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I watch each delicate thread Pull away (Frail twine, The string of life, Warn from wash and Off white) The plink of one more Surrender as One by one Their little hands Let go under the pressure (Too taxing; Cracked glass Invasive fissures Wiggling their way Downward until Wrath forces its way To the surface) And prepare to lose (Control Tumbling upward in a Bittersweet cone of Fermented Nineteenseventyeight Exquisite wine Ready to shoot Straight to the brain Unraveling the ties, Letting the pieces fall) Myself in fragments Scattered upon the floor Of who I really am (or who I never knew But learned to grow Apart from. Caged in my fear Savagely Awaiting freedom So prohibited ;Slavery) Until I shed my shell (the painted Actionfiguretell Of the mold I came from. An assembly line model Struck in posses Clothed in garments of Rejected leisure) And feel my truenity (the gentle nature Peel out And bloom Like the dark rose I’ve seen time and time again Amidst a lot of pebbles Waiting so eagerly To be picked by The one naïve Green soul To let the eye fall In color And lick the blood of christ So tainted With illusion) ***** the finger Let the blood run out Bleed me out ( ailments birthed of a gentle betrayal disease my being. embalmed of any logic for sense the salvation of patience is left by the wayside; a token for those who stop to think ) My sanity ridded Corpse A poor excuse For my former self (falling)
0
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
I watch each delicate thread.
I watch each delicate thread Pull away (Frail twine, The string of life, Warn from wash and Off white) The plink of one more Surrender as One by one Their little hands Let go under the pressure (Too taxing; Cracked glass Invasive fissures Wiggling their way Downward until Wrath forces its way To the surface) And prepare to lose (Control Tumbling upward in a Bittersweet cone of Fermented Nineteenseventyeight Exquisite wine Ready to shoot Straight to the brain Unraveling the ties, Letting the pieces fall) Myself in fragments Scattered upon the floor Of who I really am (or who I never knew But learned to grow Apart from. Caged in my fear Savagely Awaiting freedom So prohibited ;Slavery) Until I shed my shell (the painted Actionfiguretell Of the mold I came from. An assembly line model Struck in posses Clothed in garments of Rejected leisure) And feel my truenity (the gentle nature Peel out And bloom Like the dark rose I’ve seen time and time again Amidst a lot of pebbles Waiting so eagerly To be picked by The one naïve Green soul To let the eye fall In color And lick the blood of christ So tainted With illusion) ***** the finger Let the blood run out Bleed me out ( ailments birthed of a gentle betrayal disease my being. embalmed of any logic for sense the salvation of patience is left by the wayside; a token for those who stop to think ) My sanity ridded Corpse A poor excuse For my former self (falling)
mike-finney
Written by
American
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
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