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 Mar 2017
Poetic T
Duality of selves motionless in existence
stagnated in their reflections. Creating false
homes to burn there memories within.

Gleefully listening to the screams of past
reminisce, relics of pain now descend in
wisps of a void now vacant of vocal scaring.

They are of disengaged from their  essence,
but attain the husks of before. They are binary
in there  motions of hearts wielded to the other.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
Eyes there a inconvenience in the shadows
of perpetual darkness,  like ailments of light
they shift around my desolate room.
I hear things, things that I should be able to
visualize with nothing within the perceptive
gazes of my sight.

I once had a life, I wouldn't call this life but
a destitute lingering of shimmering reflections
that resonate back to this place. filaments of
noise lacerate on my senses. Then I hear the
echo of past pains, my ears are vacant this
melody that I hear within my cerebral contusions.

Whispers slither within my memories, violating
valuable instances, the hairs on my arms procure
a stance of pins magnetized on vibrations.
Shading accumulates within the room and a voice
plays on the shadow of my flesh and I hear:

"Where
            is
                DADDY,

"Where

                   is

       DADDY,


I shudder as I see nothing before me, but
shading that illuminates the surroundings
in visceral empathy, that I  cant rightly conceive.
I encompass my reaction too slowly as thoughts
willingly motion my palms forward to oblivion.
Regressing on the onward offerings, I step back.

Have I been thinking to much, am I seeing things
that are an apparition of my desolation within
the world of my singular selves. I stumble away
from the solitude lingering in the blank reflections.
Instead I look in the mirror and see myself speaking

"Where
            is
                DADDY,

"Where

                   is

       DADDY,

My younger self hammers on the echo's
of a past, unwritten words collect on my
reflection. I could stop this, if I just listened
to tearful repetitions, but I just walk into a silent
nullity of air. A reproduction of fading moments
tries in vain to stop this continuation of ourselves.

Awoken on a ***** mattress in a room, I remember
this place, but it seems desolate like the feelings
were drained from its existence.. I'm only a child,
why am I here? I cry out "Where is daddy,
Tearful in this moment, till I see a rope hanging loosely
from the ceiling, I swing back and forth, its cold on my fingers.
A ghost reliving its existence in a room never remembering, that its stuck in a limbo of its own creation.....
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
Woven in ivory petals that adorn its
motions, a visual representation of
peace upon the visual stimulus that
will fly into the yonder of wishes.

But within this parcel of bleached
entitlement hiders a delirium that
isn't pondered upon with eyes
visualizing are secret not wanting.

For the optic perceptions are sunken
in extinction, a door to the soul and these
are parched darker than oblivions depths.
Tears never fall in the depths of a void.

*"Beauty has a secret, look within its sight,
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
The Rabbits hand weaved on the circulation
of the air, vivid rainbows were eroding from
his palms. I tried to catch them but in vain I
was slumbered within a vacuum of nothingness.

I sneezed and the rabbit had evaporated into clouds
above my reflections. Tick-Tock went the clouds.
like they were counting down to the inevitable
disablement of there being, I bathed in there innards.

My Conciseness was assaulted with this kaleidoscope
of tiny speculation drumming inwards soaking me
with uncensored reality. I was awaking to a hued
refection that I didn't want to inevitably react too.

I pondered momentarily, then took a partaking to that
which like an ocean waved upon my cognition.
I was once again flustered in the degradation of all that
was reality as it disintegrated in to fluidic chaos.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
Uttered whisperings
colliding within my thoughts
                                Shadowing my soul..
          
                       The raven uttered silently......

*You walk the path of the dead..
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
I walk the ether on shattered remnant souls
where upon each beleaguered treading are
the voices that speak,
          pulverized
beyond
             contemplation,

echoes of many mingle upon the reflections.

Abstaining from touching with my vocalization,
fearful onslaughts eager to venture upon me.
                "I stay silent,
Inhibited by their yearning to be me, but they
are but only remnants of a principle that was
burrowed upon they were a field of sorrows
now ploughed into oblivion. Seeding this ether
with spores of disillusion that will slowly grow
darker as they flourish upon others torments.

This is a place where no soul should venture by
own wandering, or enticed by the remnant voices
of others once vacant and known.

"They are a harvest of remnant souls,
          **"To whom they be fed upon, hope we never know...
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
My interpretation of contemplation
is in a state of decomposition.
Base elements of reflection are dissolving
into disputable references.

Mulled over, loathsome is the effigy of
outlines that are dispersing in to the womb
of illiterate  perceiving.
Yet they propagate in there dismemberment .

And from the shallow graves of whispers
now faded into unimportance, singular movement
weaves and an original idea breaks through and
new introspection is blossoming where none were.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
A dismemberment of my eclipsing reflections
              are decapitated in to nonexistence.

