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Ruben M Sep 2014
Crawling down your spine
"Here you are again"
Making us feel so cold
Not like a sugar cane

Worn out from love
Beaten from giving
I find no time to reason
But here I am living.

These are the chills of love
Sending shivers to our heart,
Don't pray that it will go.
It is the feeling that you will miss most.
Ruben M Aug 2014
Dead petals of a rose fall to the floor
Slapping the ground, energy grows.

Each object in motion doesn't follow a flow,
As it ages it goes.
Ruben M Aug 2014
There is an old blue man in my mind
Rocking his rocking chair.
Outside on the deck with leaves
Swaying by, it's cold but it's a cycle.
His heart is always dry.

Just looking down to the ground
As the dark sky torments above.
The sun sets down to leave sight,
Just like the feeling of love.
Ruben M Aug 2014
To say that you are not capable of hurting a fly are the means that you Are not capable of hurting a living thing; my heart was the living thing That made you smile, made you laugh, the detail that enjoyed your Presence and your company.

May perhaps made you cry, hurt you in plenty of ways.
But there was no sense to it, dear.

I've misplaced all feelings, I see myself absent...

My lungs just will not calm down,
Suffocating on the smoke from our scorching hearts,
Crying out of order the dreams that were occupied by doubt.

We will cry with no end,
In the innermost of our thoughts,
Time spared today that is used to neglect, and left for the past;
But It's hard to exhale,
All this smoke in my lungs.

I move as the waves go,
Taking me as they flow.
But the currents that we chose,
Are the one's that hurt the most…

Miss my words, and the heart that craved your love the most
So I'll let this bother drag us both.

With words as daggers,
Razor-Sharpened feelings,
Cutting the wounds that have no healing.
Ruben M Aug 2014
Our Milky Way has gotten too old,
Turned into rust by all our chemicals,
We've decayed and bent ourselves into a cold world

We are no longer acceptable...

This gravity compressed against our chests,
Hearts living in the blue,
Minds have been carrying the stress.
Putting ourselves on the line for less.

We are chemically created with the purpose of decaying.
So I'll blow onto this bullet to make a sweet symphony
Of echoing birds and the sound of the end to our pain,
Rubbing out pictures of our days,
Memories of us in daze,
Replacing them with bullets in our head



The thoughts that scream then choke,
Have evolved to the dreams that stream in hope.

Set to one limit, the line that we just crossed,
To breath dry air for the conformance that have lost.
We are an old forgotten creation.

The expectations are in our head.
...too bad we don't think the same.
thoughts creation forgotten depression
Ruben M Aug 2014
Almost like playing a movie from the middle
And trying to understand it as it plays.
It is quite impossible to understand some scenes
From the play unless you watch it from the beginning.

Sadly you can't rewind life
And you must stick to
What your conclusions have gotten to.

You may guess, but never be
Sure of how that person
Has gotten where it stands.

So until that person elucidates its timeline,
Or you simply comprehend them as they are.



As humans we are persistent to
What we want or need.
It may be material,
Or a simply contentment inside us.

You perceive someone's gloom in their senses,
But not the denotation.
This may come to another term named "love."
And understanding is the main key to show affection.

Just as logic is the key to be a genius.

— The End —