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It never ceases to amaze me how you can be both a blessing and a curse.
Catalyzing the flourish of a relationship then infecting it with a slow killing cancer.

I'm sure it amuses you, building someones endorphins before crushing them when you feel they've experienced enough to be addicted and beg you for more.

Constantly blitzing forward.
Incapable of taking a step back despite how much I plead.  
Like some linear cellphone game; but instead of restarting when I can’t jump over, you phase through the obstacle, forcing me continue at your pace whilst tending to my wounds.

And once they’ve finally healed and I become capable of keeping up with you, you introduce a larger obstacle - and I’m ****** again.

Are you angry at how you can't move backwards? Is that why you're always ******* with me? Or are you able to, but savour the taste of my tears when I cry for you to do so? Or is it because you feel incarcerated by your immortality and have found that nothing else satisfies you?

You’ve made me realise that happiness is an illusion.
I shouldn't be such a pessimist at 17.
Time, you *******.
The wind will howl
at our agonizing fall,
The tides will lash at
their confinements;
and suddenly, inevitably
*we will be torn apart
If I ever catch myself criticizing something I don’t like about myself, that is neither a life threatening nor a destructive observation, I have to question my own thoughts and ask if this judgment is truth, or coming from a place of insecurity. If insecurity is the reason, which most times it is, I step out from underneath that microscope in which I stood, and walk into the light of reality. I realize that my purpose in life is not to analyze and dissection who I am, or even other people.

If we can shift our thinking, we can change our feelings. Our feelings control how we view the world and ourselves. Perception has power; it cradles both thinking and feelings.
decapitation
mutilation

it's always the bubbly girls who smile

****** knives
violent cries

it's always the bubbly girls who smile

angry hate
murderous fate

it's always the bubbly girls who smile

final expression
free from possession

*it's always the bubbly girls who smile
Don't ask. Inspired by class discussion today.
I am a
broken vase,
this is my face.

Pure glass-- frozen shut.
Do not touch me--
or I will cut.
Dead thoughts feed this Lilly, ever drinking
As she picked them free to wear upon herself.

She smelt the aroma of a dead mans thoughts,
Intoxicating was death to her every self.

Gazing upon this jar of silent looks eyes forever
Closed, to open nevermore life is restrained.

This wasn't the only flower she was to grow,
All would have the scent of deathly thoughts.

Each will drink upon a suspended moment of
Muteness, only the flowers would speak with scent.

Come to this place of the silent reflection, entice
Oneself with the scent of a dead ones thoughts.
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