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Ember Evanescent Nov 2014
POEM FOR IMALRIGHT
Dear Imalright
I discovered your poetry and LOVED all of it. I was struck by lots of what you wrote and it inspired to write this to you. I promise you I mean every word of it.
I read your poems:
Unexceptional
Unbeautiful
Anxiety at 3AM
Two sad teenagers
Relapse
Fifteen
Starving artist
2014
Nothing special
Rough Edges & a dorky face
Under eyes
I adored them and spent the better part of a full day, hours and hours combing through the verses, dissecting the poems, analyzing the words and fully appreciating your incredible work. I picked out my very favorite phrases or yours that I found particularly powerful and moving and responded to these lines. I wanted to start a challenge. (In fact I posted this challenge as a poem, you can find it on my page).
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. I just thought that you seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on your poetry so I chose you, Imalright. So here it is:

Your head whispers these words that crawled onto the page:

We're the kind of people that fade into the background

that people forget are in the room.

-Imalright

I won’t say something that the rest of society seems to think fixes everything. I won’t tell you the typical: you are important to everyone, you are not just a faded part of the background, people do notice you etc. because those are empty words everyone uses and they people who are always pretty in the spotlight are always the ones to say it, so what do they really know about the background, forgotten, white-noise people like us?

I will tell you, instead, I know it hurts like hell to be forgotten. For your existence to go unnoticed. I know being a part of the background is never anyone’s first choice. I am a backdrop-dweller myself. I am the unnoticed girl who blends in with the shadows. There is nothing wrong with that.
Never forget that the starry night sky is a background too. You can still be wonderful without being the center of attention. You can still be wonderful even if you are a part of the background. I want you to know, I noticed your poetry. I noticed you, and your name, and your wonderful talent and I have spent my time dissection every poem you have posted because every single one of them, is a different shade of amazing. We are all backgrounds in someways but what we choose as our phone screen backgrounds tend to be pictures of what we love the best. Pictures of beautiful things. There is nothing unbeautiful about the background. So from one forgotten soul in a room to another, I your poetry was just another account in millions like the stars but you are one of the loveliest sections of this world’s background I have ever seen. Keep that in mind. 







I just wish that I was one of those beautiful things.

-Imalright

Once again, I won’t use a society phrase like: Everyone is special and beautiful in their own ways!! Because people don’t seem to get that no matter what they say, it doesn’t even matter if it is true, but if you tell someone who thinks they are not one of those beautiful things that they are beautiful They. Do. Not. Believe. You. It just doesn’t matter, it won’t change their mind, it doesn’t help and it doesn’t fix it. It just makes them feel like you are lying to them and then they feel vain and self-conscious about admitting to you that they don’t feel beautiful etc. etc. I’ve been there so I know.
So I won’t tell you that. But I will tell you a couple facts instead.

It is a fact, that there is ugly inside of every single person.
It is also a fact, that there is beauty inside every single person.
Because beauty is NOT a definable concept. It is different to every person depending what kind of lens they look through and let me tell you, physical beauty is artificial and even though I wish I could be physically attractive in my own eyes, I have come to accept and I hope you have too or will as well, that a deeper beauty than that is inner beauty. What you keep in the cracks and crevices you made yourself in your soul. I think you are beautiful. I the pages you’ve written on soaked with ink made out of your inner self is magnificent. Your way with words and your flow of thoughts, the way you look at life through an indigo-tinted-one-way-glass-lens, it is all a whispering sort of beauty. Like the soft ringing sound of raindrops skimming the window pane on a grey sky, storm cloudy day. That same sort of delicate loveliness. I think you are a very unique and exquisite color of beautiful unlike any other poet I’ve ever seen. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, we can’t label ourselves friends since I have never spoken to you, but friends are basically socially required to tell you that you are beautiful whereas strangers are bound by no such obligation, yet still I tell you, I find you a person with a beautiful soul. I have only ever seen your poetry, but that is enough for me to know you are a beautiful person. After all, poetry is really where our souls spill what they are truly composed of. If I were to judge your beauty by your face and actions, all those are altered by circumstances beyond our control, society standards and pressure etc. What you do does not define you. Your soul does, however. You are beautiful to me. 







