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You are like a ghost,
Haunting me, waking, dreaming,
****, woman, It is you that makes my heart,
go beating off into the wilds,
randomly, fleeting,
Screeching, and into my gut,
where the butterflies are singing,
I can't get you out, of my blood,
my worthless pulse that wont stop beating,
Its discreet and it makes me think,
If I had it over again, I wouldn't be leaving,
Not ever, not if you were cutting my very
Organs our from under my being,
Till I bled out and died, with your eyes on mine,
Cuz I've left you a thousand times, scared of what,
You could be reading, into my scars, and my flaws,
My ticks, and my insecurities, they talk,
Like little green men to crazy men,
Oh I'm insane and my depression is carrying me therein,
And no death is gruesome enough to be worse than,
A life alone, without you in it,
Its melodramtic, I know,
I have no one to confide upon so,
I'll tell it all to my pen,
Worthless strokes, full of worthless thoughts,
To convey meaningless feelings,
Oh insanity, thou art the love I feel,
I'd give it all up, oh I'd sell my soul,
I'd let loose my demons, and I'd carry your hell,
I'd fight god himself, I'd cry in public,
Just end it all, stop flaunting your sickeningly
Pretty face, your gorgeous smile, your pretty brown eyes,
That *** that are all my hands remember,
The fear I felt then as if I was in the presence of the 8th world wonder,
I can't get it out, not when your here, and I look so weak,
If I send you out, and I think twice in the mirror,
The closer you get, maybe one day then,
I'll get one more chance, And,
I wont lose you, Again.
 Oct 2014 Hollow Steve
farahD
Pain is unbearable,
It makes us,
Harsh or kind,
Tough or tender,
Better or worst.

Yet the decision,
Totally up to you.
Gauging the difference
Between what is real
And what is faux
It's hard to tell anymore
Even people are fake
With feigned interest
They smile and pretend
To be your friend
A dangerous world
Living amongst all these fakes
Acting ability they do not lack
Where do you run to
When no one has your back
Look past the outer shell
To see what lies within
A heaven or hell
A friend
Or enemy
Hiding behind a mask
The ability to see what is true
Shouldn't be such a task
Is it acceptable to **** anyone and everyone you want,
Be mysteriously exposed in your photographs,
Act carelessly with people and friends drunk and drugged and dicked out of your mind,
Forget the hurtful and blissful past for a reputation,
Exist in a way the girl you were never thought you could be the girl you are,
Because you’re in your 20s?

You remind me of the characters Greta Gerwig plays in some of her films,
But not Gerwig herself,
Although you do look an awful like her Hispanic version if there was one;
I guess that’s you.

I bet when I was placing the edge of the razorblade against my wrist,
You were getting penetrated and plowed by a **** between the legs.

Your innocence was smothered by your lust and
Our history got erased by your fears and flaws.

I just wanted you,
But then again, everyone already had you,
And it was not my fault;
It was your choice.
I’m a failed musician
Broken
On the side of the street
Against the curb
Just like my guitar
And its useless strings.
At least, I feel I still exist.

I’m a monotonous teacher
Depressed
In a silent, spacious classroom
Behind a podium
Just like my lecture
And its empty words.
At least, I feel I still exist.

I’m a desperate ***
Insane
In a smelly, cold alleyway
Between scraped Dumpsters
Just like my self-made house
And its ***** bed.
At least, I feel I still exist.

I’m a trapped housewife
Alone
In a deteriorating home
Beside unchanged relatives
Just like my furniture
And its absurd point.
At least, I feel I still exist.

I’m a bored adventurer
Hopeless
Out somewhere upon the sea
On this old, worn sailboat
Just like my journey
And its careless end.
At least, I feel I still exist.

I’m a dead poet
Thoughtless
In my lonely, dim room
At my unstable desk
Just like my manuscript
And its blank pages.
At least, I feel I still exist.

Exist, exist, exist!
Through liberty or slavery,
Through love or hate,
Through energy or matter,
Through life or death,
Like Whitman or me.
Just exist for your legacy!
 Oct 2014 Hollow Steve
farahD
Joy
 Oct 2014 Hollow Steve
farahD
Joy
After all these years,
I still explore my mind,
And,
Get lost with my heart.

It's a joy.
Symmetrical duplication,
Sphere stained with plasma,
Planet stitched by scars.

Typical introduction,
Sport tossed down for clone,
World thrown curved to teach.

Negligent abandonment,
Phase grown out of claim,
Life passed short in bloom.

I miss the inventive, lost boy who used to live with all of his innocent, free friends playing in Neverland.
My existence hunches on the surge of homeostasis,
Peeking through botany and paralyzed life.
These skeletons are coated with flesh, fluid, and cells,
An integument the size of my being in spitting distance,
Admitting natural flaws with debeaked drains and
Demonstrating actual emotion with rearranging face.
Narrow wings without sails are flapping noodled,
Desperately escaping living reality into paradise
In the black eyes which can travel with no hesitation,
Development always unfulfilled at clipped appendages.
An ordinary watcher devours the ghost souls in limbo;

Gravity      allows a wallflower               to soar away                         through                                              diverse emptiness.
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