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Anselme St-Vil Oct 2018
It was never meant to be. We hurt ourselves in the process.
You were confused about how you were supposed to feel. A connection made through the many words and rhymes that brought rhythm and self proclaimed wisdom to both of us.
I fell for the feeling of falling, not confused by my emotions, but unable to tame them.
A once shielded unattached young tomboyish chic, in the right sense of the word, was now wrapped up in a blanket she thought was her version of fairytale.
It was no one's fault she had to have that moment. it kept her grounded,might have been the hardest way to do it, but shaping a woman is never easy. She was weak to weak to make it out alone she had to reach rock bottom and on that floor watching her life slip away was when she realized nothing can sustain her other than the grace of God and herself.
Sure it took time sure she made mistake on her way to balance herself but it was needed it made her real, not because she pretend to know life is not a romantic tragedy, but because she now knew where she should never reach again.
Apr 2018 · 54
A crow's lullaby
Anselme St-Vil Apr 2018
This right here is my heart in rhyme
So I'm taking my time
I'll lay out my feelings
Inner peace I've been lacking
Thinking of the way I almost ended it all
Thinking of how in hell I could fall
I'm scared to inhale
Mentally drowning in a well
Can't explain in words the pain I felt
I'm made harden, can't let you see me melt
What's the point of swimming in the liquor
I’m right at home the effect in me just languor
Emotional *** at its peak boils
Can't hold it in, it don't fit the foils
Sick in tired of all the hiding
I'll walk around eyes balling out crying
Not for the attention
No need for affection
nor the subject of your reflection
I will let you see my tears
your judgement, no longer part of my fears
I was out here spending years
Scared of how you'll be affected by my tears
Thinking your incapable, ain't that your fears?
While I crippled myself broken for years.
Know for my torment I'm taking time
Glimpsing my life in these sort of rhyme.
Apr 2018 · 101
We make art
Anselme St-Vil Apr 2018
Laughing? Laughing! Yes excessive grinding.
He was always laughing as if life was amusing
         As if things were amazing.
            He was one to be jovial
             As if living an Eldorado,
                             Denial
Hurting? Hurting! Yes excruciating pain!
  As if joy, to her, was poison flowing in her veins.
       As if an obsession of hers, with (pain)
                    She bonded like chains.
Laughing? Hurting? Yes intoxicating love!
Their chemistry everywhere opposed except from above.
They have never paired better, a crow and a dove.
Depression, obsession! Yes undying passion!
       Together their love making... exclamation
As like no other to each other causing mental invasion
She was a maze to whom depression was not a phase
He was all gay to whom life bloomed like in month of May.
              And though to each their own
                They cannot stand alone
          For together they make symphony,
              A beautiful piece of poetry,
     An eccentric Harmony in a canvas less scenery!
                          They were artistry.

— The End —