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Back from class
Now middle of day
Coming back to it
I don’t want to stay
This place, it’s purpose to be a home
But to me it’s just a house;
I turn to music for relief
An escape from life lessons
And long conversations
Of long term subjects
Or avocations
I don’t want the future
So I’ll look to the past
But even those memories
Could never last.
Left turns to right
Down starts going up,
Confusion sets in
Then fear follows
My heart realizes it’s spent
All this time hollow
Like a lost boy in a winter storm
clinging to a small fire for heat
Until it snuffs out,
Freezing, and accepting defeat
To the assault of this cold, cold world.
First poem I’ve put on here that has a consistent rhyming scheme throughout the entire thing.

11/01/2024 - 11:15PM
Restrained from hope
But retrained from fear

A sense of trying to grab into reality
Yes into,
As I’m out of it
As it slips through my fingertips
Like a thought could trigger fatality

Rivers running down my cheeks
But I can’t feel them
The sea salt scent trailing into my nostrils
But I can’t smell

Trembling from loss of light
Though a purge of blinding light
is within my heart
Telling a story
Of Already wilting flowers
being cut from their stem
Before being given another chance
Before they realize they’re wilting

Now I can’t think of anything at all
Except my shadows running across the wall
Like it’s frightened
Of me,
A madman
A sacrificial lamb

Scared of what I am
And what I may become.
The rain
only pours for a short while
And so
The parched flower,
enjoys its presence
To the utmost,
And in the tears of pollen,
A constant yearning
Keeps it empty through the night.

By god’s will
its roots are sufficiently filled
The little smidgen needed to survive
To live and breathe the liquid gold,
Becomes her purpose.
The evasive storm,
expected when she most blooms
Daren’t give poor marigold the time of day
Left in the piercing sun, she is
To dry and decay

Yes marigold is only one of many
Her constant failure can’t peak
The interest of the rain
Its beauty matched,
by roses and daffodils.
Even so
She pursues his soft,
pitter patter
and nourishing touch
And wishes to, until the gracing wind
Scatters her ashes across the sky.
0/15/24
Knock knock,
On the door.
I want to be alone

With each pound,
A little light breaks through
Giving me a glimpse
Of the tall shadows I choose to live with

The knocking becomes desperate
I can feel the urgency in the constant sound
Of wood splintering
I don’t want to move.

My shadows give me comfort
The light is too frightening to be in.
Why can’t they stop knocking?

They begin to kick
And kick,
The door remains
As if un phased by the toil of them
Who want me out

Why do they bother,
I’m okay here.
I assume.

The knocking slows to a stop

and one last, soft and barely heard
Tap
Somehow shakes me to my core.
Knocking my door to the ground.

The tall shadows are whisked back into the dark

The wood is filled with vines,
Burnt and corroded

And as I peer into the blinding light

I see blood dripping down
my own hands.
We can fall in love with horrible people
Just as
We can find comfort in pain.

The last “describing the indescribable” poem.
But if you see
The vast and open world,
The “unfixable” situations
About wildlife
And people of all sorts,
For what it is
You’ll find that no force
nor decision from a court,
could sustain a balance
Pt. 2
Our instinct in life
Is to have
A commodity we may rely on
for as long as we need it
A proper way to do things
That for years could be repeated
My parched heart yearns for a droplet of love
Some sort of affection.. something that would change my life
They say you’ll know it when it happens, that it’s all in the hands of the above
Though these tempting kisses and touches have marked my soul
Tricked me into false emotion, I’ll never let up on my goal
My eyes, now blinded by the aspect of forever love, don’t light up with hope and courage anymore.
This one feeling is so strong, too strong
It has stripped everything of their value, love remaining in the spotlight.
Like a drug I’ve never even tried
Has kept me in a bind
I’ve gone crazy, not being able to bear the thought of living without it any longer
So I’ll push through the decaying desert, no matter the cost
A journey to grab the hand of Aphrodite herself and beg for her sweet tears of love to quench me of my thirst, to cure me of my despondency.
And should I fail, my final note will entail
The miserable, despicable, lonely life
That I’ll have ended with a heavy heart.
It was not Aphrodite’s tears that came, but my own. Me, a victim of my own game, lost to the constant state of the world
But it all ends with a happy ending
As it shows the true love for myself, and I
My one true partner, with whom I died
To arrange the wedding in the sky..
This takes place in the mind of a psychopath
But can describe what some have felt inside..
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