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 Dec 2015 Raymond Torres
Tristen
As days pass by, each word still grazes my brain like a random bullet being shot into the open, I hope it hits me then because then i wouldn't have to dabble in the words you've left behind on my bedroom floor.

I've become a sponge and all I do is absorb and absorb, and I can implore that this feeling is rotting into my core, into my being and I'm feigning for a way out of this hole I call home, the pain is beginning to make a mark on my bones, oh these demons oh these ******* demons, my head is their home and my cover is blown, Im yelling to death take me feet first down into the dirt because this ache will always hurt.

I've built up a herse, to keep the wretched curse away from the rest of my mind, it's already infected so much and I'm beginning to use it as a crutch but I'm clutching on to the fabrics of hope and I hope gods got a bigger plan for me in his rubric because that would be fantastic.

I just want to live in tranquility for the sake of my own humanity, but sadly I allow myself to feel, to feel burdens of others, my hearts too big and my minds to dumb, I act in acts of selflessness never can I truly be selfish but I think gods plan was for me to help the helpless.

They feel less and I feel less but I'm left with the thoughts of I am something more than I think I am and even though that message never gets through, i believed I planted seeds in all of you and they grew, for when my time expires, I've ignited some fires and those flames will never fade, they will only cascade the earth in light and warmth, spreading truth and wisdom and I cannot fathom the work of the hands above who has blessed me with such graces and honesty.

— The End —