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Marco Carlos Dec 2019
THE IRIDESCENT PLATEAU FLOATED ABOVE THE DUSK PINK SKY
YET SHE CHERISHED WHAT HAD MADE HER HOME AFTER ALLL THE YEARS
THE FEAR THAT GREW AND THE PROBLEMS THAT ARROSED
A DEMON WHOM APPEARED PARTLY VANISHED
Marco Carlos Sep 2019
When you rose this morning,

I got you 12 more roses.



Hold them close,

They more similar to you than you think.

They’re short, full of life,

And both of you smell nice.



When you go to bed,

I hope them to be near you in a vase,

Their pedals will be ever spread,

Waiting to greet your waking face.



When time has passed,

And the pedals no longer glisten,

They won’t cling to the stem,

The beautifully imperfect flowers,

You will truly miss them.



But give them love and patience,

They will bloom in the rain.

And every time you look at them,

You will relive this night again.
Marco Carlos Aug 2019
Who is who?
Is he, he?
Is she, she?
Who is false?
Who is true?

They are not themselves,
They are others,
to their own.
Who are they really?

If you are one of them?
Then who are you?
If you are not truly yourself?
A mere shell pretending.
An impersonator of who
You once were.
Marco Carlos Aug 2019
I feel trapped in my own mind sometimes,
A mind of four walls.
These four walls mock me,
making a cell of 176 mm length and a width of 145 mm.
I’ve grown to see it change.

At first it was a collage with the upmost potential,
With plenty of space to be filled.
As years went, the cell learned,
Like a bucket collecting rain drops,
Under a cracked ceiling,
One idea after the other entered.
I can only hear the echoes of my own voice here,
No one else can hear the screams,
laughs and everything in between.
No one can help save me,
nor join me,
in this cell.
I feel it observing me from the deepest hallows,
of my subconscious,
Grinning at me and my meagre existence.

I greet the sun, through the barred window,
Every once and a while.
For those moment’s I am not imprisoned,
I am free as the wind and the birds that glide upon it.
But always,
The bucket over-flows,
I drown to awake.
It can’t be escaped and
With every attempt to,
It always find a way,
To tame, subjugate and leave me in submission.

I realise I am the door that separates me from my desires
and ambitions.
The concrete and steel, are figments of ones own
imagination.
Somewhere within, there is a key.
When found, I shall take it and run,
never to return,
to this cell of mine.
A journey through my conscious, if you will.
Marco Carlos Jun 2019
I don’t need just your love.
It doesn’t interest me.

I need your thoughts,
Your heart to beat a little faster
Every time I enter the room,
Your eyes to gaze a little longer
When they cross over me,
Your stomach to jump
When someone mentions my name.

An Illness that cannot be cured,
Coursing through your veins.
A part of you that you can’t remove,
No matter how hard you try.
That’s what I want.

Love me so much, you could die.
Marco Carlos Jun 2019
What does one do when love is lost?
I have merely stopped existing.
No past, no future
No dreams, no fears
No up, no down
Just a mere straight line,
With no faults, breaks,
or ascensions.
I even crave a plummet,
If need be.
But there’s nothing...
I have flatlined, I am dead.
As what is life without love?
Nothing
Marco Carlos Jun 2019
Shy
All I hear is the deafening tock,
Of a clock ticking
My life is slowly going by
I would  stop it to say hello
And dare I even enjoy it’s company
But I’ve always been too shy
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