all of you.
your hands and heartbeat,
your wildfire and blizzard.
in which i smelled every thought that went through your head.
the one that consumes me and reaches my knees.
i think of you late at night,
early in the morning,
you never leave my thoughts.
you're there and you're plaguing my intellect;
you stupid, stupid thing with the lightest dark eyes.
you put out cigarettes butts on my heart but i never winced.
you burnt each eyelash of mine but i never yelled.
you drew out all the blood from my system,
pulled out all my teeth,
tore out my lungs,
and left me rotting on the sidewalk waiting, again, for you.
you broke the glass ceiling over my head,
tore the rug out from under my feet,
fed me cyanide and spoiled fish,
washed the blood off your tongue,
and i loved you with every bit of my tired heart.
and here i am now,
rotten, bleeding, and loving
asking you to give me back
just a piece of the innocence i gave you.
just trying to raise awareness
u can buy one of mine if u want or anything by josain splorgat i'd recommend too
just name search on amazon and you'll find em
Of having nothing,
As we are surrounded,
By eternal riches,
That we are all,
Capable of sharing,
Our wealth comes,
In the form of Love,
Soak it up,
Love is plentiful,
And it generates,
A wonderful feeling,
The giving and receiving,
Of this gift
Can have such a precious,
We are blessed!
it's been awhile since I last woke up
drenched on wet pillow sheets
mellow sinking thoughts
I figured, perhaps
these cold clouds weren't settled enough
after the last few dregs
from beating itself up against those
thick films of ice
I could try but
I'm afraid to wrap myself in the obvious
they stick their fingers into you
like you're made of holes and empty spaces
prodding and poking and touching until you itch
they turn your own body into a playground
playing hopscotch and stealing marbles
hiding behind the tree and teaching each other swears
they turn your mind into a war zone
words and whispers turn into bombs and tanks
and they bomb your thoughts while you bathe
they turn you into a mess
scared of your own shadow, scared of committing
scared of everything, but that's okay cause you're barely even living
Glory to the one true king
The only one worthy of my praise
And the original verse which was written down
For the final song I will sing someday
Glory to him
The God of perfection
Who far above and beyond
All of these most imperfect thing
For I am not him
But I will do my best in everything
You decided to
smile your way through,
all the way into my heart,
with the smile of a silent assassin
I can't recall letting in,
and the eyes of a risk,
a risk I'm willing to take
because what do I have to lose?
In the end,
the rage that makes your heart quake
is equal to the love
which makes your bones shake
and out of all the madness
coating the world in debris,
you'd still be the one I'd choose.
I could chew my way
through all the armless hugs,
through all the silences,
but an infestation of truth
tore away the mask
which allowed me to pursue
such a mindless task,
and now I can no longer
act so automatic,
no longer just a passenger
in my own mind,
I'm either indifferent or dramatic.
And now the entrace is closed
for what I detest,
you're a part of me and
I hope you don't mind,
but darling, your knives
were always the hardest to digest.
What is it that stops us from questioning
the scaffolding of our reality?
Why aren't more of us solipsists?
Shouldn't we all be like those
delusional violent ones?
They see no reason
to think the world exists
outside their heads
Therefore their thoughts influence
their reality more and more
All of our thoughts
influence the reality
We sense to a varying degree
unique to each of us
But do we really all, for the most part
believe some ho-hum passivity?
Oh, what pressures magnetize our brains