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I hide myself away so beautifully,
So I am perceived as an art form and nothing else,
Mimicking a mannequin,
An undeniably inhuman Facade upholds me,
A mere antique is all I can claim to be,
Inhabited in which is a crack,
That i pledges to veil,
Until,
Draps are drawn,
And amused audience embrace their ways to home,
I saw a man standing under a tall building,
In the hot sun,
His hands outstretched and cupped,
Anxiety showing on his face.
I asked him what he was doing,
He said,"My watch fell from the 10th floor,
I am waiting to catch it.'
I looked at him weirdly,
"But, it must have already fallen and broken,"
"No," he said,
It reads fifteen minutes late.
25/9/2024
Into the unknown.
My heart calls, my soul speaks.
Screaming for freedom,
With everything that i own.

One day i'll break these chains.
Take back,
What was always mine to recieve.
I can't wait longer i hear their call,
Telling me to take everything i have,
And leave.

Far away,
To be forever lost.
And i'll chase,
No matter what it cost.

I'll follow the sound of silence.
And scream,
In words that could never be heard.
I'll be misunderstood by most,
And in my fear forever burned.

-anoeska
~
The method is slow
And probably dangerous

From your telescope
Fewer and fewer places
No advancing horizon

Are you rendering again?

Two miles of uncertainty
Too much undergloom
You don't remember his face

It's war of attrition
A home for you
No place to run
No place to hide
To live is to die slowly

~
Down in the valley
She eloquently stuttered
The stars all laughed
At every word she said
Whenever she was bleeding
It stung a little bit
But when her love was leading
She didn't give a shirt

Who the fork are you talkin' to?
Hey, who
The fork
Are you talkin' to?

Who the fork are you talkin' to?
It's not me,
So I guess it must be you.

The angels gave their blessing
The demons were disturbed
Her guts were rearranged
To be the smith of every word
Those hopeful looking angels
Set fire to her eyes
She got lost in translation
And forced to compromise

Who the fork are you talkin' to?
Hey, who
The fork
Are you talkin' to?

Who the fork are you talkin' to?
It's not me,
So I guess it must be you.

She's the cause
The cause of all my problems

She's a (bad)
(Good)

Who the fork are you talkin' to?
And what's your lazy broke *** trying to do?
This is like, a weird green day song.

And it's not a finished version
It's not your fault

the lines on your face

are familiar seismic places

some are lakes

some are caves

some have seen their better days

but the thought of you

hiding a hundred years

of advanced technology

from your ovaries

and letting them wither away

keeps paranoia from lowering its

drawbridge
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