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Oct 2020 · 80
Toxic Tea
Reut Gare Oct 2020
I tried to turn poison into tea, and I sipped it slowly
As it was burning my throat, I thought it would ultimately cure my soul
I confused it’s toxins for sugar
And let that poison pour down my throat and seep into my chest
It was painful, and my heart could barely bare the agony
But at the same time I couldn’t get enough  , it was my love’s potion
I continued to sip the tea, and I felt my heart slowly shutting down
I didn’t want to waste what took so long to brew, but it’s bitterness masked all which was sweet
But even after realizing I was sipping a glass of diluted poison, trying to let go and letting that glass break, was still exceedingly more painful then the burning sensation in my chest.
Feb 2015 · 812
Unforgotten
Reut Gare Feb 2015
I cry a bitter river of tears
To be drowned when I wake
Running from the undeniable
Falling under temptations
Bindging on excuses
Forgetting the past
Denying the facts
Reality bare
An outspoken obsession
Standards never met
Forever wanting change
An overdose of hatred
Existence buried beneath rubble
Sadness masked in disguise
But the cycle keeps constant rotation
Dictating my happiness
Blockading my freedom
Trapped in a self formed bubble of destruction
Scarred from the open wounds from the unforgettable      
Praying for the pain to fade      
A blackened mirror in reflection
A jail cell of towering emotions
Locked by the key of society's sanity
Dec 2014 · 442
The Novel of Life
Reut Gare Dec 2014
Life as to novel; read ambiguously. An unwritten mystery yet to be solved. A work in progress, the outcome undetermined. An adventure of a lifetime; one lifetime to explore. New chapters come with changes, rising and falling.The plagiarized are forgotten, take a trip out of the lines. Destiny dependant on the beholder, influenced by the retriever. Possibilities are infinite; choose as pleased. Once published, irreversible.
Dec 2014 · 382
Perfect
Reut Gare Dec 2014
Perfection: a misconception. A myth forced upon given life. Fault is inevitable; what is faultless, only pretend. A disease deadly to the mind, a cure hidden beneath our shadows. Everlasting until the end of human existence. The mindset contagious; deceitful, yet intriguing. The human race born vulnerable to this apocalypse of oblivion. Always searched for, never to be found. To the death of society’s “perfect” image, only the blind will survive.

— The End —