dead of night; except our goal was a pool
that remained closed since at least last summer.
The way her voice shrilled as she dived into the
freezing water still manages to find a way to cripple
me, leaves me shaking as the music of her laughter
finds a home once more inside of my ears canal.


Even though those days were amazing and remain the
better parts of my existence, becoming old and bitter
is still hard to avoid; and so i must accept all my
fun is gone and the time to reap is now long over.
My hands they're stiff from forever sewing that hole
in my soul, that spot I seem constantly left to sow.


Even though my reflection shows me all but to clearly
my time on this earth has been everything but cheery,
I have this growing ache in my side that just quietly
whispers inside of me, reminding me that it's honestly
no where near too late; just because fear makes me worry,
doesn't mean sorrow is better to feel for all of eternity.


Now I go through the motions of the day without any hassle
because somewhere out there remains a woman that will settle
beside me, not down; because she'll need not to even bother
trying to read me or play my games due to a small but simple
reason, which is, my souls refuge is all she will ever see.


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Jordan Newman's website: http://novelled.com/book_overview.php?b_id=55

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