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 Mar 2013 L always
Tallulah
Salt
 Mar 2013 L always
Tallulah
I daydreamed my way to the sea
                                                             ­   and made a sandcastle my home.
four can keep a secret... if three are dead. we have this theory that clearly states -
" stars will eat stars " . let the record show that Irony is the genius of a petulant mirage. an absent god.
nevertheless, we are more.
trod upon, we expand to scale the prism walls
of lost diamonds -
up to a sun that spun it all,
in the kingdom of night. you and i plod through space
to emerge from the chasm
of our graven
image.
like an anonymous fog
on a lens of opaque
mist
and dark cause.
but some nights are
bright as day...

as very many days, are not.
What a beautiful girl to marry so young,
to waste so young.
She resorts to pencil thin features,
embracing that which is better.
Something stirs inside which she cannot comprehend,
something eventually will give.
There are things that she would never tell her husband,
the thoughts that disconcert her moral.
Something is about to give.
"Oh, Henry Miller!",
She bellows with a sigh,
what a terrifying man to break her.
"Henry Miller, Henry Miller!"
This will be what wakes her.
With bare teachings, he shook her perceptions.
He taught her of dominating aggression.
Anais Nin,
a lovely French flower,
with fair features;
She withholds power to ****** any man or women to their very knees,
"May I slip into someone more comfortable?"
Anais Nin's early life plays out as though she belongs to a climatic Noir film. I could not bear the restraint of writing about her.
Spending intangible dollars at the mercy of my ever growing appetite,
Instead of buying my ticket out of this perfectly advantageous country,
Which focuses solely on my beauty and money.
I neglect my inner advice telling me to drop it all and run,
To where I can breathe and focus on God,
Promoting a healthier way of living and improving humanity.
Momentary hope that unrealistically characterizes perfection
As a quality that I can mentally download and miraculously make the above, true,
Never seems to linger long enough to actually induce action,
Which leads to disappointment draining the motivation essential to recover my missing pieces,
Which pushes me to crave cash I don’t have, to pick up that dose,
That hushes the unwarranted guilt that seduces me into thinking that I’m not incredibly blessed,
And that I can’t handle what I’ve been dealt,
Blurs the doubts I have about my abilities, my self- worth,
Forcing me into a state of content that awakens my creativity,
While vaguely being able to make out memories of let down led by myself and my mother,
Who was a part of what was never good enough for my idea of a perfect family.
I’ve wrongly accepted that a mediocre life-performance is to be had while following the crowd,
While obsessing over flaws that are negligible to my true purpose in life,
And with that I’ve become stifled by the decision to remain effortlessly stuck.

— The End —