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meixi-li
meixi-li
As an artist, I paint with words. Careful, they might not be dry. Try not to let them drip off your screen.
Up in the branches, Ripples dance across the sky, And drip through the leaves.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
Ripples
She strikes me across my face blood seeps into my eyes and mouth i have come to a conclusion I raise the knife to my chest and smile I am happy death is not a bright light nothing at the end of a tunnel it is peace waking up is violent my shoulders heave as i ***** blood mixed with water i stare into her black eyes fear ebbs through me i am doomed it has been seven years i have not aged death is a cycle of terror life is not precious life is wasted on us life is nothing until the world ends humanity cowers thinking unto infinity another few billion years anothers few generations too little, too pitiful going back in time as i held that blade anew i know this will carry on until negative infinity
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
square root of infinity
How ordinary they seem these dull-eyed cattle not a spark nor a glimmer of intelligence -is there more to life? they wonder the answer was right there in front of their small beady eyes eyes that could not see beyond the mundane world they chose to inhabit to pollute -is there something wrong? they ask. they think they are so caring, smart, suprerior. But they're not. They put on an air of menace a facade of what they are not they think they can fool anyone anything but let me tell you you are never going to be what you think of your filthy selves I am ashamed to be human.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
mortals
A teardrop splatters on glass rubbed with red splashed with blood the remnants of a life long gone. Able to stare able to glance able to brush the surface to watch breath fog the glass but not welcome. They turn their heads but they do not see sights they deem unworthy you see them laugh longing to laugh with them. Claws rake that border indenting that smooth sheet a terrible screeching an onomatopoia of sorrow devoid of life. You watch them smile you watch them kiss you watch them without you how happy they seem. What must be done. You painstakingly turn away.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
A Pane Of Glass