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Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
...and it all hits with a weight of familiar regret
      The past drawn from beneath the surface
                 Like blood beneath my flesh
It all spills out and i'm fully exposed.
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Chaotic remedies for wicked dreams
         Elixer seeping past quiet lips
    Numb mind can't speak
Words of broken spirit
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Fractals of cosmos
Shifting and exchanging
continuously rearranging
     Thought matter extracted;
                         retracted
Creators and partakers
We are the infinite possibility
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Lost beneath the burning bridges
I'm choking on my pride
Our eyes meet differently now
Our laughs are cold and still
      Forcing re-connection
Our time is fading fast
Come dear friend, sit by my fire
     Come warm our love one last time
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Stability Unstable,
    Like the ocean tides,
            Connected only through the shift in seasons.
I'm tangled in the intricacies of life.
Alone, I watch the way things move;
How a smile between strangers is pure
How quirkiness is a form of building walls
      Blissfully waiting to burst at the first sign of reality
Underlying emotions shifting every second,
      Deeper into the unknown
I walk on broken steps without perception
My head held captive in the clouds
Without care of destination,
      Yet striving to arrive
Lost between here and there
Well composed
       Slowly witty
             Brightly burnt out
       Ambitiously un-motivated
Spirit trapped in body
      Body trapped by mind
An oxymoron of unconscious awareness
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Watch the clock tick as the sands of life slip into the void.
Feel the infinite moment pass you by.
Count the seconds.
Feel age creep over your skin.
Every moment, unique in its self.
Then it’s gone.
Amanda Blomquist Jan 2013
Habitual rituals leaving me breathless and exhausted.

A loves lost.

I set aside intuition for one more moment,
- 
one transfixed moment of illusionary wholeness.

I’m tripping over apologies and promises,

- stumbling into my own mess once more.

My throat is dry from clearing the air;

   my heart is wounded but hopeful.
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