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Just Ivan May 3
I crave her affable personality,
& the words well crafted in her heart.

Share with me and end my unbounded ennui!

Forever yours, a banal nobody.
In hopes of getting past hello.
Just Ivan Jan 7
My purpose is also my suffering.

For I am meant for myself.

Structurally unstable inside and out.

Seldom does the rock choose to jump.

I am the tree that burns the coldest.

A maniac for purpose.
Just Ivan Dec 2018
Lately, I wonder.. whats really important?
I wonder if its love and or elopement?

I know the things I want but assume I'm undeserving.
So I keep my mouth shut.
Trying to keep my words vague and reassuring.
Pretending i'm not stuck in this rut.

I crave purpose, I want to take risks.
Intimidated by my shadow.
I slap my wrists.
can't help but feel hollow.

I'll continue to trudge on through.
Because I've been told, that's the right thing to do.
Just Ivan Jul 2018
The ash piles left from burnt seeds of my regret
Its soil for seeds I have sown with hope you beget.
Just Ivan Jul 2018
May the glass formed by the sand of my bones
protect your life from but a moment of death.
In hopes that my life has meaning after the inevitable end to my story. That even if I fail to live a fulfilled life my existence wasn't entirely meaningless.
Just Ivan Jul 2018
Hello, queen bee. How nice of you to visit me.

I see you everyday, and everytime my words get lost on the way.

Im speechless and out of breath.
I am feeling like theres none left.

The time of I day I see you there
Is the time of I day I run out of air.

Next time I promise I'll tell you truths.
So please be patient and come back soon.

My apathetic mug leaves you the first impression.
So now I'm stuck with this depression.

Knowing I am nothing and going through hell.  
Engulfed with regret, I dwell and dwell.

If only you could see what I can truly do, maybe I could be your only truth.

So wait for me please, I'm begging you.

Keep killing me with your smile, I don't mind.

Queen bee, until next time.

Yours truly, Ivan.
Just Ivan Jan 2015
I feel the loneliest when all I hear are my own footsteps.

but if I stop walking, I can still hear myself breathe.
And if I stop breathing, I can still hear my thoughts.

Now, all I can think about is how to not hear myself
What will it take to deny my existence?

The outburst of air left me with only the sound of a rapid heartbeat.

I am now furious, " Why is it so easy for everyone else to deny me?"
"Everyone else does it without any effort at all!"

I find my anger futile, I continue on my walk to another lonely place.

As I chug the water down, I can't help but to hope I choke on it and perish then and there.

Don't forget to leave the TV on so I can hear something other than myself.

EVERY SUBTLE MOVEMENT IS LIKE BEING NEXT TO A CANNON

Even the sound of my hair sliding is enough to want to cut & burn it.
Luckily I will only hear myself for a few more brief seconds before I drift into slumber.

I dream of being unable to die, not because of some witches curse.
But because she gave me a reason to listen to my footsteps again.
If I don't live I can't be with her.  

Her face and name are unknown.
Her voice is empty without any real noise being made.
I can feel and hear her emotions.
I choose not to hold her hand, I know its just a dream.

Waking up in tears, I carry on with myself for at least one more day.
If I could just see her again like I did.

Just knowing she is there only for me, in only my world.
I wonder if she feels lonely to...
I think next time I will hold her hand.
I will accept my existence, only for her.
Even if she is just my imagination.

For me that is enough, to carry on with the *Sounds of Solitude.
Turned out to be more of a story, but I wrote it as if it were poetry and that's all that matters.

— The End —