I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED I JUST WANTS THINGS TO BE OKAY

-Imalright
A truthful scream of the heart that many have felt. It’s funny that we all have this same base desire that tends to reveal itself more and more the later at night it gets, and yet we all still suffer the feeling of being unloved and unokay alone and silently. I wish I could reach out and fix you because the pain of others that is out of my reach always pains me more than any kind of physical agony I could ever endure. I can’t fix you though, so instead I offer you the only thing I can, I am with you. As a friend, just another soul on the earth who has felt this feeling you express in this line. I reach out with the hands of my spirit and for your spirit. Maybe if you know that I too have felt unloved and unokay you can find comfort and strength in that. Because no matter what kind of darkness you face, literal or internal, I find being united with someone empathetic to you who knows how you feel makes it just a little less scary even if it is just a sliver of hope for even just a second. It is something and the idea of “hereness’ you know, like being “here” for you, being “with” you in that emotion is all I can offer and I just want you to know, I love everyone and everything until I am given a good reason not to. So in a way, even if not on a personal level (because I do not know you, so I can’t love you on a personal level the way a sister loves a sister or a best friend loves a best friend) just generally, you are loved by me, because I love your poetry and I love all things that haven’t given me reason not to. And do you know what? Even though it hurts and it is unfair, everyone has to be unokay for a little while. I have been too. Maybe you were unokay for longer than what could possibly be near just or humane or reasonable but you were strong enough to pull through. I applaud you for this and want you to know your strength in powering through your unokayness has been recognized and admired. By me. Because the warriors are the ones up at 3AM having anxiety attacks but never let it show and you are a warrior. I am proud to call you a fellow poet.




but being sad and lonely is worse than being sad.

-Imalright
I know what you mean by this line. It is sculpted so beautifully though. The words in the phrase are just so raw and honest. Not over romanticized, just plain relatable great poetry in its true form as it should be. Wonderful. I hope you have found refuge from loneliness or will find refuge from it soon in finding someone else’s heart to call your own and in your heart belonging to someone else.





A new scar for that comment that boy said.
A new scar for that friend that betrayed you.
A new scar for every word you swallow.

-Imalright
That boy has scars of his own and he thought it would make them fade if he cause you to have scars too. ***** him. The betrayal of a friend is a special kind of pain like being stabbed with a knife you made yourself. A pain I know too well and wish no one else knew. Let the scars heal and do not swallow words. You will choke pretty soon if you don’t. Keep in mind that you are worth more than scars. I think you are worth more than scars.






You don't know how bad things are.

-Imalright
First off, I love this line. Just so simple and yet so relatable. There is some beauty to that. Sort of like thorns on a rose stem. Although they can be piercing and ugly there is magnificence that goes along with it. To be 15 and not know how bad things are, you have the rest of your life to obsess over the bad things and how awful things really are. You have the rest of your earthly existence to be broken, so like a child’s smile, at least you had that one moment in your life when things weren’t shattered as far as you knew.





With nowhere to go but everywhere
-Imalright
What an extraordinary thought. Such a liberating idea. You have really inspired me with this one single phrase. Keep in mind, you can be so inspiring to people who don’t even know you (like me) just with your words. You really make such a difference in this world. I have decided after reading this line, I’m going to try and let a little bit of that philosophy into my life. Nowhere to go but anywhere.

And that hope is going to make me stop doing this to myself.

-Imalright
Well, I really hope so too. I hoped for hope to save me for way too long. Eventually you gotta find it in yourself because this world is a little short on Hope, its main export being Despair. Just know you are not alone in this. I wish Hope was something you could wrap and mail it to someone who needs it but I can’t hand you Hope. I cannot offer it to you physically but if it helps at all, if it creates Hope for you, I want you to know that I personally, desperately from the bottom of my heart hope to God, genuinely thinking of you individually as a person that you have healed or are healing or will heal through Hope. If that helps. I have been crumbling, but somehow, after a hell of a lot of anguish, I found Hope. You can too. If it doesn’t help then I offer you my hand spiritually and metaphorically. Stay hopeful, because in this world, that is all we have.






