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 Oct 2017 Rebel Heart
Iska
Words
 Oct 2017 Rebel Heart
Iska
I own about 300 books.
That's 300 main characters,
With roughly 2700 sub main characters.
Its about 12020 chapters,
With about 162600 pages
And about 3252000 sentences,
With roughly 55284000 words.
And that doesn't even account for all the books I have read, which if you know me, is most likely an impressive number.
Yet, of all the worlds I can slip into, with all the characters and personalities I can become, with all the differently written chapters, of all the beautiful unique words....
I can't seem to find the will to escape, can't seem to find the right story to disappear into. Can't find the perfect character to adapt to, can't find the ability to slip into the vast worlds of paper and ink... Of all those beautiful words, can't find one among them to place my emotions much less hold my attention.
I hate it when this happens,
When you can't find the will to disappear into the one thing you love, and have always been able to rely on to escape for just a short while.
No instead your stuck in your own mind with all of its dark chapters, distorted stories and twisted characters. Where, those same beautiful and unique words, are all jumbled together strung up in all the wrong ways. Oh what a dreary feeling. A hopelessness that consumes ones mind, usually so full of humor and imagination, now tethered down to a morbid and dark world
Each of us
Carries a dark patch
Trembling in guilt
to hide to our brim
No longer be afraid
of that dark side
As we are more than
the darkness
We are the light
to be outshined!
Go out and shine...
Or be there inside,
Still shine.
Darkness remains still
But never always
Without a crack of light.
 Sep 2017 Rebel Heart
Jerremy
I didn't put the straw down so I could be same person but this person I've become is not half of what I'd hoped
And the dead feeling and coping come only second to the slopes with your cracked hands around my neck feels more like burning from a rope
Dark tinted glasses mask these lines that wrap around my eyes the burning skyline dusty air compares my home to this demise
I'm softly spoken but my depressed token has me wearing this disguise and with my wings clipped the seamstress is still re-teaching me to fly
It was there, on that old log where she sat
under the trees cover, she talked to the moon
where she told him, I cause my own pain
as the wind quietly hummed her favorite tune.

She said,

The scars I bare are not just from the hands of others
not all are caused by the hurtful thundering rain
some are caused because I love too deeply
on that old log, she told him, I cause my own pain.

She said,

I cause my own pain, because I feel too deeply
I’ve loved when I shouldn’t have, way too much
I’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired for
just one certain, from just one…. A touch…..

She said,

To the tearing moon, I cause my own pain…….


The moon said, to Her

It was there, on that old log where you sat
while the wind hummed, your favorite song
that I touched you, ever so gently with light
to lead you in the direction, where you belong.

He said to her…

I touched you ever so gently with my light
to lead you to a heart, like you’ve never known
one, who like you has loved and felt deeply
who knows pain but also, the love you have shown.

He said to her…

Tis true you’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired for
but you’ve also given, and loved so very much
I’ve touched you, ever so gently with my light
so that you can feel, just one certain, from just one….

His touch….
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