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 Mar 2018 Julian Revà
It has all been said,
a line, a word, a dull phrase,
yet you're everything.
 Mar 2018 Julian Revà
Those who dream awake
Those whose minds a lake
Reflected, deep, and cold
It's also sick and old

They see the wars
Hear the shores
Wishing they were never born
Wishing, oh, how they're worn

They are the soldiers
Searching for their closure
They listen in silence
To hear their hidden guidance

They're labeled "psychotic"
When really, they're aquatic
Swimming, sinking, diving
They're minds are quickly thriving

They see the future, past, and present
Dreamers, they represent
No more are they "schizophrenic"
They're dreams now, photogenic
(move) to
rhythms (my)
(soul) can’t help
but d a n c e
you move my soul along
 Feb 2018 Julian Revà
you knock at my door
i open it, standing there
in my oversized tshirt
and my hair done in braids
i let you in
you have a new speaker
you're so excited
you apologize
because your retainer
is still in your mouth
and your hair looks
like you haven't brushed it
and i don't know
how to tell you that
you are the most beautiful
person i have ever seen
you ask me for music
preference but i say
whatever you want
because you are my
melody and i could
dance to you all
night long
you climb on my
roommate's bed and
sit there because
she's out of town
and i get in bed
we sit in silence
you with your retainer
and me with my glasses
we're listening to
indie music and laughing
saying maybe today
the world isn't so ******
and this bass is just
so **** perfect
and we're not lovers
we're just friends
and that is so much
better than anything
i could ask for
you ask me how we
are so perfect
together and i
tell you that it is
because your presence
feels so much like
home to me
it gets later in the night
and you're falling asleep
we talk about your dreams
you want to return to
cape town and become
someone dedicated to
service and love
and i don't know
how to tell you that
you are so perfect
to me and i love the way
you hold yourself and
always strive to be someone
better, stronger, greater
we're listening to songs
in languages i don't speak
but gosh
your eyes light up when we
speak of the fields and
the ceremonies
you feel like you belong there
and i feel like i would
like to be somewhere near you
so that after you're done
saving the world for the day
you can come lie
next to me and we can
listen to indie songs
until we fall asleep.
vance joy's new album is amazing
I bite my cheeks down until my mouth foams with blood and saliva.
Intentionally or not, I love the copper taste.
My eyes can only see the normality of it all.
But to others, I look like I need help.

I grit my teeth until they crack and fall out of my lips.
The blood gushes out, **** I can't get enough of this.
This pain that my body seeks to self destruct.
It's harmful pleasure that emits from my nerves.

I chew at the sides of my mouth as it leaks out with blood.
So bittersweet, I can't believe my body produces this.
I guess it's just me trying to calm my nerves.
I can't stop shaking while I type these words.

I scratch my left hand until I peel off the skin.
Through my muscle tissues and my leaking red veins, I can see the end.
I feel my eyes go wide and turn crazed.
I'm not suicidal, I'm just a mess, okay?

I dig my finger nails deep into my palms.
Little crescent like shapes of a blood red moon.
I feel like I have the world in my hands.
But is it dangerous to give that power to an insane man?

I punch erratically until my knuckles turn blue and red.
Licking off the residue of blood stained cement.
I feel the adrenaline rushing through me.
Punching the ground until my skeleton gets a taste to.

I slit my arms to perfect red dotted lines of 11.
There's a specific reason for that number.
But it's a secret you'll never find, so I just laugh.
While you watch me split my skin in half.

I bite my lips until they to begin to bleed.
If I do this enough, maybe I won't have to ever speak.
I **** until my lips turn dry.
And I penetrate through my skin with my teeth once again.

I chew my nails down to the core.
Watching the red water bleed through the cracks of my fingers.
The stinging sensation that makes my chest tense.
But floods my face with a warm, bright red.

The demons have already chewed down to my bones.
It's slow, but painful, but I love their tongue sliding on my flesh.
Sinking their teeth to rip me to shreds.
And so I bite down more and savor the taste.
I am self-destructing.
 Feb 2018 Julian Revà
I might misplace my keys from time to time,
I'll forget to buy milk and do the laundry,
my mother calls me irresponsible
cannot blame her, she doesn't understand;
my mind is busy
analyzing peoples lips when they talk, the way they smile
or when they walk
observe their fingers as they hold on to something
do they hold it tightly? does the way they hold it influence their need for it?
I like to study peoples eyes the most
when they laugh
when they cry
when they talk or just listen
the glory is each individual eye and the way the color changes in sunlight
I'm sorry I forgot your birthday
the names of the movies we watched
I didn't mean to ignore your calls, i promised I'd call back
I will
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