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Dead Account Jul 2017
As the metaphor goes,
people are like books.

Each hold a story with
pages beyond pages of
selective words and
twisting ink.

Within those stories are
tales ten times as much.
Tales that have changed the ending
for the better or worse.

Though it may be selfish and intruding,
I wish to read them all.

The exuberance,
the fall,
the bittersweet,
human lives are much more
interesting and dramatic than
meets the eye.

I deduce from faces of old and young
who both face must face same fate.

I read generations of dreams
in the tiny pupil of an eye.

Millions and trillions
of stories,
yet so little untold.
So little of the ones that would
impact the world with such great force.

Would it be so idealistic
to wish to tell them all?

If given the chance, may I perhaps,
peek into your significant story?

May I perhaps
share it with the world?

It's up to the writer to decide
to have their stories
let out to society's eye
buried in the silent voices,
forever lost and untold.

Here I will wait,
writing and scrawling
tales like yours.
This was made on the spot without any plan, so pardon me if there are any mistakes, awkward flow, or difference of usual style. This poem was less of a poem and more of a poetic announcement. I am currently still tweeking on my main work, which is a story-based poem. It's dragging along much more than I presumed, so please wait for me as I finish that! I hope you enjoyed this fill-in.
  Jun 2017 Dead Account
I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because the last time I opened up to someone artistically they told me it was pretty dark and I should keep it to myself.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because I was raised in a culture that was anti love and pro meaningless ***. I saw endless commercials about movies that glamorize a lifestyle in which your body is fulfilled but your heart is ignored and at that impressionable age I learned my heart came second but my allure came first and the less I cared that happier I would be and I carried that belief around with me the way I used to carry around a Bible as a child.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because of the time that I opened my father’s phone to reveal a family secret I would hold to this day against my own moral instincts unraveling miles of insecurities wondering if I’m not a good enough daughter or if he stopped loving my mother or if true love was never real and although I had been taught marriage was my purpose, it was what I believed would make me happy, maybe rings aren’t enough to stay in love and maybe people’s feelings change and maybe no one actually has a “one true love” and that this purpose I had been taught was really an endless wild goose chase that only lead to broken families and lost souls.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because sometimes I still wonder why I fell into an abyss of toxicity at such a young age. And when I say wonder I don’t mean a trivial ponder, I mean I contemplate every possible reason why the person who I once believed held the universe in her eyes would lie to my face, why she never kissed me in public and our love was always a secret, why she valued girls with blue hair but my blonde hair was not good enough, why I had to hide bruises from my family when I was still in high school or more importantly, why at the time, I thought I deserved them. These thoughts, this lingering paranoia that I am undeserving of healthy love, they muddy my interpretations of real life and distort reality and effect my relationships. My doctor would call these intrusive thoughts, my best friend would tell me they’re symptoms of PTSD, but I have come to realize that I’ve been burned and I am damaged and I hope to god I can recover.

But you,
Oh god, you
You can write this poem. You can be my safety net while I’m free falling in love. You can be the one to listen to my mental tilt-a-whirls, you can be the one that introduces my body and my heart, you can be the one that calms the storms in my mind when I’m questioning the love I’m deserving of. You are the one who makes sure I fall asleep in my bed after drunk nights, you are the one that still sees my value after acknowledging my flaws.
You can write this poem.
Dead Account Jun 2017
They were fairy dust against an onyx velvet sky.
Truly, they were magical.
Generations told generations that they hold an eons world of wishes and hopes.
Stars; a sight to behold.

Above the Eiffel Tower with a soothing quiet, that is when they are best, and a certain duo appreciated them;
however, from diverse perspectives.

This woman, bless her for her feats of finding her path, dangled her feet from the tower while breathing in bliss and exhaling bothersome worries.
The chill of the air nipped her cheeks like childish pecks.
Her soul was at a state of calm, a break over her exhilarating life, both formal and ccarefree, and problematic conflicts. All the while, she was with her best friend, this man.
He too relaxed under the night sky.
His hyper heart gradually receded into a slow beat.
Closing his eyes, he welcomed the motherly rocking of the midnight breeze.

"Don't they look enchanting?"

He lazily peered over. "Whatever do you mean, M'lady?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The woman extended her hand outwards towards the atmosphere as if she could touch that mysteries that lay in them. "The stars."

"Well," he pondered, "Not as much as your striking beauty."

The lady scoffed and jokingly slapped his arm.
She bore into his eyes, telling them to see clearly before gazing back into the eternal universe.