i'm nothing special
im not beautiful
i'm not gifted

-Imalright
I know I can’t change your mind the same way no one can change mine when it comes to how self-image and esteem, but I just wanted to tell you even if you don’t believe me, in my eyes and in my opinion, not saying this to be fake or just being nice. If it weren’t true I just wouldn’t bring it up or say anything about it but you are VERY special. …okay that doesn’t sound good that sounds like the kind of special people put in quotations like: oh, she’s um… you know, “special” alright…
What I meant was, you are special because your poetry has made a difference in my life. You insightful view into life, your precious unprecedented perspective on the world and how you perceive it is very special. I have already explained why I think you are beautiful internally and keep in mind there is no such thing as one type of physical beauty. It is all about opinion and to some person or some people out there, you ARE physically perfect. To them, your physical traits are their definition of beauty because beauty doesn’t have a size, a color or a shape. That is the beautiful thing about beauty. And you are gifted at poetry, that’s for **** sure. Your poems are absolutely toxically flawless I adore them and I really, really mean that. Your writing is close to my heart. That may come across rather creepy sorry about that haha :P but you need to know that you are gifted when it comes to beautiful words.






No one will make me believe that all of my flaws aren't wonderful.

-Imalright
Such a sensational thought and resolve. I really and truly admire and acknowledge your indescribable strength I wish I could achieve to not only accept but embrace your flaws. You are such a strong person and I want to thank you for being such an inspiration to me and the rest of the world, doing that and finding that truth within yourself that flaws are wonderful things.
wondering why i had shattered myself in the process of picking up someone else's pieces

-Imalright

Okay, before I say anything else… omfg wow holy mother of waffles. (That is not a very common expression but I am so struck by the priceless incredibleness of this line I can’t think straight. Also, waffles are good.) This is amazing… how do you come up with stuff like this???!! The imagery, the metaphor, the power of the phrase embedded in the words just… wow. Spectacular. God, I just really, REALLY hope with every ounce of my soul you find a way to repair yourself or someone to repair you because to lose yourself, saving someone else who was broken is so heroically tragic it breaks my heart because you are such a beautiful person.




Dear Imalright
I offer you Poet’s Love.
One poet to another.
I admire your work and your work is made out of little parts of you.
I admire you and your strength, your writing abilities and your outlook on life.
Never ever change.
I hope you find Hope.
Message me anytime should you need anything.
And I want to thank you for being such a strong inspiration to the race of people we call: Poets.
Love,
Ember Evanescent.
DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE
Michaela Feb 2015
He means very little to me-
on a regular, uninterrupted day.
But when he talks to me,
he is maliciously welcoming.
He's toxically enduring
and determinedly warm.

It's possible Stockholm Syndrome,
it's definite injustice.
Sweet, sweet injustice.
Sweet interruptions.
My sweet bitterness to his sweet nonchalance.
And then;
sweet realisation that I may not be alright,
but merely distracted.
I always thought I was doing okay.
Olivia Kent May 2015
Taffeta dress.
Pink bows and ribbons,
Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair.
Shoes made of crystal glass.
Azure eyes that allure.
Princes and spinsters.
All vying for love.
In ball gowns.
Feel the frowns.
The pauper descends.
Out of place, amid friends.
Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan.
Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne.
They're trying for love.
Met on the staircase.
We really don't really care case.
Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger .
Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels.
Nasty creatures.
Vile in lust.
Lustful greed.
Maternal demon seed.
Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust.
Crone godmother.
A quick sip of milk.
Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph.
Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed.
Transport to the princes ball.
In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie.
Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice.
The creatures were shocked.
By the changes, all the rearrangements.
Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport.
Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her.
Midnight came midnight went.
A glorious evening only lent.
She tripped on the stair,
Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders.
She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee.
Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be.
He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride.
All the best things found in fairy tales.
What do I find?
Just slugs and snails.
Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic.
(c)Livvi MMCV
aar505n Jun 2015
And then the Spark -
did ignite in me terribly so -
dose of doubtful Diction - unleashed.
And the soul needs comforts too -
Soothing for its Aches - Oh! - but the Aches!
It Aches terribly so.
Humanity toxically hurts - causes the pain.
Yet, Company can cure this curse -
Paradoxically entwined with Mankind.
If only all men were kind.
This Spark would surely not burn - bleed -
so terribly so.
- No -
This Spark would blaze up Celestially - Angel's push towards the ethereal beauty - and then -
Sarah Mann Jun 2018
Lie to me.
Please for the sake of my sanity.
For my delicate beating heart.
Tell me that you still love me.
Even if it’s a lie, I don’t want to lose you just yet.
Reassure of me of your undying feelings.
Of your beautiful soul that still cares for mine.
Please, please tell me you still love me.
Just one more time, just for one more night.

