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in the pool we sleep.
we let the deep speak
and retreat into our shallows
with our last breathing
as deep a weaving as a bird's nest
in a dead
eye.

where is where ?
and why are you there, leaving ?
why are you wrong for me ? when the right thing -
is more than our ***.
more
than
love
?

why ?
 Oct 2013 Nebuleiii
Lizzy
When your heart stops, your brain still works for seven minutes
Seven minutes to still feel pain.

Then why is it that when your heart breaks, your brain continues to play the memories of us over and over?
An eternity to feel the pain.
Not exactly a poem, just something I thought of at 1:30 in the morning.
 Oct 2013 Nebuleiii
brooke
i'm trying
so hard to
be someone
(c) Brooke Otto
is a means
for metaphysical control.
 Oct 2013 Nebuleiii
Zila martin
Alice fell, down the rabbit hole,
Just like me.
She plunged too deep,
Too deep into insanity.
60 days in darkness,
Isolation,
a whole winter of desperation.
She was made up of words and sentences,
Strung together to create her story.
Her mad, and wild story.
Her loneliness is her bitter companion,
And death...
Death is a dream.
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