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Eriko Dec 2015
not a ******* comparison*
simply a free-spirited soul
*on the edge of the world
Eriko Dec 2015
the clash of frightful teeth
the piercing gaze of defeat
how the barbel encloses tightly
to the path which holds truth,
on the run, feet set in panic
the labored breathing and
knots rattling in our rib cages,
coming along we balance the cup
and try, try we must
to keep the warmth
from spilling into abyss,
yet always, like always
our clothes get snagged,
our hearts put into relapse
at every attempt to leap
over the intertwined barbel,
so difficult to face the stones,
the pebbles skipped across the waters,
the ripple of those reflections
the desperation to hold on,
yet never, never we know
always standing on the other side
watching the stones skip away
and hearing our own lives pass away,
the barbel cuts into our skins
and dear, dear it hurts so much
wondering for the entirety of our hearts
and the sands of our entity
Eriko Dec 2015
a momentary severity
in the place we hold so dearly
like how the sun protrudes
through the dark cloudy atmosphere,
laying stiffly by the soil
the grass enriched and soaking through
without quite realizing
we revolve in our globes reality,
smitten by the greed
and sweet, sweet affection
the stench of weary muscles
and teeth from chewing
all the **** which feeds,
take care, to each and every
pair of glistening eyes,
manipulation of reality, that's who we are
assassins dwelling in the crevasses
where the soil no longer holds
and flowers do not breed,
sitting in our thrones
and sipping our cups of tea
fooling that's a healthy thing to do
yet, in the decay of withering trees
internal manifestation and resentment,
the fever have spoiled in our very pores
choosing to simply ignore
Eriko Dec 2015
the glittering windshield
brilliant blur of lights
smell of December rain
Eriko Dec 2015
the brisk rap of rain
slipping down the window pane
the slight blinded gaze,
the blur of a glittering dance
as the past begins to cry
stolen clothes in folds
the past versions of myself
trying on the skins
I tried to squeeze into molds
Eriko Dec 2015
the solid ground
words falling away
drop dead weight
Eriko Dec 2015
look out for the best of us
the way the greatest dance
is sung to the spill of light
the anxiety tucked away nice and neat
tie it with pretty bow
stuff it in a box,
loved the best are those things
held closely to our chests,
cradle the box in the crook of my arm
as I run as fast my legs could carry,
plunge into the frothy shoreline
and I hold onto my breath,
feeling like those boxes of fright
which keeps me awake at night
***** away my breath
I try to save for the swim
across the cerulean waves,
yet the boxes only ***** away
the breaths I try to save
for the day I will I finally
learn to speak
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