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You are a novel
gathering dust on my shelf
but not because I don’t want to read
but because I’m afraid
to turn the page,
afraid of how you’ll end
I do try
not to be a bitter person;
bitter about the life I live,
the life I want to live,
and a life that slipped away.
I do my best not to write bitterly,
And it's true, I sometimes do.
I do my best not to be so bitter,
though I can and often am.
I wonder if it's in my DNA
or because of a life so grey
But **** it,
I do my best.
She bleeds on me
with her negative flowing jargon
that attaches like plague.

Words that dishonor my very soul.
Red corpuscles from heart
try to disintegrate its power
as blood melts into me
robbing me from life energy.

Ego jumps in
supporting her disease of thoughts
as I determined to survive reach for truth.

Positive words to bath in
and wash blood away.

Truths that say,
I am a smart, precious,
gifted and
deserving to be free

Free from the disease of my mothers blindness.
inspired by branded glaciers GE   Thank You
Pleas NOTE  I still love my mother. She helped me heal past life stuff and made me strong. There is NOTHING I would not do for her at her age of 91.
But it is important to get out to let scab form and not get opened again.
darkness,
*he doesn’t want it
the silence, stillness
the vacuum, emptiness
that comes with it
he doesn’t want it
then there comes
a little spark of light
that slowly radiates
more than the sun
could ever shine
so he chooses it
well, what can i do
bright lights are blinding
but there is beauty in darkness..
there is always a feeling
- of incompleteness
- of loss
that always linger in every part of us
that’s why we keep on searching
for something, someone
to fill in the void, the emptiness
within our hearts, within our souls
we keep on searching and searching
for anything, for the unknown
just to satisfy the gaps, the missing pieces
of our life, that we do not know existed
until we felt the ache, the hunger
- for the unknown
so we keep on searching..
He watched the moon,
As it became immune
To his galaxy eyes.
Silver liquid flowing,
The night's come to a closing,
As he mixed his 'sky dye.'
At least, that's what the stars said,
As each one rubbed his head
Goodnight.
Colored images glowing,
His eyelids began lowering,
As he, again, was forced to fight-
Here on this paper
my lies have no meaning,
no purpose,
no responsibilty of the aftermath,
no hearts broken.
Here, lies can be cherished
for the beauty they are.
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