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There lives in this life, a certain life. A life in which one shivers not from the cold, but from the mist. A mist that dances laughingly around the world, a world in which cigarettes planted for the earth, become refuge for the travelers paying obeisance for fresh air.
1.24.17

I edited, and ****** this poem up, give me a minute,
or maybe it'll just be more ****** up.
Your thistle bush affections,
Vibrant feathers for the bait.
Carried by my sock,
And buried miles away.
I feel not like I've closed a chapter, but that I've ended the book. One that may have no sequel, one where a new book, entirely separate, is yet to know it's opening moment.
I feel my spirit drift to yours,
It's not exactly a good thing, is it?
Do we know,
What it was,
All my colours,
And all of yours,
A blur,
A brown,
A morose.
Been writing more on my phone and doing more songwriting, haven't posted in awhile, enjoy!
She's a model of imperfections,
Flaws fall on her face in ways that define grace,
She's a goddess without direction.
Her words encourage and lace dreams to a place you can reach if you just believed.
Her upper lip juts out a little too far so her teeth can clink yours in toast to good times when you kiss.
She's a little too short only so you can sweep her off her feet with a little more ease.
Older poem
You're somewhere between a sneeze and an ******.
A breath of fresh air, and clear nostrils after you've been sick.
The sunrise, and it's set.
You are bright mornings, and the full moon whilst blanketed by Venus, Mars, and all their siblings.
Somewhere linking here and there, I've found you.
Between love and hate, I keep you.
Did I leave, Or had you left?
I wonder how you remain and yet, never stayed.
Among my expectations and disappointments, I'm empty and full.
Full of imaginings, empty of chances.
Full of love, and grief,
Empty of myself.
Taken by time,
And her elegant thief.
This kinda ***** and says nothing,(?) but I also ******* like it so. W.e
Sometimes I think to myself,
Ah!
The World's better off without me.
And then I think to myself again,
Ah!
I'm better off drunk.
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