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The nature of sentience. The desire for penance. Why does one behave?
From our first breath, were taught to reject, the things we always crave.

Day one: life pours into your senses and fills your consciousness like a cup, the clocks have finished being wound. Release. The game starts then. Beauty still runs rampant.

Dark becomes light, life become sight, you learn from all around. The water is warm, then a terrible storm, pulls you down to drown.

Day two: I learned what to love and who to trust very quick. It was taught to me. Like a formula on a blackboard. How to feel, what to want, what is okay to cherish. It never felt genuine.


In my home, I was always alone, love was a cracking whip.
A bottle full of pills, crushed up on windowsills, turned to a nasal drip.

Day three: I haven't seen my father, last I did, he told me what a disappointing life I'm living. Memories smell like fireball when he's in them. I still can't feel. Guilt extinguished my true passion long ago. Oneness replaced by numbness.

A spoon bottom turned black, burned by sizzling crack, fear took my life from me. I am amongst the dead, bound to my bed, i see no joy to be.

Day 4: I felt jealousy today, it festered in my chest. I longed for the warm and selfish friendships that are so abundant around me; I found something like it in the illicit. I learned to love the way 2 AM smells, and feels, like cleaning products.

Life will let you down, but wear that throned crown, because you are king of the known. What was, is no longer, death will make you stronger, but don't you die all alone.

It's harder that way. Stay to play, then let yourself drown
Candlelight dances on the wall of my room, it dances to the endless tune of my doom.

Wind breaks the silence that cuts me so deep, I am doused with sorrow from my head to my feet.

I used to feel comfort and rest the night through, but now I lay wake with dark thoughts of you.

I asked you to save me from the unknown of alone, but now I'm shaking alone on my throne.

My head, heavy, spins full of nonsense and greed, my heart is saturated with jealousy and reasons to bleed.

I begged for your pardon over again, it goes ungranted, I'm left rotting till then.
I know now. Redemption hangs in the balance between the fertile crescent and the great pyramids.
The Genesis and the deconstruction.
The dowsing of the flame and the re-combustion.

We're all promised what we won't find. That's why you build up hope and waste your time.
Your position as protagonist will have you looking for exceptions, but we're all just clay living in the third dimension.

Clocks twirl and sing to remind you to keep doing what you're doing, but you would anyway, so who are they fooling ?

They're just as useless as the dollar or the president, or the concept of rules to our residence. And you can't shake the feeling that removing yourself would be best.

Though you're probably right, because our stagnant plight is leading to the roots and dirt. (It's clear as day)
But no one can stomach this, frightened and ******, so with new ideals or meanings we will flirt.

Be free.
BLISS

05/24/2019



in death lies the seed of birth,

so as we are cradled in one form,

so shall we be cradled in another.





no reason for dismay,

no cause for anguish
If I could get a simple like
Just a little heart
Than I'd smile very soft
It would be a tiny start

If I could get a like
It would make my day
I would spread some needed joy
And make love come your way

If I could get a like
I would party all day long
And would hug my dearest friend
Plus, sing a little song

If I could get a like
I would write until I'm dust
I'd write a lovely poem
Read it if you must!

Please like!
A simple like can make a difference! It can encourage someone to keep writing.
Call me hopeless but not romantic
Chocolates, flowers are not automatic
Saturday date becomes mandatory
Celebrations are now obligatory
Don’t blame me for being like this
I am not much a fan of cheesy flicks
My love, why state the obvious
The way I look at you is so much of a proof
That I am hopelessly inlove with you
Yeah, another cheesy poem with inappropriate title.
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