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The two years that you’ve known me, have made up the decade’s end ,
Of ten years in which I’ve faught to skip
Obsessed with my past’s relationship-
To retain the hope, know dobtlessness’s equipped
To embrace thyself, and to be true
When we begin to lose our grip,
Sketching the silhouetted shadow’s tip,

I'll leave here.
   I leave behind.
        I'll leave today-

& wont return.

You know these things about who I am, that no one else might understand
From how I think and feel and speak,
To fears that make me truly weak,
My disordered mind and damaged bones,
How the musical remedy is felt in its tone.

But to give up and in uncertainty's dismay, not to forget or out loud to say- these words which are, in a way, a goodbye; are immortalized here and then within the minds eye:

There is much for you to thank- and much more to seek forgiveness for..
Yet for me, these notions remain the blank
The words like gratitude, you guise *******,
As if I haven't heard it before-
All the cop outs, shifting blame,
While real powers? Its stored in pain.
Tho might say thay you feel the same
You've never known what we've to gain.
Us tortured youths, from diamond minds
Extrapolate, whatever, we may find
Worthile exchanging for our time.
Something about All I've absorbed
Is why your kiss is now abhorred
All I've precieved against my will
Ive done so by running up that hill.
As if I could make a deal with God,
and get him to change our places-
I'd be running up that road
Running
Running up that building

With no problems.
On the first day of the fifth month,
day one of the second third- the first quarter, of the start of the third mellinieum.

Still, I dwell here, thinking back and fourth- reflecting on all the experience.
This is my  final creation,
 beneath this ceiling,
Within these walls,
with this recording of the soul,
curated and confessed privately for,
The few things that I need you to know, are to be documented here

From thought to word and now digital mark,
the instinct of reason and rhyme-
how one’s truth informs each headless heart,
While another's, every heartless mind.
The two years that you’ve known me, have made up the decade’s end ,
the ten years in which I’ve faught to skip
over me & my past’s relationship-
To retain the hope,
Doubtlessness’s equipped,
to embrace me as I lose the grip, that,
Just like the silhouetted shadow’s tip,
I leave here.
   I leave behind.
        I leave

& wont return.

You know things about who I am, that no one else might understand
From how I think and feel and speak,
To fears that make me truly weak,
My disordered mind and damaged bones,
How the music might hold me, secure in its tones....
But to give up and in uncertainty's dismay, not to forget or out loud to say- these words which are, in a way, a goodbye; immortalized here and then within the minds eye, they enter your fortress's cerebral,  citadel,
And despite all we are, still achieve our best hell (its a good life)....

Evil me and good for you,
With kindness, extrapolate
My patient virtues.
free verse letter to Dr. Graff
What would you like? Was the question I asked
To the person lying in what once was my past
Can it potentially, ever last?
I'll dictate instead of typing This fast

An easier way to communicate to
The thoughts and the Feelings that make up virtue
I'm saying this here for me and for you
though you've no idea, not even a clue
what exactly I'm looking at when my eyes pierce on through

Your face is guna tell me what ur mouth can't say
N I hope you figure your **** out someday.
Free association free verse train of thought, inspired by done in Ariel's Bud.
Heavy Hearted Apr 16
Happy birthday- its what they'll say
With voices which typed words delay
Where on your behalf today, they'll wish
Simply for your happiness

A wish to me, is like the Horizon
An imaginary line of undefined potential,
Forever fading when approached.
With its endless opportunity preceding the powerless thrill of pursuit-
Forever fading,
we approach.

When Happiness is fleeting
as all emotions are,
The golden light of  this April's dawn-
Not silhouetted, scars.
After the soul's darkest night
Drifts into it's deepest blue,
nightmarish, waking dream's reveal
relentlessly, nothing new.
Oh how the saying makes me sick
And excuses, there are not
Devicive taunting, hate's mimic
Word's we weaponized from thought.
So, a new turn of phrase,
a saying born within the dark;
Is whispered to myself, alone,
                                                    A Sky-cyphers
Scribbled, trailing mark.
For the first and only time,
Not of me but you
These writing's wordings weave a web,
of synthesized virtue.
To be spoken allowed to oneself,
read, written or thought,
Of each word that's now misused- their purposes forgot.
examined, explained, investigated my life
As if speech were the blade, written words are the knife.

all of the meaning and every moral tethers to our mortal coil,
Life and it's significance-
A product of its transience.

The concept of fate & of destiny, too
Both insinuate journey, the movement through
But where is it- We're going to?
Home, its depths, are dreams of blue.
Heavy Hearted Mar 15
From the first awakening to the sighted's sleepless death-

We're bent under times unbearable weight, between these events two,

I wont lose something beneath heaven's breath, worse,

Than the reluctant, peculiar, perfection of you.
Left my body so it seems
Heavy Hearted Mar 13
Who we are now being the toll taken,

On behalf of each moment we relapse- the mind's Choir,

Transformations, now;  until we cease to be

In position's symptomatic with abandon desire .

From the first awakening to the sighted's sleepless death-

We're bent under times unbearable weight, between each of the two,

I wont lose something beneath heaven's breath, worse,

Than the reluctant, peculiar, perfection of you.
first writing of the new year, inspired after reading Sara Teasdale's ' Strange Victory' .
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