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Are these dreams self inflicted? Am I addicted to exhaustion? Are these dreams coincidences? Am I doomed on the instances that the universe hand picks? These dreams are a manifestation of my worries, my fears My tears are a 3D dictionary- a physical translation of horrors every sundown These dreams drive me to ******* insanity While vanity and shallow diseases plague those around me Screaming, crying, shaking They're breaking down my walls, painting bags under my eyes and a scowl on my face I'm desperate for alleviation In a nation so obsessed with pills, somewhere there's a capsule in a haystack Like an unsolvable math question A lesson ungraspable, darkness clouds my mind and feeds on my light The darkness behind my eyes swirling with unfamiliarity A rarity that I wake up not undead I'm screaming for help in a sound-proof room A bloom of skulls instead of flowers My sheets are painted blood red My bed never a place of solace I'm forever drowning in a sea of unrest Forces doing their best to keep me under I'm spluttering, hyperventilating My thoughts always contemplating whether to pull all nighters for the rest of my nights I'm eating myself alive and no one seems to mind As this kind of infliction is only in my head.
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Infliction
Are these dreams self inflicted? Am I addicted to exhaustion? Are these dreams coincidences? Am I doomed on the instances that the universe hand picks? These dreams are a manifestation of my worries, my fears My tears are a 3D dictionary- a physical translation of horrors every sundown These dreams drive me to ******* insanity While vanity and shallow diseases plague those around me Screaming, crying, shaking They're breaking down my walls, painting bags under my eyes and a scowl on my face I'm desperate for alleviation In a nation so obsessed with pills, somewhere there's a capsule in a haystack Like an unsolvable math question A lesson ungraspable, darkness clouds my mind and feeds on my light The darkness behind my eyes swirling with unfamiliarity A rarity that I wake up not undead I'm screaming for help in a sound-proof room A bloom of skulls instead of flowers My sheets are painted blood red My bed never a place of solace I'm forever drowning in a sea of unrest Forces doing their best to keep me under I'm spluttering, hyperventilating My thoughts always contemplating whether to pull all nighters for the rest of my nights I'm eating myself alive and no one seems to mind As this kind of infliction is only in my head.
these types of poems will be a theme here
miracles-by-the-hour
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
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