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I'm too tired and deflated
To rise up elated will be belated
Until the sorrow passes through

There are many levels
of healing properly
For this I will take
the Time to do.

Thank You
Healing Trauma takes Time
Honor the Pain properly and it too shall pass through :)
Beware: a cautionary tale~*

Is this for you a madness true?
We must find out, do not kick or shout~
Let's let the madness descend....

Realer than the realest scream shrieking into your left and out your right.
It begins quite innocent, your mind's descent still lowly you go in the acrid stench.
Your sensitivities perk and sizzle then pummel down to a grizzly pulp.
Your eyes begin to cry a milky film, a sick white goo for which to see through as objects appear like silhouettes.
Outlines are faceless, places are nameless ~
a ghastly ghostly hollow view.

The horror begins to penetrate your skin, tightens around your brittle spine ~ magnetizing your jello brain, your texture has now become insane. Yet lower and lower you let yourself go, you've left behind everything that you know and crept in its place a circus freak show.

You surely would scream for help but the echoes are piercing your hollow shell in which you dwell grows a thickly and prickly personal hell ~ hardens to form your prison.

This story is cautionary, be very weary and please do not go to this lowly low.
It's not so enticing but rather its frightening now that you know how this gruesome ride goes.

All beware and please take care.
her cerise lips invited
him to partake of a kiss
with the spark now ignited
their smooch did sizzle
She wrote a sonnet but she got it wrong
Proper syllable count her lines ne'er had
Twas a shocking sight really rather bad
Her shoddy work should have been given the gong
She put it out there for all to peruse
The skilled sonnet writers had a look
Her display they rated as verily crook
The format of it did of her confuse
She had not a deft quill like the bard Bill
Her specimen would have disgusted him
Particular twas he about his form
She produced a sonnet which didn't thrill
Its appearance twas definitely grim
Her syllable structure twas not uniform
I am not perfect
Though I strive to be.

Sorry.
It's not at home..
Not at church...

It's with music
I deserve better than this, don't I?

All I'm asking....

*Is for someone to love me back
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