  *I just smile slightly...
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
In a womb of depravity I am nourishment
gravitating between the succubus of
both the linage of lambert and vagueness
that stems from the breeches of my creation.

Consciousness  of what is wielding its gravity
upon my weak state, if I just let them weave
between my creativity and formation of what
is a visualization of my creation...

I'm not the centre of this reality, but I'm the
formation of bonds that predate my existence.
Yet I'm disembodied with paranoia, of those
whispers that have a rotation upon my being.

Mother can you yield to the struggle that formulates
with this interval that comes within the gravity of
my existence. I have extremities that wield upon my
presence and they make me feel a need to be aborted.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
Garnet lanterns delve before ones
            static existence,
                      are the motions really ceased
or does life whisper mutely in exhaled melodies....
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
The killer is in a hidden room
                               where he rests,
Outside false faces are woven to meet
the needs of normality.
But when he awakens
they descend like petals and they blossom in blood,
will he feed on your nectar
             or will you be the flower that wilts in decay.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
I looked into her eyes and they just looked
like puddles of milk, with a reflection of the
expanse that hung over them. I would look
for hours at the unattainable sights that could
have been glanced upon.

Could this moment be anymore alluring,
we gazed upon each others reflections.
Hers never rendering to the needs of
my wonderings as when I observed
her puddles of blue I could drone in them.

The door bell rang so I put them back in
beaker, keeping them moist in liquid.
Unattached pools floating within another..
The residual vessels not of wanting were
now vacant of their being and empty.

"Hello officer,

"We have had some disappearances recently,
These are the gentlemen & ladies that have come
to our attention,


"Sorry sir, I haven't seen them around here I they
have such distinct eyes, I would have noticed them,


The door shuts after their  diluted eyes hover over me like
flies, so mundane in sight, like marbles reproduced too
many times.  Flaws visible like cracks in porcelain.
I wait till footsteps are just fading repetitions and then
descend to my viewing room.

                                              They stare at me and I smile.
 Jan 2017
Poetic T
She was devastated with the repercussions of
those last words.
                           "I don't love you any more,
His eyes were like tidlewaters of convulsions
that never showed but were washing away
everything inside..

The phone rang and it was his dad?
       New low I pondered , was he enlisting his family
to intervene in the words of my heart,
I must admit it was only because he forgot my birthday..
He had remembered everyone but this one I was not so
unforgiving and took my displeasure on his heart.

"Hi,

I interrupted before another word he was able to be versed.

"Is he there I need to apologise... I let my disappointment
               thread words that I could tell hurt his feelings,


"He's dead,

"That's not even funny, we only spoke an hour ago?

"An hour is an eternity too a heart, we found him swaying
in the hall way, his mother cant even speak,


[[Three Years later]]

She never got over that phone call, not even venturing to
the funeral of one she claimed to love... Her mind was not
fluid but more like rock pools of thought near but never
connecting. Thoughts were surrounding in wall of denial,
retraction of reality was the only way she copied with existence.

She looked at the clock, this was becoming a mundane exercise
as she walked down to the basement. Carrying it downstairs
she just looked with woeful eyes, muffled emotions were
whispering on her mind. How could one find love again if
not to consume it?? Her heart had died at that moment long ago.

There they were, strapped to the wall, medieval looking shackles
dangled like rusty jewellery of the wall adorning their wrists.
Haunted love not able to verse the worries to the other only
in gestures of eyes told.
"I saw it in his eyes you know..

"It only took so few words to silence a moment of forever,

"I need that feeling back,

Tears were cascading down there eyes.. those portals to a universe
of perceiving, a single heart beat speaks more than words,
The voice that speaks out, but within a single glance.
They were the shadow to each others feelings, but where was
mine now. I told them it was my  fault they were here and
their love was beautiful to perceive but mine had been silenced.

She had positioned it in the place least to make resistance.
And then without even a notable pause she cleaved it in..
Love bleed profusely, and she drank upon it. Choking on its
warmth, she lessened the flow with her thumb. Sipping rather
than swallowing upon her palate and it seeped within her.

So warm were the feelings that were the shallow waters of
loves feeling washing over her being, but once was fulfilling
quickly went cold within  fading from that feeling to nothing
but cold life that tasted departed on the tongue. Love fades so
fast on the heart once its empty of all that made it recuperate it.

She needed to taste the love of everyone to replenish that which
was lost within, the aroma of that essence what kept her alive.
She was hunting for love, and she would bleed everyone dry
to taste a fraction of what was spoilt with words. every time she
drank she uttered these words.
                                                 *"I drink to taste what we once had,
her love was ended but with words but she needed to taste love once more.
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