"My mother always told me, like any other, that if you wish on one, they'll come true. People think it's silly," she chuckled, "But I honestly believe she is right."

"Really?" He quirked. "I never knew you believed in something so childish."
He poked his partner in the rib.
"Those are myths made to make human have false hope."
Breathing in the night air he sighed,
"They are just elegant, cheap decorations in the beauty of the night."

She raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
"How so?" She added,
"You usually would enjoy these kinds of insight."

A shivering feeling of the bitter cold of the past settled upon them.
The charisma in the playful man's eyes hardened into regret.
"Well, M'lady, when reality smacks you in the face," he spat at the air, as if he could insult the imaginary being he hated so,
"You realize there is nothing pure and lovely in the world."

He raked his hair with his hand to calm himself from the tension of a long-locked secret threatening to open up.
"They're up there for centuries burning bright for the galaxy around them, always sacrificing,"
He traces a floating leave before grabbing and crumbling it,
"Yet, they explode and die like every life that appeared on this earth." He concluded, looking down at the illuminated city below his feet.

The man felt a hand on his shoulder,
light and graceful,
take hold and a finger pointing his chin up and then
at the dizzying lights above.

"That may be," she started,
"But with every death, there comes a new life,"
she smiled softly at him, "A new destiny."

Dumbfounded, the feline laughed quietly,
amazed on how his beloved always had a argument against his claims.
"Alas, I can't oppose to that statement. Well played, Ladybug."

He laid down on his back and exhaled a thoughtful sigh.
He went to take rest until he sensed fingers combing through his golden locks.
It shocked him to see the woman he always pitifully longed for show a bit of affection. He gazed at her with wide eyes.
Watchfully, he observed every detail of her petite face and
large, wonderful eyes.
They were like the night sky itself.
Ah, he mused to himself, The reason to her hope must lay in there.

As such ideas came in to his head, the woman was trying to build one herself on how her usually energetic partner can think up of something so,
so dead and draining.
She twirled a curl of his hair, fussing why she couldn't have hair like that.
Suddenly, fingers foreign to her body slipped through hers.
The teen immediately looked at the culprit,
but he was busy idly taking in the way her hands fit into his and
the spectators above in the heavens.

"You know," he murmured before she could react anymore to his actions,
"I used to have whimsical theories about the stars."
He chortled, amusing himself that he ever used be so fantasy-consumed.
"I believed that every star represented a person.
"Every second," he took a more serious tone,
"A star would take its leave.
Everything must die or disappear one day, as said before. Yet, a new would be born.
A flicker of hope for humankind."
He closed his eyes and admitted to his lady,
"I always wondered my star was."

"Then," he sobered once more,
"I realized I was wrong as time came to me and
greeted me to life."

"Well," the woman whispered lovingly,
wanting her words to have a meaning to them, to him,
"What if you were right all along?
Don't abandon and doubt that idea.
It's something that should be common knowledge."

Before thinking of the consequences, she gave planted her lips upon his forehead, making him almost frozen in surprise.
She rested her cheek against her and her partner's interlocked hands.
"I will be your star."

For the first time, the man let himself have faith in something so fairytale-like.
He kissed the back of their hands and blissfully breathed,
"It is a pure honor, M'lady."

With that, the celestial dome above seemed to glow brighter,
approving of their newfound role to play.
When was the last time I posted, eh? Well, I hope you've enjoyed this story. It was originally a fan fiction, so I'm sorry if it is a little repetitive on the "man" and "woman". You can ask any questions about the story in the comments below and anything you think that would help improve or what is best. Thank you!
  May 2017 Dead Account
"For a moment,"
Said their lips,
Warm, but fleeting

"It's okay,"
Said the rain,
Falling again

"I missed you,"
Said your bed,
Empty and tired

"Not today,"
Said the night,
Long and dull

"Maybe next time,"
Said the morning,
Sleepy and still

"Just wait,"
Said the week,
Dragging on

"Just breathe,"
Said the sidewalk,
Every day

"You're fine,"
Said the wind,
Colder than them

"I need you,"
Said your heart,
Resigned and dry

Said your lips,
Dead Account May 2017
They say that when you grow up,
The world will be in your hands.
Yet, small phalanges cannot affect such diversity,

The thought is comforting,
However, disagreement tugs me.
This simple body part
Functions in ways that could
Destroy or ****.

