Tag: lost

better days

each breath joins the next yet… i am a seed -burnt thrown aside guts torn out and in secret you gloat at my ruin to wither in concrete my soiled mind turnt bitter what became of us and better days jealous rage and infernos beamed high in soot -i cry yet each breath joins the…

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do you fear he understands keep walking don’t let it end this way from where he comes to seek good your soul undone the thickness -sick coats his tongue ripe and sweet lies of deceit his idea of trick and treat

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Confession: Army Brigade

I haven’t been reading much blog posts. I find in my depressed moods i can barely emerge from my cocoon… and anxiety is worse to try and read. Is it selfish to wonder if others are reading me? Heck, i rebel against these letters. Yet, they some how keep the union strong. Unite against me.…

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long-winded roads

all these stories i read them… pause in the middle of the road to notice the caution sign turning cars approach from all directions i wonder where are the exclamation points, periods, and paranthesis? i find these neglected words dismiss traffic signs thickly settled, a clue to, too many people tracing the same thick yellow…

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ramble on

i may never meet such a man -again covered in satin words edged in diamonds born in his throat the fire sparked through never heard a syllable the rat-a-tat-tat -thunder our hearts beating faster he hides in my hair a stinger barette left behind to chew

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thought i saw tracks in sand resembling flight you -left behind fated stings my petalled lips painted red Daily Post -rebel

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Afraid to let you go i twine the words of complicated grief there was no goodbye never another hello and then i made it worse opened myself wide displayed before savage eyes killed myself slowly with little pride to show flames shooting higher than ever thought possible i sold my soul to the devil who…

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Try. They tell me it is a matter of time. I know better having walked the arid soil with a bucket of water. The beauty in her soul creeps no more.

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The deepest, darkest rises in the fog, burned away -hidden desire. Oh, why feel so free behind the screen? And how our creator tapped into the sensual, leaves us mourning the loss of soul.

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Interior Designer

And automatically, the words became sentences, with stems and petals. Forced from the fertile soil, stories grew arms and legs. They not only held her dreams but they carried her to lands far away. People have no idea what’s going on in my head. Most days i wish i didn’t either.

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