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I am no poet nor elysian saint. I am nothing more than a living record of transgressions: odes and testaments of tarnished gold intentions. it is for naught: sincere folly to search for an elusive inner meaning. I cannot ascertain if any exist. take heed to proceed with caution there are years which answer; providing insight, clarity, a gateway to serenity. yet there are the years yielding naught but empty questions e   c  h o      i     n   g soundlessly across the starless horizon. these hands are riddled with memories of all that I burnt, broke and dismantled. scorch marks embellish my skin: lamenting cries tasting of ashes and insidious intent. whenever home is no longer hospitable; the foundation crumbling under derelict decay and dilapidated compassion. empathy common sense. boundaries. where does one begin unravelling the shards of broken bonds, presuming to eradicate the distorted fragments of fermented claws, kisses, and teeth? I am a storm with skin: volatile, tempestuous, forever untamed by human hands. do not misinterpret the agelessness of my Soul as a catalyst for destruction. chaos is no longer the joy in my heart.
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Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
to the coalmines with hearts of gold
I am no poet nor elysian saint. I am nothing more than a living record of transgressions: odes and testaments of tarnished gold intentions. it is for naught: sincere folly to search for an elusive inner meaning. I cannot ascertain if any exist. take heed to proceed with caution there are years which answer; providing insight, clarity, a gateway to serenity. yet there are the years yielding naught but empty questions e   c  h o      i     n   g soundlessly across the starless horizon. these hands are riddled with memories of all that I burnt, broke and dismantled. scorch marks embellish my skin: lamenting cries tasting of ashes and insidious intent. whenever home is no longer hospitable; the foundation crumbling under derelict decay and dilapidated compassion. empathy common sense. boundaries. where does one begin unravelling the shards of broken bonds, presuming to eradicate the distorted fragments of fermented claws, kisses, and teeth? I am a storm with skin: volatile, tempestuous, forever untamed by human hands. do not misinterpret the agelessness of my Soul as a catalyst for destruction. chaos is no longer the joy in my heart.
June 22nd, 2019 I never meant to hurt you. please know this. © kalica calliope delphine
infiniteheights
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Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
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