Meet you downstairs right?
For Friday night adventures, and Saturday morning breakfasts.
Where did it all go?
How did it all vanish like smoke drifting upwards from a tear in the hatch?
I thought that maybe in some alternate timeline,
That we were going to be the perfect match.
I refuse to believe that I’m mistaken, I’m afraid to be.
Terrified really.
My stomach falls to floor, as I sort through the letters
That you sent to my hotel.
Where did that love go?

Say something, or don’t, I suppose.
Is it really that hard? I’m not quite sure I understand.
How is so easy for you to deceive me
and leave me completely stranded and lonely?
I thought you were so gorgeous when
Those words fell from your mouth.
I knew that every single one was
Dipped in deadly poison.
But it didn’t matter in the slightest.
I was determined to interpret your words as truth.
I would believe in whatever you were to say to me,
In some ways it was dangerous. I agree
The way that I was so toxically
And completely dependent on your existence.

The person I used to be,
No longer needs your false histories
But lies cold and empty
Alone, but looking back,
Honestly, it’s preferable
To the company
Of someone like you,
Someone who’s callous and heartless
And above all
A liar.
Don't really remember writing this, but the emotions behind the words are so real and raw. Last edited May 21, 2018.
Harley Oliver Nov 2014
beyond my time
beneath your still
paralyzed my mind
against my will
pink lids, bruised lips
all down to your fingertips
ruined me from the start
no time to clench
or protect my heart
rocking me in the hilt of your spoon
toxically spilling
too fast, too soon
i am lost to memory and
sketches of passing time all in just a split
and i wanted to be loved so badly,
i would have let anyone do it
Ember Evanescent Oct 2014
You're a hardcover novel I can't seem to put down with charming tea stains on your pages, endearing creased corners and torn edges I look upon fondly but I can't open you far enough to break the bind of your spine. I’ll keep trying though as I soak in and inhale every toxically flawless inky letter you are composed of, scribbling quotes from your chapters onto my wrists so I feel like I always have you with me until I know your story inside and outside, forwards and backwards, by heart. You have and immensely lovely and irresistible sleeve around you and a fascinatingly stirring summary for your description on the back but I’m more interested in what’s inside. It’s an incomplete tale though so I hope I get the chance to rewrite the rougher parts like the heartbreaking paragraphs of your past and maybe I’ll get to be a co-author for typing out your happy ending.

Please repost if you have ever experienced or are experiencing the budding beginnings of puppy love
Please comment! I love to read any thoughts you have on my poetry or poetry itself as an art! :)
Please repost if you have ever experienced or are experiencing the budding beginnings of puppy love
Please comment! I love to read any thoughts you have on my poetry or poetry itself as an art! :)
Shiloh Morrison Sep 2011
His breath on my skin
his hand on my heart
his devilish sin
his poisonous dart

that pierced my body
made me toxically ill
paralyzed my mind
against my will

He left me here
angry and alone
wondering what happened
unable to move a bone

and yet, i miss him
despite all the pain
my senses are dim
as my soul is aflame

How did this happen
his arid dejection
I gave him my all
my every affection

Obviously it didn't mean
as much to him
as it did to me
Aaron LaLux Aug 2018
At a loss for what it costs for these dreams,
my boss is a bot I mean a mean machine,
I mean that it seems,
they talk but I do not know what they mean,

I mean I got a feeling,
that sometimes things are not what they seem,
but I mean,
how can things not not be what they seem,

& it seems that we’re sleep walking in a day dream,
or more of a nightmare where they don’t fight fair when they feign,
& we scream but can’t wake up our minds or make up the time as it speeds,
on an assembly line butchering swine while dining on ham & cheese,

& I want to defy all of these lies,
but I don't have the time nor the energy,
so I write the signs of our times line after line,
instead of going head to head or eye to eye with the enemy,

trying to write it all out even though still I don't know what's gotten into me,

& still it’s obnoxious to to think,
that they’ve lost their conscience to memes & their consciousness to drinks,
unconscious to all things exotic while being white washed up in mainstreams,
lost in constant nonsense on narcotics it’s all gone in a smoky noxious steam,

while toxically ****** overgrown weeds sown from GMO seeds,
create these monsters that feign for meaningless things,
like rings that bling & the profits that conquest brings,
& they won’t stop this nonsense until they pop like a viral venereal disease,

