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From all the time they lived.
From the places behind the present.
Moving never felt so good.

Time and light and darkness.
People things and places.
Words and all responses.
Surrounded by thousands of years.
I have been locked in the basement for an eternity it seems,
In my hidden room behind the walls.
I wear a red and white striped collared polo.
I have very stiff and strait jeans.
My brown wrinkly skin resembles that of Yoda.
I am not allowed socks for I may escape into society.
My crooked eyes,
Like a high definition video camera.
I clamber around the house like a bouncy little dwarf.
I only eat from the floor.
The bark flies by in pastel existence.
The leaves seem like mountains of crinkly rock.
Brown and green swirl like the universe and it blurs together in the cold cool air.

The static position gets hard to maintain.
I want to twitch. I faulter slowly.
It begins to write itself in flowing ink.
Fireside on a scroll in dripping sincerity.

The golden embers gracefully rise and my mind collides with the explosions of life.

Glowing in the future is a hidden hate.
A deep despise and an impostor date.
The clone of love lies through its teeth.
Betrayl, torture, surrender, he seethes.
Deep in this forest the robes make the world.
The blues in these bushes make us forever.

Bone magic. Slow and tragic.
Draw me something dramatic,

The black sand sparkles in the wind,
The lightning sears with the fire within,
A reason to die but a reason to live,
The monsters attack us,
They claw at our sins.
The darkness will take us all.

As we conquer our dreams,
As we spill this dark wine.
Our lives emanate glory,
Our souls escape time.
The world seems like two places,
Older now with two faces.
Chasing the one I see is the one I used to be.

I wrote this future for myself.
Words and forces broke my hell.
As I escaped to where I am I forgot the place I was,
The starry sky can start to dance the shimmer in my starry blood.

As science became surface deep,
The cheat codes seemed to up and leave.
My belief in knowing how went somewhere else and left me now.

True existence in theories and dreams.
Memories, happiness, anger, and screams.
Finding out the defined meanings of everything I assumed I liked.

My memories determined my future, and as I remember them I seem to get cuter.
What I never knew.
What I thought I was.
How was it true?
YOLO.
This mask is alive in follows my soul,
Surrounding my body my friends and my home,
This space inbetween us decreases with wind,
The world sitting under us hiding within.

This mask is electric its forces are strong,
It shuts up my mouth and its rubber so long,
It changes my stature my face and my life,
It colors my soul and it preaches my sight.
This mask is a darkness,
Foundation of light.
It seeps through my irises and seems unpolite.
It causes me anger and stress and a fire.
This mask is a cage after all I'm inspired.

Its vacuum is black and it tears me apart.
Valueless words and valueless art.
It hides all the worth and replaces demand.
If I'm Michael Myers then you're Spiderman
Sweet Poem
This mask is alive in follows my soul,
Surrounding my body my friends and my home,
This space inbetween us decreases with wind,
The world sitting under us hiding within.

This mask is electric its forces are strong,
It shuts up my mouth and its rubber so long,
It changes my stature my face and my life,
It colors my soul and it preaches my sight.
This mask is a darkness,
Foundation of light.
It seeps through my irises and seems unpolite.
It causes me anger and stress and a fire.
This mask is a cage after all I'm inspired.

Its vacuum is black and it tears me apart.
Valueless words and valueless art.
It hides all the worth and replaces demand.
If I'm Michael Myers then you're Spiderman.
A good poem
Water man splashes across the counter,
And leaps across spaces and follows my mind,
He morphs into colors and turns into droplets,
and sparkels like raindrops and intricate lines,

He glitters and rises and shapes into fire,
above all the dishes he shows me a sign,
He draws a geometry making a pyramid,
Red lazer structure of historical times,

Down to the basement a firey sphere,
Drops to the floor and beneath me is clear,
A red firey army of lava men march,
upon idle spectrum,
Existing a hearth,

The fires of childhood,
The embers of love,
Beliefs about god and a heaven above,
Alone in my bedroom imagined the world,
Only found hatred destruction and girls.

FIgurines, Magazines, Books, and My toys,
Basketballs, bikes, remote control noise,
Yelling and fighting and screaming and swears,
Pajamas and light and my eyelashes stares,
The fruits of desire and something I liked,
The things that I wanted, the things that I might,
Begin to see clearer as falacious lies,
The imposter goals, and the plans, and the skies.

Alone in my room is where everythings real,
The realest me and the realest steel,
Nose in the vent breathing cold air alas,
The world was rock and I was a glass.
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