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Feb 2015
feelings.
why do i feel so much
i can feel the drag as wind crashes toward me
but i can also feel into the
crevices of my metaphorical heart
why am i feeling
these emotions in apathy to the empathy
of a drudging drag from the burnt cinders of the cigarette
we are burning out
and yet we are not lit
the poison singes me
it is addictive
but the pain
oh the pain is wonderful
this masocistic sonata
lets the complex of the beaten child
stumble
holding together her life with tape
as she trembles
stealing back a sob
the knife in her throat
tearing at her dignity
you are in love
you are useless
you will die
tomorrow
today
never
you are afraid to die
the coward in life
sitting in the corner
feel helpless as the world lives without you
you are the fringe, torn paper of a tome
you have no story written for you
what can you do undirected
you are small
you are weak
the madness is cackling at you
how lonely is it
to be alive
the corner is dark
but the jaded world cannot be restrained
sit tirelessly and live
you have no control
you sit listening
you have no opinion
you are nothing
**** comes to you
your death is the pleasure of those who know you
laughter
it is the wine of celebration
there is no doubt
you are replaceable
you will be replaced by a better
you will be forgotten
no one cares to turn a cheek
no one wants pain
you feel a dreaded cold
you will welcome it
drag the silver
and bring crimson from its grave
punish your soul
you are stealing time from those around you
you are the burden kind people pity
they allow you there presence
you should grovel
no Stand
they dislike your inferior stance
be strong
No they do not want your voice.
you are selfish
speaking your mind
let the cracks deepen
there aches of nothingness deepen your pool of
pain. where is happiness.
happiness is a girl.
a girl who keeps her pain to herself
she is the embodiment of a devil.
temptress.
giving you the confection of love
it is painful to sit in her shadow but it is glorious.
you look to her
and her image makes your song warble
and her antics make you free from
the earth on your shoulder
yet you know she is dead
she is not alive
she has died long ago
her shell existing in the panes
atlas hands guiding her
she is fading
yet you will cling
you have tied your red strings to her
and butchered yourself with nails to keep her down from the lofty chants of silence.
your death bed is her
and you loathe her
you long for her
your love chases hate with a wag in his tail
how gleeful is death he calls
the tear of innocence is the price of a youth
and now you lie
shaken
ragged from her
and yet she is everything
the paradox of emotion
is the warp of wood and the rotten apples core
the gore of it all
it is full of mirth
fools are not in love
it is the realist that tumbles under its weight
you cannot box the feelings
or tell them what to do
trapped in the strings of a marionette
you are an automaton with a key held by her
and she will wind you up
wind you up,
wind you up,
to hear the same song, and see the same show
you cannot say no
you are lost
and numb
the lackluster in your eyes sings
sweet melodies of a mortition
and you will keep feeling
you will keep living
you will keep dying
you will keep
you will
Elliot-Jane Lewenhart
Written by
Elliot-Jane Lewenhart  Hawaii
(Hawaii)   
554
 
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