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Writhen with doubt, stricken with silent fear
9/18
Stop
Falling backwards

I wanna spend my love on you
got me doing all the things I do
investing time and faith in you
you gotta do, what you gotta do

holding down listless commentary
sifting through every memory of us
building up, holding my breath
just to take a moment of you in

Stop
falling backwards
take us to the here and now
momentum breaking down

I wanna spend my love on you
distilled dreams caught me thinking
untold sights and sounds, dancing around in the clouds
questioning this way we livin'

Stop
falling backwards

If I could surmise us a plan
That wouldn't take much to bring us out of, it..
complacent, adjacent
but never close enough, to you

Oh, you..

Stop
Falling backwards
But I know where I wanna spend my time
and all I wanna do, all I want..

I wanna spend my love on you
one step forward, two steps back. it's always this way, it never hurts any less..
Axion Prelude May 22
I hear it in your tone, I feel it in your eyes, I sense it in the cadence of your voice and breathe; I see what you think I can't, I know what you think I don't

You don't care

It's not a greater sense of uncaring for all things, but a lack of care for things that should be considered; and instead of finding a common ground, or using any reasonable sensibilities, you dismiss every bit of resistance to the insalubrious discontent you harbor through pure negligence, pride blinding you to the pleas of those around you

You stifle me

The disruptive, belittling nature of your distaste for anything objective has come at a cost; and now, I lie in limbo from your deflective soul: you never enraptured me, you never captured my heart like a true mother should; no ideal preface resides in my observations, but merely fact and law of emotion

You make me feel worthless

Introspect whispered into my mind, and it showed me a truth I never cared to know: you never even tried to capture my essence, my soul, my heart, or my love; you simply let things be as they were, and I was  merely incidental to your existence

You showed love in the most obscure fashion, but you never followed through; you never held any convictions to what you said, or with whatever you responded in times I needed you most

You're incapable of comprehending the implications of your words and actions

A ghost of a man, invisible to the world at large; ultimately haunted by his own reality - you showed me you could never care, because your only clause for dire intent are your intrinsic doubts for anything other than what you experience; your selfishness proceeds you, it condemns you, it mires you, and yet it's everyone else that are the only ones that feel the repercussions

You've never once said sorry to me

I know you'll never read this, but if I had one last chance to just convey the heavy-handed affects of your neglect, it would be: your actions, and inaction, stifle my own sense of care. You've left me in limbo, trying to understand how I should, or could feel about you; you've left me to question my love for one of the only people in my existence that I should be able to reliably known, for certain, love me all the same; you've garnered such abhorrent trends, traits, and habits that consistently, and constantly, rival everyone you come in contact with. The neglect has left my heart tainted, worried, and lonely; you've made me question where I stand, and where I can be.

You can't seem to understand how you're hurting people

That will live with me until you pass, and until the day I die as well. I'll never know what you truly felt, because you hide it under such a thick guise; a facade you've made out of what seems to be necessity, but mostly just arrogant dissonance.

You're not bad to people, but you're explicitly not good either

I don't know how to love you, anymore, because I don't comprehend how you love me. I don't know where I stand, I don't know where to be. I don't know where to go anymore with these feelings. I suffer through nostalgia for things I never had, and digress all intent to a lesser understanding of myself, for it. I suffocate near you, I want to weep yet cringe at doing so for not understanding whether you even deserve my pity, my remorse, my forgiveness, or my love.

I will never understand my own worth, to you

you were never bad to me, not directly, but you never were there for me in the ways I needed you most. you abandoned me, a long time ago, and I will never understand whether that's my fault, or strictly your own. My heart feels a sickness within it, one that makes my chest convulse; like nothing I've felt before. it's wrong, it's nothing, it's everything; it's impure, it's disdain. it's aching to feel anything at all, from you.

you hurt me, and you'll never comprehend, understand, or know why. Because of this, I know we will leave this world wholly apart, and I will never be able to come to terms with that; I will forever live with and inevitably die with that being my only reality

My soul feels sick
Axion Prelude Apr 12
Silent pleas are meaningless in the face of overwhelming odds. The strength to move forward is not always as easy for some than others, yet the others who can afford such staunch accord seem to never comprehend how difficult a task it is to simply rise from bed.

The ones who see most seem to always be most blind to the qualms of those with such resonant concern for the pithy; even the innate ire of one begets the inherent ire of all.

Slowly, thoughts become tangible, changing from empty shadows to a festering aura. It leeches life from all things good and meaningful, and there begins the downfall.

Things which once were the epitome of joy - sometimes subtly, sometimes abruptly - become festering reminders of what once was; they sit rotting at the pit of a dissonant cacophony of sore misdirection, doubt, and unwavering fear, a solemn reminder of yesterday and everything which can not be had anymore.

Anger suffices where patience once stood watch over all interactions. In that brings suffering from doubt for all things said and done, all things come and gone, and all things not yet relevant, real, or existent. The agony builds in each passing moment, staggering and belittling; suffocation enduring, mired belligerent tones of sheer desolation sets the stage for a Grey, toneless perception.

Once stagnant, all fades away. Sounds echo broadly, profusely; words fall short in every regard; feeling stops existing, plight becomes numb: an emptiness no other void can retain or convey becomes standard, and the moment fades away becoming not one, but many. Becoming persistent, real, and the only thing true.

Emptiness suffices where a whole sum of love, experience, and joy once was. All things considered, nothing brings memory of such passions. Nothing breaks the void away. Nothing changes, nothing progresses.

Emptiness consumes everything, even rationality of resolution. All one can think of is escaping this nonsensical devouring void. But it's not possible, because nothing good exists here.

And the cycle repeats
Axion Prelude Mar 31
I had a dream, I saw you there
You reached for me
I reached back

Your skin was cold as ice
Scared, you told me to awake
I opened my heart

I had awoken, but you weren't there
The dream is what kept me alive
I had a dream..
Be honest with people. Don't hide anything. Don't lead on, don't contrive meaning or intent.

Hearts break, emotions shut down; listless fortune settles into the crevices where once resided compassion, dreams, and hope for something good.

I am ashamed of how often I come to this place inside. It's a home, it's a prison; it never changes.

I trust too easily.
Axion Prelude Dec 2018
Stalwart shadows
Empty light eschewing darkness

This fog engulfs me
Doubt residing beneath my breath
No one fears, here
Nobody listens to silent screams

Contempt sets in
Emptiness guides dithered legacy
A shallow grave consumes the plight
Axion Prelude Oct 2018
Withering kiss belittles fate
Sultry, affluent, perfection lost
a damnation of intent
skewed by empty plight

endearing atrophy weaves no ties
cut from the crowd
whispers seeking place in time
Wreaking havoc upon sullen breadth

dreams disguise desire
the facade awakens every day
the ghostly touch of weightless hands
deliverance, mourning truth
each dream ached by sunder of hope
remiss of such light, I become mired

such calmness and good comes of the night
by day, there resides no such kindness by my side
I await, forever..
kindness means nothing to those who seek to gain for only themselves; the rest simply do not exist near me. Such desired gentleness goes unheard. I wish to have ever beheld a heart who seeks me on its own, before i go

my dreams lie to me, as if to convey what I need most would ever exist; mocking my will to go forward by sharing a taste of what seems, by now, will never be real
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