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A grey sky
An empty world
A broken heart
A plethora of loneliness
read between the lines
with an eagle's eye,
only then will you
unveil and decipher,
the hidden secrets of a poet
She was seated there
Alone
Alone in darkness
Her amorphous shadow displaced
On the cold floor
By the light from the dying moon
The silence was too loud
And so were her thoughts
Depressing suicidal thoughts
Her soul banished
In an abyss of grotesque
Psychological torture

From a distance
A coruscate of hope
An opportunity to escape
Her anathematized reality
All of this because of him
The man of his dreams
The one she knew
Was absolute for her
The only one who wouldn't relinquish  her
Like everyone did
Death!
Surreptitiously he
Approached her
And she  whispered

"Take me with you"

But even he had a type
And she wasn't his
And just as she was before
She remained to be
A piece of **** in a ****** society!
I'll probably be getting drunk on some alaskan thunderfuck or smoking some courvoisier yeah my world is discrete from yours.
I see things differently.
Sometimes even the most perspicacious people do some dumb **** in the name of love!
I drift off to be found by my new reality, an amorphous existence where winds carry a challenging honesty,
the incarnation of rhythm itself

Amidst the breeze, I meditate
swaying in the rhythm,
my limbs become like quicksand,
a physical contemplation
of the depth of character

A quicksand entity,
I am the being who abides
the infidel to patiently infect,
and engulf,
A suffocation mentality
Mathew O'meara
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