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Without sender Oct 2016
If I were to live, truly live, I'd passionately comply to
Acknowledge every flower in my path, with their torns or not;
Appreciate their simplicity and beauty that drips uncontrollably;
And admire all their fine details: From the smell that fills me till I suffocate,
To their color that infatuates me,
And gently brushes my soul,
Leaving me oh so entangled
In so much beauty, in so much perfection.
Without sender Sep 2016
The entire room swirls violently,
My eyes follow accordingly: around and around,
They're not sound from all this hounding and, also,
My mind is ragged; torn apart from reality;
It's all a blur from which,
I find myself nauseous in my bed.

Nauseous:
Intoxicated by all the ingested foulness,
Which mauls my stomach without mercy,
For the shy prey;
It'll ravage all that peacefully opposes.
Now, stabbed by roses they'll be; and bleed they shall.

Puckered lips, dry mouth;
The halls are clear for the blitz to come,
Imposing, it hums a dreaded melody,
Referencing the glum future that awaits.

Meltdown:
Everything is on a breakdown;
The swirls become whirlpools, ******* my consciousness out;
The assault from inside runs rampant;
The down has sung, I'd say, and
I'm feeling nauseous, and it's no wonder why:
I swam too much in rotten waters, and they drowned me whole.

And now,
In a hole I'm perishing,
Vomiting and twirling impetuously,
Suffering eternally from all this disgusting uglyness.
This goes against my usual style quite a lot, so I guess that it's rather raw; but I wanted to try doing something different, and I'm quite satisfied with the finished product  :) Hope you enjoy it.
Without sender Aug 2016
Non-existence,
Plagues my soul,
And my mind seems dead.
Without sender Aug 2016
It?
Am I no longer who I was?
          Inhaled hope; exhaled boredom,
             Stood high, yet glass's faith,
               Awaited me in the bottom.
          Now, unrecognizable, subdued.
            Stripped of my liberty from It.

               If I ever was freed from It:
                   The blue monotony.
         But, sadly, tick-tock the clock went.
                 And it's gone.. for now.
Without sender Jun 2016
During the storm, the drops of rain rage down unto the ground in a barrage of catharsis, discharging all the sadness retained and giving it a new perspective: It's something beautiful.

All the thunder that roared through the storm, and the lightning that terrified in those moments of calmness, they're now different.

After the downpour of tears throughout our being, we can learn something beautiful about sadness: It helps.

It allows us to reflect on our life and each of its moments (good or bad); it allows us to better understand ourselves when the world falls; and teaches us that true beauty lies within understanding.
Without sender Jun 2016
Admire the simple;
Appreciate the absurd;
  And rejoice in thinking.

— The End —