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HollowBeThyName
HollowBeThyName
25/F/Texas Is this considered poetry? / / / Copyright ©2018 all rights reserved.
Don’t be afraid to take a big step, you can’t cross a chasm in two small jumps. David Lloyd George Chasm The definition of chasm can come in two forms 1. A deep fissure in the earth, rock, or another surface. 2. A profound difference between people, viewpoints, feelings, etc. Taking a big step is needed to cross both. To get over both and fetch for sanity. To reach for the furthest branch To take the leap To jump and release. Plummet towards the earth. Lose all sense of reality Master containing hope. Just don’t let go of that rope. Dangling from the tree of life Channeling the strength to fight No other human in sight. Hindered by the gift of design. Hindered by the thought of this lie. Desperate to forge tonight Hold my body up to the light. This law we cant defy.   Is this all we’re willing to try?
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Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC
Untitled
Graveyard shift ain’t got no **** on me Oh wait, held over my head I look up I realize It’s me watching me Nonsense thoughts Unobtainable shots I stop I look I call. I call myself out in the open I hold myself up to a fantasy A fantasy which took two years Two years to create Two years to assimilate And two to discover. I’ve discovered you and I know you. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you. But. But. But. There’s never a perfect time to get this thing right Temptations a ***** but so is karma All together held with a lick. Her knowledge of this has come with age And so it begins.
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Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 4:18 AM UTC
Graveyard shift
give yourself hope don't ever let go there has to be something other than these foes. hold yourself higher don't let yourself go. hearts full of doubt I know you must know we'll grow through this I just ******* know please please don't shed your hope open my eyes and just feel the blow.
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 1:07 AM UTC
The Blow.
Got the call before noon. I can't believe this news. Jerry, you're gone. I can't believe this news. My nephews and sister left all alone. I can't believe this news. I can't process. I can't. How could this happen? It is too soon for God to need you. My sister needs you. Johann needs you. Jaben needs you. I'm so sad. You're gone. This has to be a joke. What a cruel cruel joke. I need time to process. I need this to sink in. I need. I need.
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Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC
Death.
Stranded in the abyss between dreams and reality. An unhealthy position for me to put myself in. But as I open my eyes and focus on the picture, I realize I'm right where I need to be. Alone, Stranded, and Hungry. I strive to become someone who has never known hunger. I strive to become someone who can fly away as she pleases. I strive to become someone who fills herself with her own company. I strive. I strive. As I strive to become who I wish to be. I learn. And I learn to become every part of me that has been hiding in the shadows for the last couple dozen years. That's a long time to forget those parts of you. And they come back without hesitation.
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
Hidden.
What I am trying to say is, I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you; I will keep moving, but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs, and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved, and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer, and when you're here I feel it, and when you're not I feel it too. by : Alexandra Crawford
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
it hits you but not all at once or like a ton of bricks more like a constant migrane a dull throb with spikes of pain that strike you listlessly in vain in the oddest times and places it hits you in the middle of the night or while staring into your coffee ruminating twilight on your drive home or when you get caught in a stranger's sight it hits you and you'll want to hit back but you just can't connect
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC
Low Blow
*As this hole inside me grows It swallows, blackens, deepens, numbs Yet somehow remains the only thing Left to comfort me My hand in my own hand I stand on these two calloused feet Worn from the countless times I have walked alone No one is there to wipe my tears Or whisper sweet ramblings of comfort The echoes of their empathy Vanish within the depths This pit unnerves and dampens Each time I think I've grown stronger I only dig and descend deeper Into singularity*
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
Hollow