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james hutchinson Jan 2014
It’s been thirteen years since that day
A cold beginning to that ***** called life
It started a trend of pity and guilt
Of laziness and no direction

Close to death and never knew it
Barely breathing
Barely hanging by a tread
The shadow man by the door

Thirteen years I have wondered
Why me and not them
Why was I spared?
What is the reason?

I was giving so much
Yet I chose this life
Filled with nothing to show
I gave it up without a thought

Now where do I go?
What do I do now?
How do I live now?
Can I change what I have done?

These thirteen years have gone so quickly
How do I know what to do?
Will he show me?
Or will he take it away?

The shadow man only knows
If there is thirteen more to come
Jul 2013 · 444
Untitled
james hutchinson Jul 2013
When formless bonds create vast passion
The world stops for a moment in awe
These unique abilities of souls are always tested
Often growing within from the darkest of places
In ways they stretch and twist all comprehension
Bending into its newest, and purest form
Emerging in even greater beauty than before
Jul 2013 · 378
You
james hutchinson Jul 2013
You
You are here in plan sight
You are hidden from all to see
You are my darling star
You shine the brightest of them all  
You are the most beautiful thing
You are so precious to me
You’ll always be my mystery
Jul 2013 · 997
tremble
james hutchinson Jul 2013
It seems to be a symphony created only by trembling desires that ****** my awakening soul
Although my breathless body struggles to stumble for a burst of tangible words
It is a humble infatuation of unspeakable thoughts that drive my fleeting heart toward yours
Like translucent images that impose on reality, they are like strings that tie our love together
Jul 2013 · 1.2k
unparalleled certainty
james hutchinson Jul 2013
Is this all the product of an unfortunate twist of fate, in which the people of this world know nothing of love?
A percussion of voices in my head act like a monstrous orchestra oscillating through my being without witness  
While unmasked feelings flare like wild fires
Instigated only ever so slightly by ravishing winds
Never extinguished, never challenged when faced with onslaughts of violent rains
Forever adapting like the gorgeous shimmering void of unparalleled certainty
Can we ever truly grasp the concept of love?
Jul 2013 · 709
daunting task
james hutchinson Jul 2013
Looking in all directions is a daunting task.
Why do I persist on achieving this mentality?
The perception of ones self is without a doubt surreal.
What can cause more distortion then a disfigured thought?
The pursuit of happiness seems like a reckless waste of time.
What is the point of living if you are only meant to die?
My vision of reality is clearly blind.
Jul 2013 · 640
Amongst The People
james hutchinson Jul 2013
As I stare amongst the people of this world, I find myself jealous of the mundane existence they seem to live.
These people are always moving forward in a fluid like manner, as if their destinations were preordained by some mystical force predating all sense of awareness.    
It seems to be as they say, “ignorance is bliss.”
Paradoxically, as I silently watch each person around me, I strangely find a sense of loathing creeping from the pit of my bowel corrupting my view of this world.
Every dull useless movement, every simple arbitrary word spoken, like they’re playing roles given to them by an omnipotent being.
They are a cursed being fighting against itself at every possible second.
Though growing in awareness each moment, they are still held down by ignorance through intellect.
Apr 2011 · 465
shelley
james hutchinson Apr 2011
Of all the worlds near and far, seen and unseen
The symbols of love are ever the same
Being shared with the old and young, with life and death
A newly found beauty that captivates our lives
Forever changing our view of this world
Apr 2011 · 658
endless world
james hutchinson Apr 2011
Walking endlessly through the world
In an apparent dream of distorted drawings
Where the unknown knocks once again  
Tangled thickets blind the path of observation  
Like the tremendous trickle of a near by creek
Distorted reflections of ones self become clear
A single thought of reality returns to me
Laying under our magnificent oak tree
There is you and me

— The End —