Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Atypnoc Sep 2015
I remember warm waves of content
Washing over with feeling, now I belong.
Until tide drawing back, you wonder where I went
Sloshing  over revealing it all was wrong
Atypnoc Sep 2015
when the thick fog creeping on your back seeps past
consuming sickness that was keeping track, gets lost at last
but this relief is leaping into grief, it's getting deep
and getting black, it's coming fast,
the clouds just weep themselves to sleep
since they can't brace for this attack

i may be awake
i may be asleep
i cannot remember
falling either way this deep

I am a dream.

I am experienced only as I occur
Even then the clarity at best is a stuttering blur.
The strands felt by fingertips lips kiss goodbye
can't repeat or be shared or reasoned much of why.
I am a nightmare.
Atypnoc Sep 2015
When the earth in which your roots entangle,
wrapped around your neck to strangle;
what you get for what you're worth-
the only right came at your birth.
Deplete the soil, tried every angle.
Where you grew, your growth has mangled.
And you knew, but still repeat
choking your own cries of defeat.
****.
Atypnoc Sep 2015
i misused
and i will try
to heal what bruised
from standing by
my clumsy head
i dont know why
i let you down
i cannot fly

i miss you til the day i die
Atypnoc Sep 2015
evaluate the symphony
be critical; direct
judge yourself from your actions
may justice be to reflect

the sentence ends the day you die
until then, run on, mourn
incoherence that depends on why you say why  
you left, right before you felt reborn.

in a way all is done
no body always
lost on the run.
in a way all is done
there is everything
Atypnoc Sep 2015
We are not born equal,
                               but alive.
The brave,
    and then the meek,
imagined strong
   actually weak
They who choose
    to seek will surely thrive.
but to say, no
        i must refuse,
        means to survive.
Atypnoc Sep 2015
leaders lead b/c followers will follow;
but if the followers
starve by the greed
of the 'lead,'
which as a title will swallow
the purpose that it was meant to feed.

It's all we have got!
No, don't drink what you bleed!
But I'm hollow and i rot!
and wont think to go be where i need.
Next page