Fingers dance upon
Passionate melodies
Or provide
Soothing caresses
Assuring you that you are in peace.

But some are stained crimson
With marks of sin.

Callused, rough, and
Ignorant about a
Tender touch.

Nimble and agile, they create
Illusions the human eye
Cannot follow,
Letting them have freedom to
Manipulate and control
Weak minds.

Yet they also spring delight in
Children's eyes.
Their imagination beholds
Tales of magic and fairytales with each
Flick of the wrist.

When you're in a void,
Consumed by your thoughts, just
Doesn't a spark light a
Fire of desperate hope
For a savior to pull you out?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Human hands hold frail things with
Care or recklessness.

Human hands  share
Fear or love.

Human hands display
Favor or hatred.

Take my two cents and tread carefully.
The globe is but fragile glass

*Entrusted in your hands.
  May 2017 Dead Account
“My heart is so small
it's almost invisible.
How can You place
such big sorrows in it?"
"Look," he answered,
"your eyes are even smaller,
yet they behold the world."

~ Rumi
Dead Account May 2017
Honey, it's been a long time
Since love's been out of sight.
Been a while since the time there were a thousand fights
For every tear cried.
Internal confliction
Temptations and addictions,
A never-ending chain,
But like a bullet shot through my brain.
Claims of righteous,
The spark inside us;
I don't know if it's enough.
Thoughts of giving up.
Got to erase them
So there's hope to win,
Got to erase them
So there's hope that I might see you again.

Remember the last words that we said;
Take them when you're dead.
Close your eyes forevermore;
Let your neck sink into the end of a sword.

When heaven falls and
Hell arises,
When we question who'll and
Who'll die,
Will you still be there by my side?
Will you still be there for me to hold tight
In the war of the blind?

Blow away dandelion wishes,
Burn away childhood bliss.
Sever bonds and ties
With those who lied about caring for your life.
Finding trust
Within a pile of dust.
Gambling with fate and
Flirting with death.
Children scream and the
Birds weep.
Yearning for mother to
Rock me to sleep.

Illicit love,
Clandestine dreams,
Pupilless eyes,
Deceased lives,
Can you differentiate truth from lie?

Defected minds,
Straightjackets aline
Slip your hands in the garment like you
Slip your hands in mine.
Sad to say, but it's just a distraction, just a delay
From the inevitable change.
Can't escape the pain;
However, I'm hoping after the rain
There'll be the tranquil sun.
Will I touch it if I run?
I really need it right now, I'm feeling cold.
I just wanna go back home.

But all that's left is ashes with
Smoked-filled madness.
I'm getting ready to stop holding on.

When heaven falls and
Hell arises,
When we question who'll and
Who'll die,
Will you still be there by my side?
Will you still be there for me to hold tight
In the war of the blind?

I'm getting a little desperate
I'm someone you shouldn't mess with.
It's time to rebel.
I don't know how much longer I'll keep quiet
But I need to break this spell.

Since birth, we've been gagged and blinded.
(Psychological void)
Bounded by lies and devil's voice.
(Kneeling down to pray)
Beautiful petals wasted to decay.
(Thrown-out potential)
Let's test the protection of the Human Rights,
Let's get experimental.

If society's shadow is my unjust god,
Then my position must be a fallen angel
Because it hurts to proclaims false faith
If I'm able.

Go on, shoot, if you're sure that's where your
Beliefs lie,
But my spirit will wander,
Never letting these unanswered questions die, like

When heaven falls and
Hell arises,
When we question who'll and
Who'll die,
Will you still be there by my side?
Will you still be there for me to hold tight
In the war of the blind?

When heaven falls and
Hell arises,
When we question who'll and
Who'll die,
Will you still be there by my side?
Will you still be there for me to hold tight
In the war of the blind?

When heaven falls and
Hell arises,
When we question who'll and
Who'll die,
Will you still be there by my side?
Will you still be there for me to hold tight
In the war of the blind?

Send me a blessing, love;
Protection from temptations.
Praying peace will come
I just need to be patient.

Toss aside the fragile mask that
Hides naive eyes.
Can you see the light?

Can you see me now?
Can you see me now?
Can you see me now?
Can you see me now?
The order of rap and vocal is very complex, so here is a guide to have an idea of the original thought (Instruction for every stanza): Rap, vocal, vocal, vocal, rap, rap, rap, vocal, vocal, rap (vocal in parentheses), rap, rap, vocal 'till the end.
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