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Fame Leanne King Jun 2014
Further my mind goes, than I believed it could fathom
Fathoms below even the deceased dreams chasm
Impassionately growing through and between atoms
To learn
There is no whole truth in solely words
Blindfolded, if your mind isn't where the memory occurs
So it's sure
We'll never understand more than we're capable to confer
And it doesn't mean, you can't relate to the way I toss n' turn
In my sleep
That it isn't the same color we bleed
Or that we aren't perhaps equally 'deep'
Just that we hold some nature of privacy in our thoughts, from any other's gaze
Did I mention it was books of seperate authors, though we're on the same page?
What I wish to relate today
Is I have been changing to date
I'm breaking, down just like anyone else
Draining my health
Enslaved by the chase of wealth
Smiling while we're high, but we'll retreat to our personal hells
The honesty is, I'm scared to delve into myself
Because I know where my truth gets ugly, and has no glamour
Not the 30 second commercial version of what it's like living with cancer
It's habits, actions and manner
Looming over my pride
Leaving a weakness in my stride
Making me feel tired before I've tried
Jun 2014 · 1.2k
Nocturnal Disquisition
Fame Leanne King Jun 2014
Smoke emitting from our lungs,
truth and lies dripping from our tongues
Again I will succumb,
strung out on a dream that may never become

Jaws as blunt as guns,
But used to shield wounds that I never knew how to heal
Wary to feel too,
unresponsive or despondent
For the fear that I may never come back

But I'm unsure that I'd even want to,
continue to want you
And use you to conduce an excuse,
for what's wrong with me
Transfuse my confusion unto you,
Because really I don't want to face the truth

Austerity I'd have to spit out like a strong whiskey

So truly, what's the use in this abuse of romance?
Advancing on a mere chance that your soul might want to dance
With mine-
I feel cornered, confined,
But dare I cower ?
Or feel empowered to believe flowers can sprout from gunpowder?
Now we're years past a simple encounter, now or
Never is a little too late,
ground work
of slate and mistakes

...If only I could promise you that it will fade

— The End —