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 Apr 2014 Stephen
Ghenwa
vices
 Apr 2014 Stephen
Ghenwa
let me introduce you to my dearest friends,
addiction;
sweet serenity
pain and passion
desire and love,
depression;
sadness and melancholia
nostalgia
the weight of the world bringing you down
the thoughts about yourself
anxiety;
your fast heartbeats
your breathless minutes
the time you think it's over for you
when you close your eyes
you're ready to say goodbye
the feeling of never being good enough.
i have those vices, i have those problems
end up crying in the middle of the night,
hoping no one hears a sound.
trying to make everything better by believing
it would get better
giving myself hope
when there could be none.
i have died so many times
inside of my head
i have tried too many times
to get out of my head
but it never seems to work
now let me introduce you to my worst enemy;
time.
ticking by so fast,
taking every breath of mine
ticking too slow,
when pain knocks on my door
letting the nights of happy moments pass by
and the night of suffering endless
but a second is always a second,
and a minute a minute
and time will tic-toc
tic-toc
till you run out of heartbeats,
happy or not
but it's all in your head
when you take your moments too fast and too slow,
it's all in your head when time passes by so quickly
it's all in your head when you die before you do.

but is what's in your head real?
because reality doesn't exist
and nothing else does,
everything is how we create it and see it
nothing is too real to our eyes and nothing is too surreal.

i know i think too much,
maybe it's because i think too much
that i have so many vices
and fears
but to get rid of those,
you'd have to give up thinking,
would you?
 Apr 2014 Stephen
reflectionzero
jagged gem, the worlds gravity
c
   o
        m
                               pressed you
of
c
     o
          m
                                        bustion and *fire
.

ejected
sentient jewel

twinkling*
and d i s l o d g e d.
You left, and I
lament the
remnants of your
scent.
© JLB
 Apr 2014 Stephen
reflectionzero
A poet in love
Is a match soaked
In gasoline.

-r0
follow my writing!

it will kick you in the diaphragm.
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