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Unravel the night as it nods off
to become a wall of darkness
until the sun looks into your eyes
once again
and you feel the pain of truth.  
Then tell me what is real
among the promises we have made
and why the blood running through our veins
speaks of us,
as our hearts are seduced.

How can we continue to live on the edge
where each breath we take
challenges our bodies to become
victoriously in control?  
When our hearts' wish to speak
of the need to see each other's face
and how love's flame  burns
within our eyes then moves
inward to the depth
of our souls.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores-Changefulstorm
In my room alone I cry
with a razor in my hand
sheets are all covered in blood
while I wait for him to come back home
people call me names for cutting my skin through
but.. don't they too?
Don't they keep everything inside?
Don't they cry on their own all night?
Aren't they scared of silence too?
Aren't they running from the truth?
Hiding their pain with a mask..
Doing favors like if it was a task..
you are a hypocrite
that's what you are
I may cut myself
but at least I'm alive
It rained and rained and rained today
Skies yesterday were clear
For me it was a secret friend
Who camouflaged my tears
 Dec 2012 Omier Vortex
Britt V
You think were one
You think were the same
You don't see
Me and you are opposites
You strive I stay back
You believe I device
You know I don't
You see the truth I see what I believe
You know how I'm still stumbling
You stand so tall I sit at your feet
You see brightness I see dark
You are happy I am not
I was yours you are mine
You stayed true I messed up
You stay clean I make mistakes
Were friends I'm in love
You are loved I was
He's a heartbreak
A death that lives on
And replays, still stabbing me
Right in that same spot

He's reality yet a dream
A dream that slips and fades
Even before my fingers tickle it's tangled up secrets
And my heart gets ****** in by his imaginary love

The way everything he is,
Makes me go "What if?"
What if he... What if that...
But What If's are impossible
They're just wishes
That can never be granted

And us
We will never be
Because he's a heartbreaker
And he has broken me
i have often attributed my attachment to, my passionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of the ocean to that production of most imaginative of modern poets.*
these attachments not only fiction, but also the creation of, dreams conjured up by the adoration with natural beauty.
my affiliation with the discovery and realization of, said thoughts in literature has brought the conclusion up that, if indeed such beauty does exist in other forms than on these pages and in my film casings, than it must be in the eyes of love.
*exert from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.
This was a writing exercise i did.

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