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sleepn to dreams splitn the seams on what seems to be unseen
floatn from scene to scene.
exposing the dimentions as an interstellar time traveller
high above on DMT the brains craving pleasure from the endorphine
eyes closed walking through rows of roses of syncronicity.
I see old growth trees from sea to seeing all with inner eys of sympathy.
our vehicular carcass is a calorie burning
cardiovascular cacarborated dream machine
Ice
The shivers descends down my spine
The coldness creeps up one you
Before you know it
The liquid nitrogen fills you
It courses through your veins
Your lungs start to feel heavy
Coldness Caresses you heart
CRACK! You're shattered
Millions of pieces
Never to be put together again
-Jenneil Lewin
Oh to know the*
mysteries of Jesus
Christ, the way
he lived, the way he died. All along with me
in mind, the greatest mystery of Jesus Christ
is what it is he
sees in me, not
my here and
now but  my
destiny. Nothing
I can do except
to believe. That
*is the greatest mystery
Because I know what you do
when the tide is yours to honor
and how my heart cries for that
which is not my own.
I breathe in your existence
while a noose squeezes harder
around all your touch has ever held
and gently known.
Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
I've been trying to imagine what you'll feel like
Once you've hiked to the peak of my
Demureness.
Tell me how many times you've envisioned that expedition
-Dreams and Reality
Fantasies and Actuality-
Lets make the transition.
I want you to feel what I feel like.
I want you to feel me.
My secret thoughts reside
in the backyard of my existence
where darkness cries out in shivers
clear to my bones.  
I wake up to find them
packed neatly on shelves in my mind
and wish I could just crawl away,
be left alone.

They come from my emotions,
dressed in sadness
with no intention of ever  comforting
what they transform.
There are days
when they make a decision
to rearrange the places I stand
until I am left without hope,
forlorn.

My secret thoughts are the lyrics of my being
which bid my heart
to walk on a white canvas
of the purest snow.
Oh the damage
that could be done
if I spoke them aloud,
my true feelings revealed
with these eyes full of woe.

I cannot bend or I'll break
so I hide on these shelves
in my mind,
packed neatly away
from all that challenges
my tree of life,
such as falling leaves.
My secret thoughts control
how my tongue refrains
from speech,
So my true feelings,
you will.....
never see.
Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Dust filled air and air filled lungs
Desert all around
I walk aimlessly as I am pushed
By walls of words, of sound
Buzzards flying overhead
Ready to swoop down
But here I am
Alive

Sun filled sky and sky filled eyes
Squinting as I look
The heat that beats down on me now
Feeling my skin cook
And words echo in my head
Buzzards over, sand and soot
And here I am
Wandering

Sand under feet and feet trudging sand
Legs longing to give way
Survive, survive, words tell me to
As my body, heavy, sways
And the buzzards tell me to ignore
To give up to the day
Yet still I stand and walk
Alive
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