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Alan JustATG Nov 2017
Alone I wander midnight pathways that never lead to sleep,
This darkness highlights all I fear, and secrets it can keep,
In the distance I can hear the past, perhaps a quiet weep,
A chill has settled over me, into my bones to seep,
Was it I that gave this weep,
This weep that steals my sleep,
My need to sleep.

The fire’s death from licking flames, still glowing embers burn,
I know a sleep is needed, but from this wake I can’t adjourn
Then a single scratch upon my door, as the handle clicks a turn,
I’m frozen still, like winters pond, as my innards twist to churn,
My gaze I cannot turn,
This fear becomes a burn,
My need to run

A shadow glides in slowly, draped in robe with hooded face,
A scent I half remember, seems to engulf this evil wraith,
My guest floats ever closer and my heart picks up its pace,
Its rotting hand is reaching, I must evade its cold embrace,
I’ve no desire to see this face
For fear I can’t erase,
Erase this face,

This creature leans in closer as I taste its  putrid smell,
Once again a scent familiar, but from whence, I cannot tell,
From deep within my stomach a fear filled bile begins to swell,
It whispers “I’m memories of your past loves, here to take you back to hell.”
The cast of nightmares spell
Thoughts I dare not tell
Now fresh from hell
Alan JustATG Nov 2017
My imperfections are as apparent as my broken bones.
Hidden perfectly beneath an emotional exoskeleton. Built over many years from many fears and thunderous words.
Of course I’ll try to save you, and probably ruin you by trying. But try I will.
I get so ******* tired of hearing about love. We’re all just running around our own little bubbles, describing what we see inside, not caring what’s outside.
So before you cast my words into the abyss with all the other noets, just remember.
Fallen Angels have wings too,
They’re just damaged from the fall.
Alan JustATG Nov 2017
Just short of the Moon

Think back sweetheart, to those awkward first glances
Whispering lust and taken last chances
Deciding if this was to be what romance is

Yes, there were cuts and some open sores,
Echoing insults and loud banging doors,
Then shattering glass adorning the floors,

But then, when the love, the REAL had begun,
Nothing could describe this love we'd become,
We were playing with hearts that we'd already won,

Both soaring so high in our own glass balloon,
Alas, we never quite made it to the moon,
Why did forever have to end so soon.
Alan JustATG Nov 2017
The smell of Autumn soil always digs a grave for me, with every cold breath drawing me back.
I’m just a spec of blue in this sea of amber and gold decay,
So out of place, desiring to sink and rot quietly, comfortably, becoming everything with nothing.

I belong here, and yet I cannot stay.
This warm blooded, cold breathing dragon bellows steam into the morning.
I close my eyes to the sun, but still she blinds me.
I am heavy with burden, fighting not to fall under this weight.
Just another broken heart,
Trying so **** hard not to fall apart.
Alan JustATG Oct 2017
Your memories had an aftertaste of codeine and old books.
They were cleverly masking the splinters festering beneath my fingernails.
Filling themselves out with false food, bloating my dreams.

The story never delicately unfolded. Rather, it was launched at my face, unexpectedly one night, by a fat angel.
I felt the shovel hit before I saw it coming. It was cloaked in golden hair and white teeth.

As the images shattered and slivers of cotton and green glass sliced my emotions, I was left with the type of clarity only a two day hangover can offer.
Not all birds can fly.
Not all doves are white.

And of all the monsters I've known,
Love is the most beautiful.
Alan JustATG Oct 2017
All this land between us,
Seems out of place and strange, it isn't right,
No tender touch, or kisses soft,
In the darkness of another empty night.

We shouldn't be apart,
We share the same soul you and I,
But there's nothing to be done,
But count the days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds, slowly ticking by,

A sallow moon glows down on me,
As I look up to his empty face,
Wondering if you see him too,
As you lie there in your lonely distant place,

I blow a kiss at this sallow moon,
And think of all the times I've shared with you,
Hoping you might glance up,
Catch the kiss, and think of those times too
Alan JustATG Oct 2017
I’m tired of living this tired way
I’m tired of being too tired to play
I’m tired of alway being the man that’s grey
I’m tired of not saying what I need to say
I’m tired of having to survive another day
I’m tired of always being the one to pay
I’m tired of being just okay, okay

I’m tired of these long nights
I’m tired of these tiring non stop flights
I’m tired of the scribbles and weak writes
I’m tired of fighting other people’s fights
I’m tired of climbing these never ending heights
I’m tired of not making the wrongs rights
I’m tired of these same sights


I’m tired of being nowhere on my own
I’m tired of being a voice on the end of the phone
I’m tired to the bone
I’m tired of being the great unknown
I’m tired of being the last to be shown
I’m tired of sitting on this dark throne
I’m tired of only catching what I’m thrown
I’m tired of carrying this tomb stone
I’m tired of hearing it groan and moan

I’m tired and I’m running alone
I’m tired, but I’m running for home
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