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I jumped,
Thinking you would catch me.
When I fell for you
I fell to my death.
if revenge breeds revenge,
will there ever be an end?

if killing breeds killing,
will there ever be a change?

if war breeds war,
will there ever be a peace?
in this chaotic world
the "law of the jungle"
remain unchange
……
this was inspired by the book i've read
……
the first sentence was not written by me
Can I ever forgive him for leaving?
I remember it was a cold, cold morning,
as the saying goes:
Nothing burn like the cold inside your heart  :Quote

The cheery *** whistle  louder than the factory whistle:
I got so tired of fighting with the devil:
And on the other hand asking the lord for strength and guidance
to made it throughout the days ,
But as the old saying goes
He only helps them, who help themselves

Sometimes our love: Isn’t strong enough to caged them in
I remembered opening my journal and jot down notes on events,
That led up to the day of his leaving: I began to sort out my
  my plus and minuses like a grocery list on a low budget:
my thought turned to the innocence young lady sleeping in the other room

The way in which we met, a love that was pure, a love that was consent
and everything was about to be change that morning
I remembered sounds of the boots, I remembered the melt down
I remember the song, I remember the lyrics
These boots were made for walking.
One of these days those boots going to walk all over you.

It felt like if the devil boots were walking away from us
Down the street, away from my home ,
boots that had walked all over me for five years.

It was finally coming to an end:
The boots walked toward the elevator door
For the last time, the last slam, the last tear drop
and the last grip of the devil touch.

The heart can get really cold if all you’ve known in winter :Quote
Winter , Heartaches, love , lost , guidance , strength
No human emotion
Can ever be dignified enough
I will always tilt my head
Down in disgust
At my very own own words
Own feelings
And I will be repulsed
Emotions are the tools
Of
Children
I am too old to express feelings
How disgusting
I am the painting, but if he thinks he has all the brushes he is mistaken
I feel him shifting
Paint strokes drifting
little does he know
but I'll never dare tell him I am letting go.
I prepare myself for what drifts on the horizon
The salty wind                 blowing                 through blue skies, and
and god,
I feel ourselves sliding so askew
Here I go, painting myself anew.
You hit a point where you start running
Sprinting as fast as you can
Never looking back
Until you're tired I guess
Until I'm tired and I sit and watch the past
Running over the horizon
Getting closer
I wait in terror
Until soon it is close and I want to go back
Back to the things I used to know
The past gets close enough I can smell its breath
But I cannot quite reach it.
I gave you all my love
I threw myself in with no reserves
Everything you were,
Both good and bad
I loved without strings or requirements

I gave you all my love
And you can't say the same
That's why I know peace

But love for you will become and endless chasing game
You'll seek my ghost in every girl
But I won't be found
You'll never be able to erase the mistake
Of not giving us your all
My frightened friend once said to me:
"I'm scared... I think I'm gay, no longer straight!"

To which I replied:
"I do not care, I like you for who you are, and to me you're still my mate"
Mate = Friend
Solitude,
The extension of my body,
Living at the end of my fingertips,
Eating me alive.

Solitude,
The friend I've had for years,
The only one to wipe my tears
As I die in my sleep.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude,
The one who never leaves,
Never disappears,
The one I'll always have
Here, with me.

Solitude,
In the darkest corners of my mind
I will always find you
loving me, caressing me.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude...
My one and only


Solitude
Imagine wanting to say something,
Having so much to say,
But nothing will come out.
You're trapped in your own mind.
It's as if you have stage fright,
And the whole world is a stage,
And you can't speak the lines
That you've rehearsed
Over and over, countless times.

Imagine people telling you
To stop being shy, to talk,
But they don't understand
How real this fear is.

What if you say the wrong things?
What if no one likes you?
Feeling as if they think you're weird,
That they don't want to talk to you.
And it's those fears that trap the words,
Trap all the things you have to say.
It's not easy, it's terrifying.
And no one seems to get it,
This is not just shyness,
This is not antisocial,
It's anxiety, it's a phobia.
And it hurts.
I'm so tired of being told to get over it.
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