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  Dec 2019 Frey Adirhe
Kafka Joint
This health advice
Is better than a few:
I should sleep more,
And probably with you.
Frey Adirhe Nov 2019
Should I open the blinds and light this facade?
Sorry to correct you, but I distinctly could recall,
Despite any disdain for sunburn, you yearn for some warmness,
Do you think it's fine for you if I nudge your stance?
And will it be nice if we can go back again?
Maybe omitting stuffs that got us going in the first place,
I personally will bet that even in another dimension,
To them, whom I normally deride,
Any circumstances, should they not relay another morbid jokes against,
At least a caliber of utmost existence,
Would clash even if the intention is the least favorable,
"Intrepid sailor, O, the most inconvenient, but the space will be ready shortly"
I might think about your longing sigh,
Or your unrepentant glare...

Was the distance difficult?
Was the separation hurtful?
For someone who had answers to anything,
Describe to me how to ease the impossible,
How to grasp the utmost destitute,
With the chance of falling in again,
Is it worth experiencing it all again?

I'm asking on behalf of when,
I witnessed myself,
Repeating of what might be our distance worth of farewell,
And it will never be able to illustrate,
Our distance worth of farewell,
For the disaster loops that you ignited from,
Spare me words for word's sustenance,
What constitutes of another page,
With the chance of falling in again,
Is it worth experiencing it all again?
Being human is extremely complicated, falling to the same traps after being reminded not to? Can relate
Frey Adirhe Oct 2019
Muffled sighs and pity cries, blinking along with the,
Newly untangled blinds
As flying separate shields illuminated by the sunlight within
Haze and cross-around stars and departed ambience,
Masking our wrinkles and glassy eyes
Decorating our limbs for the next rounds of,
Blinking lies and astuary promise, shall we dig our memory again?
Instead of reflecting, it would be my pleasure to be bestowed upon,
Proof of innocence and proof of allegiance
Even though it has been almost a second ago, since my last try...

Seeking admissions of relentment proves us a lost cause,
Even though, we'll be always by your side
When you call
We'll be here
We'll be near

Prove us right? We'll be visiting some of our bloods detached
Nothing some sort of inherently dear to our highness fear
Deciding to depart and abandon crumbling gates, not for the first time
Tainting our disengagement and sprawled scent
For no any discerning leads and logic, we'll be returning to you
Asking to the abyss, for some scenery of habits and routinity,
Avoiding every siren singing about,
Matters of eternity and entropy
When we open our lids, we'll be welcoming...

Light years ahead of mutiny,
Now we've come around to the same point where we made,
Some sort of above-all armours and odds and ends,
Finally breach the point of hesitance and pride,
Maybe should've stood there and should've not stare
My temple is lying against your overworld
Sort of bounded, neverthless infinite cause
Starry nights and marine lights among these cold chimes
Better off maybe you draw me your nightmares,
On my palm
On your calms

Seeking victories among some gale force proves us as another blink,
Even though, now I'm by your side
When you call
I'm finally here
I'm finally near
I never remember the last words I said to her, but I imagine it's the similar sentiment as his last words to me
Frey Adirhe Oct 2019
Few rules of the careless rapid streams
Without change of pace, as they sink some rubble in
It's the mainframe of the bitter squeal that you let out with,
Secondary values, disregard the secondary values
It's the copacetic sigh, isn't it?
You declare that it's debonaire, you admit that it's labourous

Had happened sometime in my youth
Have been happening since that other times, when you were dissipated
Will have happened in sometimes, by the time of your departure

Fabled means of cornered whims trade themselves for gust of winds
I yearn the tranquility of static clouds, but all beneath my skin is mere rush of turbulent doubt
Beam of clashing has sheepishly disclosed to me,
"I can't stand this anymore, sincere mourn for your fate enclosed"
Maybe, just maybe,
All the least that are kind enough not to fail,
These zealous arms, these meticulous arms, these fervent chants,

Where the ocean brings me, why should it matter to me?
It barely bears any form of tangency to me,
Barely any compromised concern, adequate enough for some gravity of proof
Minuscule enough, but daydreaming is an expansive reality
The least I look back in anger, for some restless ticks, instead of upholding ridiculous rules,
The more I will wail, the less I will wound

Waves bring each one of us chances, upon waves clash each one of us senseless
Upon reflection as it refuses us of imminent reborn
March in this ephemeral night, hope as universe alligns this time
"Or maybe another time, or maybe another time"
It's the static flame, isn't it?
You declare that it's significant, you admit that it's incurable
I'm working on it

- Conceptual Romance, Jenny Hval, 2016
Frey Adirhe Sep 2019
Advesarity consumed their unwilling fidelity
When traps and weapons emerge from its deformity
Becoming mortal enemy hits me harder than this distant identity
Fervently latching to me, imposing some closed-caused authority
In this dense haze of trees, masked perpetrators are high on their legacy
Legacy imprints self-esteem, potent drugs, but never talked about
View me as a punching bag or a litter box for communal deviance

My lovely margins keep being reinstated
Hail these double sided blades as irreplaceable
Close encounter with nature but ephemeral nights are our boundaries
Turbulent morning haze and filaments trip my appendages and rip it
Among the suspects, among forest whispers, potent but hidden between shadows
They view us as a submissive vessels for so called reluctant state of shows

When did the turnover happen?
Striding my stance quietly before waves consume me
Where did the roulette take place?
Deciding on who will stand in the front and spotlight
What base did the society decide on the course of my skin?
Deliriously, prancing on my left foot since I was never enough
Early youths have decided to view me as the carrier and the cause

Truly crash me hard enough, for these, born with double edge calls
Truly drive me close enough, isolation and constellation derive my sudden change of identity
View me quick enough, so my breathe will arrive sparse enough
View us low enough, so our garbs will distract lowly eyes
I'm working on it

-Conceptual Romance, 2016

— The End —