I mean I’m honest I mean I mean what I say & I say what I mean,
& honestly I say they’ll **** the whole cow just for the cream,
I say they're an obese disease concealed between two legs in designer jeans,
as they march in unison an army of ants that only answer to the Queen Bee,

Martyrs for Dollars with corporate sponsors,
broadcast worldwide on cable TV,
I mean why do you think the youngest billionaire in history,
is a degenerate Jenner by the name of Kylie,
it's not a coincidence that she profits from cosmetics,
I mean cosmetics cause cancer which benefits the pharmaceutical industry,
& I don't mean that personally I mean I'm not sure what's gotten into me,
or why I'm speaking so recklessly without offering any apologies,
like a Kamikaze **** drunk on whisky,
standing in the street like “c’mon cop man frisk me!”,
or a Stalin on Ritalin or better yet a Britney with bad kidneys,
still collecting those royalty checks from Daddy Walt Disney,
& it’s all moving so fast I can’t get a grip or a grasp,
& not only am I disoriented but I’m also starting to get dizzy,

I mean,
it seems things can not not be all that they seem,

I mean,
it seems these words can not read all that they mean,

I mean,
it seems we sold out our dreams when we bought into these screens,

I mean,
it seems I don’t know if I really know if I know what I say or say what I mean,

I mean,
it's confusing to try & make sense of this nonsense & I'm sick of explaining,
I mean it’s absolutely obscene what these monsters will do for the cream,
sacrifice the whole Holy Cow all in the name of the American Dream,

& I'm at a loss for what it costs for these dreams,
my boss is a bot I mean a mean machine,
I mean that it seems,
they talk but I do not know what they mean,

I mean I got a feeling,
that sometimes things are not what they seem,
but I mean,
how can things not not be what they seem...

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

from The Holy Trilogy Vol.2: Mandalas
available worldwide 8/8/18
Billy wore his shirt too long.
And was told by most that the thing smelt wrong.
Years went by without a clue,
For the facts that others knew.
One day, while dropping the Huxtables off at the pool.
The boy realized the back of his shirt was covered in stool.
Turns out the fabric kept getting entangled.
Leaving the shirt toxically mangled.
He’d gotten caught up in the t.p.
Leaving streaks for all to see.
Billy wore his shirt too long.
Leaving poo smears from wiping wrong.
“http://articles.latimes.com/2013/jan/08/entertainment/la-et-mg-al-roker-pooped-pants”
JWolfeB Sep 2014
I watched you get opened like the front page of a book that has already been written off. They took the words out of you mouth, plastered them across their beards and chugged them down with no hesitation. We don't have time for Icehouse and regret today. The fridge needs some company anyways.

Just frost the tips of the repression that occurred every time you winced your eyes at me, I knew to look the other way because blinding my memories with hate is no way to stroll into a future. I hate you for every beer drop you spilled on my potential. I hate you for ever false promise that dropped from your lungs.

I ******* hate everything about the way you wasted space in the compact ford escort of our house.

The smoke on your breathe expels lies and deceit. You have been playing the same ******* beat since yesterday afternoon of forever ago. It has rattled a family with fortified backbones into crumbled stones in a forgotten sandbox that simply lost touch with its inner child.

I feel like this is a bark through a mega phone in the forest that no one heard the tree fall.It's evident you're not capable of the contract you magically ripped apart with pen. You toxically signed the paper that set a fate challenge for an angel who never had a chance.

I need up being the sone of a *****, because after 44 years you have not taken responsibility for a single move you have made. I am still paying forward the pathetic slacks in your line. You never even took me fishing
A poem I wrote about some emotions I hold toward my father. Who left when i was 3.
Kaitlyn Jan 2014
We met at the crossroads of transition and vulnerability
I ached for attention
Your words worked toxically
Now you're in my bones
Which are splintered by reality
You're drowning yourself
And also me simultaneously
Haruka Jul 2014
Take her to your grave.
Take her to the place where
you buried memories of a past
that still chokes you up on
rainy days,
much like the one she left on.

