words by dominic riccitello

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  • Dec 8, 2014

    If you do everything you could’ve, you’ll never think you should’ve.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 8, 2014

    Even though he doesn’t have my heart, he always has a place in it.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 8, 2014

    The relationship was intergalactic in a sense that we weren’t supposed to happen within that moment.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 7, 2014

    mirage

    i remember the day
    like i recall the pain
    i remember your face
    like i long for grace
    i remember your hair
    as if you were always there

    the hallway — sitting there, calling
    the voicemails and how your presence was inconsistent
    and when they rolled that body past me
    you never did ask me
    it was just a sudden flee

  • Dec 7, 2014

    Only you have the choice to determine how much a person matters.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 6, 2014

    Our dance was beautiful. The essence was incredible and the emotions were pure like nothing I have ever felt before.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 6, 2014

    I can give you everything, which includes all of me, but will it mean anything?

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 5, 2014

    natural movement

    my knees are weak with pity
    as my savior clings with the sea
    he lies, he wakes, he used to hang from a beautiful tree
    the fruit of my eye, the sweet nectar in the sky

    i cry, i slip, i roll with it
    the subliminal leaves me stonelike
    his criminal creates what could’ve been
    i hang on thoughts, climb through crevices

    for the sea, i sail with hope and long-lost dignity
    swim with intensity, for the ace of hearts
    i am the wind as you are him
    you sail with curiosity as i glide through the air

    i am here, you are there
    you coast with thoughts of power and destruction
    i transcend with hours of memories and what shouldn’t
    i am the smooth, the calm, the air that lingers
    the one who used to sit and observe as i sat in subliminal danger

  • Dec 5, 2014

    The saddest form of art is the one that speaks truth, dignity and an uneasy vulnerability.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Dec 4, 2014

    I love your work. What drives you to write?

    My urge to understand someone else’s thought process. 

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