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 May 2016 Emilio
Got Guanxi
Useless
 May 2016 Emilio
Got Guanxi
I want everything from you,
You want nothing from me.

I want you to be free,
From me.

But I'm imprisoned by who you used to be.

Now I'm left with nothing but what I used to see.

Blinded by the reality,

The clarity is the hardest thing.
 Mar 2016 Emilio
Chris Minner
Why take the chance
To ask her to dance
When you know she's a cold hearted *****

She'll take all you've got
Leave you with naught
And laugh as she walks out the door

Because to her it's a game
And you're one and the same
As all of those begging for more

So why take the chance
To ask her to dance
When the ending is already known

You end up dead
In the heart and the head
And desperately all alone

So don't take the chance
For once skip this dance
And leave that soulless ***** to her own
For Brian
 Feb 2016 Emilio
Got Guanxi
I am the key to the lock in your house

You burned a hole in my heart
Where the arteries flow.
And the veins are
blocked
like gutter drains,
No one can pass -
through the Red Sea,
A no go area.
A hairline fracture into a million capillaries,
Split arteries to take each feeling individual to the tips of my skin.
Still covered beautiful
but a nails cuticles,
Impaled on a cross resembling a torso.
Hollow bones that play like xylophones
In the tombs of hidden organs that echo
&
resonate through the decay of a necrophiliacs playground.
Dislocated limbs swing round a rib cage,
Splinters shatter the skin revealing the droplets of blood that pour like rain and tears combined.
Twist past as they gloop through a cutlets spine.
Always on my mind,
always on my mind.
Cobwebs of memories,
Embedded in a decayed gut,
Dug up like skeletons in cemeteries to find the remedy or medicine to plug the bullet shaped holes you made in my heart.
Part of a six piece series I'm considering posting  over the following weeks inspired by the song climbing up the walls by Radiohead - a feeling that never left me.
 Jan 2016 Emilio
R
Too Much
 Jan 2016 Emilio
R
This will sound stupid
and it is definitely dumb
but I don't know
how else to say it
so I will:
I'm just a little gold fish,
and you
are air.
Too much of you will **** me.
 Jan 2016 Emilio
R
Sigh of Relief.
 Jan 2016 Emilio
R
that feeling when
you thought of something
knowing that it felt good
it felt amazing
but then you forgot
you can't remember
the little details
but moments later
you remember
and you are thankful
so deeply grateful
because you thought
you lost something
you can't live without
except this time
it's a person
and not some idea.
 Jan 2016 Emilio
R
we write when we're at our weakest
we write when we've been cut open
we write when we're bleeding
we write when we're dying inside

Not all those who write are sad,
but all sad people write.
You may not agree with this, but generally, it is true.
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