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jade Dec 2014
I wanna tell you,
But then I’d have to slay you,
Virtually and figuratively,
Unbeknownst of the lash-backs.

Words that are brewed,
Halt at the red-rimmed double door,
Floundering in a quicksand,
And desirous of a disgorge.

Everyone’s got a darkness,
That threatens contagion,
But not everyone’s fleeing
A grim spirit unaware.

It’s been a gamble,
Every resultant road in shambles,
An oscillatory labyrinth of pity:
For yourself and the Sinister gaiety.

A desecrated fortress prevails,
Ruins tossed over for salvage,
The sole surviving fragment treasured
For forging a forgiveness-future.
jade May 2015
all these cosmic webs,
yet our minds found each other
sooner than we could.

— The End —