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Fawning over the fissile festivities,
with which I fake my facile form.
Fatal futility floods my far-flung faith in myself.

Feeding the fires of my forgery,
Frantic forethought,
Fictionalizing the facts before my faithless eyes.

Forclosing upon the fractional freedoms that I've so long fought for.
Fearing the unforgiving firestorm that follows,
Once I've finally exhausted faith in my future.

Fielding my final fight,
Standing fast in the face of futility.
Fit to fly into the fray.
It's a sad state of affairs,
When I pray for a freak accident,
So I don't have do deal with,
What I'm scared of:

Me
Every minute is a century,
When I can't fall asleep.

Evasive peace.
Please...

It's getting hard to breathe...


Stop.
Breathe.
Hold.
It's going to be okay.


Sleep
So,
Tryin to be independent of the venom inside my head,
This isn't dead though,
My eyes are red so,
I'm reaching the pinnacle,
Reading into the syllables,
Inside my head,
That want me dead,
But I'm not ready yet,
So I'll just say no to the infected perception of the world around me,
So,

Just relax,
Here I am.
Just look in the mirror,
Smile,
And jump in.

The water is cold and unforgiving,
The product of being so lost and feeling so
Dark, alone, but I'm never quitting, so,

Hold on and don't let go,
It's gonna be hard,
But don't let your feeling show,
How scared you are,
To feel the scars,
and free the arts,
of the real,
person you are.

Just show them,
You'll never give up,
Just feel the love,
and let it grow,
So,

Be who you are,
and don't forget,
when things are hard,
Just stare at the stars.

~Robert van Lingen
The rhythm is inspired by NF, and his music. Listen to "The Search" by NF then read this with that kind of rhythm, and that's how I envisioned it.
I am weary, now,
Of this thing called hope.
-
My,
capacity for selflessness,
veracity for honesty,
fervency for forgiveness...

i never turn my back.
however,
what is the cost of caring?



Mindful is the falling plum of its fate.
Doomed to be trod upon, yet,
From the remains is always born new life.


-
My ****** days...
My shifty swaying,
back and forth.
Not knowing what to do,
or who I am...
or why.

Blank staring,
Lines in my mind telling me I'm worthless,

Nothing Changed...
Why now?

Lie Down.

The anxiety forces,
The blankest piety,
Just looking for an answer.

Please just let it end,
So I can get to my mind again
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