Touch me deep...

When I hold you in this night-soaked bed it is courage for the day I seek.
Courage that when the light comes I will turn towards it. It couldn't be
simpler. It couldn't be harder. In this little night-covered world with you,
I hope to find what I long for; a clue a map, a bird flying south, and when
the light comes we will get dressed together and go...
 
Never have I thought I would meet you
Never have I thought I would be happy like this
I think of you and I taste you
I think of you and I smell you
I think of you and I smile

The world does not exist when we are together
The spinning is only in my head
Because you are like a drug to which I am addicted
I want more
I need more

Being with you is
Paradise

:kiss:
 
You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless, like you've lost your fight
But you'll be alright, you'll be alright

Chorus:
'Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what your made of
You might bend 'til you break
'Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe you hands, shake it off
Then you stand, then you stand

Life's like a novel with end ripped out
The edge of a canyon with only one way down
Take what your given before it's gone
And start holdin' on, keep holdin' on

(Repeat chorus)

Every time you get up and get back in the race
One more small piece of you starts to fall into place - yeah

(Repeat chorus)

Yeah then you stand - yeah
Yeah, baby
Woo hoo, Woo hoo, Woo hoo
Then you stand - yeah, yeah

(Rascal Flatts)
 
I want to lay you down
On a bed of roses
While I fall asleep
On a bed of nails

I want to be
Just as close as
The holy
Ghost is

Lay you down
On a bed of roses

(Bon Jovi)
 
You get me
When nobody understands
You come and take the chance, baby
You get me
You look inside my wild mind
Never knowing what you'll find
And still you want me all the time
Yeah, you do
Yeah, you get me

Michelle Branch
 
Something that touches me deep is lit itself.
Apart from the few very few trouble makers, the sense of community and love here is overwhelming. I came here not knowing what it was I was seeking and found a wonderful place far beyond anything I could imagine:)
The AH is starting to feel like home in particular:)
So thank you to everyone for being so welcoming and helpful and just plain lovely:)
The support system here really takes my breath away... :rose:
 
sxcascinn said:
Something that touches me deep is lit itself.
Apart from the few very few trouble makers, the sense of community and love here is overwhelming. I came here not knowing what it was I was seeking and found a wonderful place far beyond anything I could imagine:)
The AH is starting to feel like home in particular:)
So thank you to everyone for being so welcoming and helpful and just plain lovely:)
The support system here really takes my breath away... :rose:
well said. i completely agree. :kiss: :rose: :heart:
 
I Am Vertical

But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them-
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

~ Sylvia Plath
 
The proximity then was suffocating but I breathed the oxygen from your lungs and that was clean enough for me. Now I breathe and there is space and how I wish I could close it and breathe for two again.
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmVAWKfJ4Go

I hurt myself today to see if I still feel
I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything

What have I become, my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away in the end
And you could have it all: my Empire of Dirt
I will let you down; I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time the feeling disappears
You are someone else, I am still right here

What have I become, my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away in the end
And you could have it all: my Empire of Dirt
I will let you down; I will make you hurt

If I could start again, a million miles away
I would keep myself. I would find a way
 
in this desert land
I know some rain must fall
see where we began
we've come so far
on this harbor shore
we hear the ocean call
in our minds at war
we have so far to go

shine with all the untold
hold the light given unto you
find the love to unfold
in this broken world we choose

in unending storms
we search for space to breathe
how our hearts are worn
we've come so far
in this desert
how we blossom and we cease
tell your story now
we have so much to know
 
The First Time Ever I saw Your Face - Leona Lewis

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the empty skies.

and the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hands
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love.

And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last and last and last till the end of time

The first time ever I saw your face, your face,
your face, your face
 
John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charactry,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the fairy power
Of unreflecting love; —then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
 
Something that touches me deep is lit itself.
Apart from the few very few trouble makers, the sense of community and love here is overwhelming. I came here not knowing what it was I was seeking and found a wonderful place far beyond anything I could imagine:)
The AH is starting to feel like home in particular:)
So thank you to everyone for being so welcoming and helpful and just plain lovely:)
The support system here really takes my breath away... :rose:
We're one, but we're not the same
We've got to carry each other
Carry each other
One

(your post brought these lyrics to mind. Kind of a "we're all differnt, but we're community" type of feeling. :) )
 
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The Powerbook: Jeanette Winterson

'Love is an assault course.'

'Some wounds never heal.'

'I'm sorry.'

She held out her hand. What a strange world it is where you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo. I'm talking about the real thing, the grand passion, which may not allow affection or convenience or happiness. The truth is that love smashes into your life like an ice floe, and even if your heart is built like the Titanic you go down. That's the size of it, the immensity of it. It's not proper, it's not clean, it's not containable.

She held out her hand. 'You're still angry.'

'I'm still alive.'

What to say? That the end of love is a haunting. A haunting of dreams. A haunting of silence. Haunted by ghosts it is easy to become a ghost. Life ebbs. The pulse is too faint. Nothing stirs you. Some people approve of this and call it healing. It is not healing. A dead body feels no pain.

'But pain is pointless.'


'Not always.'

'Then what is the use of suffering? Can you tell me that?'

She thinks I'm holding on to pain. She thinks the pain is a souvenir. Perhaps she thinks that pain is the only way I can feel. As it is, the pain reminds me that my feelings are damaged. The pain doesn't stop me loving - only a false healing could do that - the pain tells me that neither my receptors nor my transmitters are in perfect working order. The pain is not feeling, but it has become an instrument of feeling.
 
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