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Rose Mar 2014
12:37am

Nights like these, I think. I feel weight on my shoulder, I feel almost broken but I think maybe I might be.  My fingers are so small and the days that I look at them I feel like they keep slipping away from me. MY tiny bones that make my fingers strong seem to disappear and the warmth of my chest go cold not slowly at all but all at once. My mind is feeding in all the imagines of gentle rain that was carried thought out the week. The smell of rain calms me and it makes me weak in the thoughts that seem to ease the pain. The pain seems to get weary and I seem to drown myself in sorrow and while the months pass my sleep last longer.  My words never seem to find them self’s while my mind rushes all the words into sentences that never come out of my mouth.
Rose Feb 2014
Together as one we could never face this alone
The clock ticks with the voices that yell at us all
Deeper they go and they cut
Drown in the same sorrow that held you down from the constant thought
“I’m useless.”
Playing you like a filthy pest
“I will never be happy.”
Screams and the raw imagine of the battle that was finally coming to an end.
I lost.
Rose Feb 2014
My mind is bruised for the better, it hurts and it’s sore with the thought of you.  My bones ache with the lost contact that even my lungs are fading in to the endless amount of oxygen around my body. The sugar coated words that remained engraved into my thoughts are nothing but a small sound that whimpered out of your mouth. My affection will never be silent and while your chest opens with a fresh breath of warm belief. I sit with an endless amount of useless air that runs out of my mouth.
Rose Feb 2014
Flowers remind me of you, pink and pure.
I held you so softly and hidden
No one will get to you
I thought
The deeper I realized it was not them that covered you in dirt
It was me.
Rose Feb 2014
11:30pm
2-7-14

Anxiety pools at my feet in a youthful way
A grin left from right and a gift that’s a breath of
Experiences
Compassion at its peak and a ******* smile at its right
Demanding its play in war
“I see everything.”
My shoulders are dripping in the deepest way possible.
Rose Feb 2014
the strange midnight sits patiently

I still underneath it

the mealting lights reflect and i see regret

reminders of the unbearable pieces left to pick.
Rose Feb 2014
Imagine all the mistakes that were all confused signs. That precious note that you left to allow everyone to experience all the innocent knowledge that you were simply numb was found with shattered fingers that split with the scents of those promises that you broke. That precious note you left was a gun that was pointed to your mothers head while she pulled the trigger.
Rose Feb 2014
The soft touch that hold displeasure
Yet so delicate and soft
Fingers mold in to a fist and the raw lungs you have
Unfold
So many morbid thoughts cloud my thoughts
Your fingers rest on my skin
I want more.
So much more.
Rose Feb 2014
“Happiness is only for the ones who hold it and use it for its beauty and compelling ways.” He whispered.

Grief covers his face that once held so much lust and enchantment; he once was captivated with happiness’s compelling ways.

“Is it even worth it, sitting around in silent?” His lips tremble and tears are smudged against his face once he attempts to wipe what was once there.

So badly did I want to express that it was worth it, all the aberration and lack of memories were worth t it because I was here with a my hands resting against your lips that shake with the contact that was driving me insane. We could be insane together, for as long as you wanted I thought.

“Let’s run away.”
Rose Feb 2014
The deep breath you take cracks  
Long left to weary and ache
The way eyes are growing with worn out memories
Wounds are weighing on you and it’s numb against my skin
You take my breath away in the most  erroneous way  possible.
Rose Feb 2014
My lips crack and the water turns red
Deep it goes
My breath is holding the morning liquor on my breath
A touch from you could only feel
Different.
Rose Feb 2014
12:06 am
2-8-14

Chances sit with a *** of flowers hoping
Laughs are tossed aside and wasted wondering
Fingertips tremble to an older reality
Silent misery is present and constantly swearing
“**** why again?”
Emotions are versions of human’s plays that are finally burning once again.

— The End —