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Dilapidated. Dust seethes
within my lungs.
Gasping
for air, my hands
reach out to grab hold
of a better world.
Fading and old - broken
light tears me apart
for days.
Revealed rust,
dark eyes,
decrepit limbs.
Tumbling.
I am worn, weary,
filled with dust.
Thick, ugly dust,
choking me,
drowning me,
destroying me.
~~ Amathophobia, the fear of dust. ~~
If loyalty is not given freely,
it is not given at all.

If you force us to show respect
than you never had it to begin with.

If we are bribed to show you
how much we love you,
than we wont be loving you at all.
Be still
Understand that you are filled with sensations that your body holds repressed
vibrations
Vibrations from glances
The touch of past lovers
Hugs from child hood friends
Even the hand of someone you can't quite name
You are a book held with stories
Conversations kept secret
Emotions from a deafening silence
Watching all you adore
Burn passionately in the wind
The meeting of another's soul
Welcoming yours for the first time in open arms
Smiling violently against all that is bad
You are loved
Even in the depths of the darkest times
Even then
You have a story so rich
You mustn't let it end now
You have places to paint
Words to play like a trumpet blaring towards the sky
Humans to share moments with
Skylines to stare in awe at
Experiences that keep your heart racing
A building ledge to sit on while you view the buzzing streets below you
You have insignificant days to live to remember why you are alive
Characters both antagonists and protagonists to build pathways with
and part like rivers to oceans
You are life
And you have a story to continue writing
Despite all the wars in your mind telling you to end it now
Because we each are novelists in our own right.
And I need you to write.
And never ever stop.
You have won battles
Do not let your victory dance get swept under the rug
Use it as gas to ignite the flame
Lighting your way
Allowing you to recognize
You were never alone all this time
I'm a willing prey
You can devour anytime
I'm weak and old in love
I got dazzled by glittering promise of it
I'm nowhere
You can easily find
But I'm afraid
Behind my weakness and willingness to give out love were somethings I couldn't keep.
I'm chaotic
A storm a teacup can't contain
A willing prey that prosaic predator won't catch
I'm difficult.
Odd.
Peculiar.
And only peculiar of my same will understood me
People like you won't like the way I think
Perhaps you wouldn't want to know what I'm thinking
I'm telling you if you're going to love me, then prepare yourself to a nightmare
For I'm a collection of it
Of dismantled almost
Of misunderstood histories
Of odds and ends
And on all of those is where my demons hide.
Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my ***** raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am ****’d on earth!
Sweet steel! come forth from our your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the ****** dart,
My last—my only friend!
I had a dream once Like a parasite hope drilled into me infecting everything I did my dreams held my head high the self doubt in myself my worst enemy sadness  beheaded me before I had a foundation for the life I envisioned for myself broken and hopeless drinking and smoking my favorite coping methods for the void inside when I awake I pray for a heart attack to take me from the suffering burrowed inside of me knowing my passion and dreams have long since died solace in knowing we all die and nothing truly matters anyway we paint our lives to the point were destroyed when it all falls apart there are millions of stars lighting up the sky but only 88 constellations the dream is dead and hope is a lie
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