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#48
I hate love lives
But I don't hate life
I just don't think I could get it right in 8 lives
Each one with 8 wives
That's 64 beautiful women
Thoroughly explored I couldn't find love in em

I relish in hate right...
But I don't hate life
I just can't help but see the stigma that you're stained by
Slithering worthless serpents working circles and sinning
I heard their hymns and verse but couldn't find love in em

I play to their hate right..
But they don't hate life
They're just vulnerable to the flames Nihilists lay by
Sleeping soundly certain that there was no divine venom
Pious verses were immersive yet rehearsed I couldn't find love in em.

It's subjective what's right
But I don't hate life
I just can't shape my morals and at the same time,
Sit in oblong boxes and keep my thoughts within em
I read your laws, codes, and odes but couldn't find love in em
#47
You cannot oppose decadency then tell me nothing is sacred
You cannot tell me I'm too sensitive then barrage me with hatred
You cannot preach guidance if your moral compass is latent
And act so cavalier while advocating patience

You cannot tell me you love Jesus and throw his teachings in a forge
Recast them in the flames to a weapon for your scourge
You cannot read me scripture and cast the exile aside
For the blessed are the weak but not the weak of mind
Get your poetry in line
Is it a sonnet? Does it rhyme?
Can you keep the proper time?
Does it bounce in your head off the walls of your mind?

Is it deeper than I'm seeing?
Tell me, what's its obscure meaning?
Is it simply whimsical?
Use your words like a maple tap, plunge the sharp end into you

...Well let me tell you silly idiot, silly critic, you're insidious!
You're not fit to critique what is pure and true and intimate
So tell me my dear patron, what do you construe?
When you dig for deeper truths, topical ones elude
#45
How can you be thankful with depression?
Constant combat with melancholy and mustering gratitude is regression
I eat,
Like a God forsaken heathen
Filling up the void where the darkness starts to creep in
I drink,
The devil's elixir lights my soul up
So when I'm feeling nothing I feel passion and I hold up
I smoke,
Burn your lungs enjoy your eminent demise
My brain is in revolt so this rabel has to fry
I read,
Words that scream from bindings
In hopes that I can build some peace of mind with my findings
I write
Because you probably feel it too
And when your afflictions grip I hope that it could see you through
The unvoiced and unacknowledged fear of being broken
On the verge, if we focus we can see it when we’re hopeless
Every single soul knows this

But when we teach our life lessons it always goes unspoken
We’ll get there when we get there let’s just have peace for the moment
Fracture a piece of the moment

Our contentment is fleeting
Shake the grips of your vices, where they’re biting you're bleeding
A stable mind depleting, your convictions are receding

Floating in a gentle haze
Where all you hear is true
You’ve widdled yourself to nothing, so what could you rebuke?
Spewing seed and venom, life and death, **** and loathing, we were Marc Antony and Cleopatra
A serpent suicide and ***, poisoned ******* and choking, then we patiently awaited our rapture

When I died I watched you follow, you said "my love I will join you soon."
From your effigy, a malignant magnetic energy floated above the room
We were toxic and intoxicated, dead but full of life
Darkness ensued all but a narrow slit, brimming with shimmering light

I grew to a boy then a man scolded by harsher truths
And then I met you, my Egyptian Queen, so beauteous and full of youth
You asked me for a cigarette, I only had a joint
We smoked and spoke like Nihilists and debated "What's the point?"

For years our love grew again, one day you said to me:
"The vanguard is at the gate and the walls are under siege"
But your battles were waged with ****** not Egypt's enemies
My response rang through history with war-torn lover's pleas

Maybe these lives were insufferable, maybe I hide from the truth
That my only respite was that every night I was coming home to you
Our apartment was just too quiet, soundless and without sentiment
Nothing remained of our candle but spilt wax and the scent of it
The bathroom door was locked, "Open the door, Let me in!"
Under the bathroom's flourescent lights that serpent bit again
My dear friend,

There's no answer in those bottles
Or those false bravados
There's truth in cliche mottos
But those answers are hollow
Unlike those pills you swallow
Because you're chronically suicidal
With no contrary to guide you
And no lover to confide to
So you'll just cram it all in a note in the hotel room they find you
Now you're only living through all the strangers you were kind to
The family that stood beside you
The **** you dragged their mind through
The lovers you had lied to
The crafts that you had fine tuned
The dark past behind you
And whatever state your mind looms now

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
M. Whit
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