Kiss her as you make love,
so that she can see the deepest part
of your heart,
the ugly side that makes you shiver
with the realization of just how much you have lost.

You are in love with a girl as bitter
as the rawest parts of you,
but believe me,
on the outside she's absolutely breathtaking,
completely divine.
But once you're covered in crumpled sheets
and messy pasts,
she'll melt into the cracks in the foundation.
Because you see,
she's lost just as much,
if not more,
than you have.

With loss and sin laced into her bones,
she is toxically beautiful.
You'll crave her sly smile in your bloodstream.
You'll crave the feeling of exhilaration dancing across
exhausted limbs expressing the idea of love
but never quite encompassing its true breadth.

She's deadly
and dangerous,
but you'll let her in.
They all do, eventually.
Because, with her big brown eyes,
and trembling fingertips,
you'll love her deeply.
But she'll leave you with the hollowness
of false salvation.
The darkness will come,
and when it does,
she won't be there to watch the tide turn.
But you'll love her anyways.
They all do.
austin Jan 2018
i am speechless

i am speechless at the thought of you
your care
               your words
                                 your smile
                                                         your potential.
bridges have fallen
                            crashed down
                                                  burned
a home ransacked
                             pillaged
                                          put in ruins

my heart melted from blind love

                                    and

your heart remained privately unyielding
                         toxically and stealthily.

i am speechless
saying less is sometimes smart
Nick Stiltner May 2018
I keep a pocket watch,
meticulously polished
and
insistently checked,
in my left breast pocket.

There it lives
on it ticks,
the soft clicks a reminder
of its continuous ticking
lasting far past the heart
that beats just below.

Toxically clean,
a faint scent of acetone drifts
on the wind as I walk pass,
head down and in a hurry.

I retreat quietly, gripping
the watch I rub in circles,
counter clockwise and
in compulsion,
an absent minded fidget
that helps panicked time pass,
it’s melodic clicks a
centering metronome.
Lady Elle Dec 2018
I have made you bleed
I have made you sweat
I have made you starve
I have made you ache

I have put you in the mud
I have put you in the ring
I have put you in the crossfire of heartbreak and misunderstanding

I have picked and prodded you like a foreign beast
I have roughed you up like a schoolyard bully
I have carelessly clutched & betrayed your touch

And, yet, toxically, you stay
You open eyes each morning
You rise
You move  
You work

You build things & restore tragedy
You absorb and give
You release
You force air inside your lungs
You put it there, even on the days I don't feel
You deserve to breathe

I am imperfect, as you very well know
But for what you have done
I look in the mirror
And desire to be


Kind.
Jayda James Nov 2020
Fatal attraction part II
Fatal attraction
Dissatisfaction
Would lead to the ultimate detachment
Fatal attraction
It's your love that's killing me
It's the slight thought that surrounds the thoughts of you killing me
Miles away , miles and miles away
The dark clouds fade, the dark clouds fade
Go away go away
Is it your exact face , that's really
Thats really killing me
Knowing that there are no part of you feeling me
I wanna go then i wanna fade from these broke down feelings
Why do I divide my mind
A fight i cant seem to win
But my inner thoughts just slowly let you in
Out of control I seem to lose control
But no i cant go no i cant go
Digging deep inside this bottomless hole
So where do we fall
If we do that at all
My mind sending off signs
Thats i don't intend to hold
Let me go
Let me free
My real thoughts I think?
Nah it could not be
Tell me why should I
When I know my true intentions
Why should I fight my heart and my mind for a position
But do you listen but do you listen
Nah I try to camaflouge these words in my spirit
If I cannot stop falling then I must stay put
For I do not know if what i may think is okay
To scared to hinder my name
Cool breeze old bay
I hope to learn to be okay
Whats ment to be will always remain
If i do believe i do retain
If its meant to be Lord send it my way
If not I'll be okay
No dont you look this way
I hold it so tight toxically thinking it'll stay
Let it fly and grow
And happiness to follow
A smile so wide
It'll carry you to tommorow
As the days past and the night seems to hit
I wonder do you remember the first time love exist
fatal attraction
Maniacal Escape Nov 2020
The journey is ******* the mind.
Once again we must jump the schadenfreude skipping rope.
Toxically self aware.
Dig the cane into the rock and step up again. Breathless.
Forgivable failure. Fanciful tales.

— The End —