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 Aug 2015 Jason
Tim Amaru
Me
 Aug 2015 Jason
Tim Amaru
Me
I’m a mess of unfinished thoughts. A collection of sentences with no endings. An unwritten story thought out a million times. I swear I’ve written novels inside my head. I am a bundle of theories with no backbone other than my passion and logic of love. Some say that I am a complete & utter mess but honestly, I wouldn’t wana have it any other way...
 Aug 2015 Jason
Lexie
As the world of your dreams lays shattered on the floor
Will you dig its grave into my broken heart?
So that our broken, imperfect pieces,
*Will never be far apart
 Aug 2015 Jason
Anya
Vacuous Truths
 Aug 2015 Jason
Anya
When I die,
I do not want vacuous truths at my written eulogy.
I do not want people hear lies about me.

“She was beautiful.”
I am not. I was not.
Beautiful people knew how to dress.
They do not act like an awkward mess.

“She was strong and brave.”
I am not. I was not.
Strong and brave people do not cry themselves to sleep.
They do not consider themselves as a heap

“She was smart.”
I am not. I was not.
Smart people are not afraid of choices they make.
They are confident about the risks they take.

Before I die,*
I want you to know that I am dull, anxious and dumb.
I am broken and small like a piece of crumb.
 Aug 2015 Jason
glassea
temporary
 Aug 2015 Jason
glassea
she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.
so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)
 Aug 2015 Jason
Anya
6th Sense
 Aug 2015 Jason
Anya
I see you too much
I hear you to much
I smell you too much
I taste you too much
I feel you too much

That you became my
6th sense
 Aug 2015 Jason
Saul Makabim
These forever memories
are rotten corpses
Sickening to the senses
impossible to ignore
An acid scar
A screaming child
It is the nightmares
that assault us in the day
that never go away
It is the nightmares we become
that whisper softly
when your mind refuses sleep.
 Aug 2015 Jason
Saul Makabim
Explain
how you wandered here
randomly
no one finds anyone
like me
without knowing
who I am
And yet
They dig me up
crack the coffin open
poke me with sticks
and take pictures
for the scrapbook
of restless dead.
 Aug 2015 Jason
Saul Makabim
Think
 Aug 2015 Jason
Saul Makabim
What makes you think
that the suffering will stop
if you take off the top
of your head
with a shower
of buckshot
or slice the artery
longways
or down
those pills
with a gallon of wine
fully dressed
lying in bed
with a note
pinned to your chest
What makes you think
the pain will stop
just because your dead?
I hate to break it to you
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