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9.5k · Mar 2018
Passerby
Sorry to bother you
but I just have to say,
you bear a striking resemblance
to someone I knew once...

Were you there?

Were you there?
Probably not, but I confess

that it's refreshing to see
such familiar eyes on a strange face.
I'd drink it all in
if it wasn't probably laced.

Give it time.

I'll build up an immunity,
maybe even an affinity.
I'll drink your poison,
convince myself it's medicine,

If I could only get a proper dose.
A spontaneous poem I threw together off the top of my head.

Trying to work on not thinking so much about what I write and just tapping into the stream of consciousness.
870 · Aug 2017
Moving on
Every day
Waking up in the same place
Same path
Same endless repetitions
A life I never wanted
Or dreamed of

But if I can hold on
Scrounge for meaning
Give myself a reason to drag my body to the end

I'll wake in the winter
Find the world's hard edges
Softened by a fresh blanket of snow

And live again
719 · Nov 2017
Holding My Breath
Drifting beneath the waves,
The water lifts me like a stone.
Holds me in it's soft embrace
As if to carry me home.

A grain of sand, I ride the tide.
Find a beach in which to hide.
Cast ashore, let the foam
bury my past and wash away my bones.

Close my eyes, lose myself
To the rushing in my ears.
Leave behind this earthly shell,
The world fades and disappears.

A grain of sand, I ride the tide.
Find a beach in which to hide.
Cast ashore, let the foam
bury my past and wash away my bones.
696 · Feb 2018
Simmer
I want to yell and to scream
But my lungs won't hold air
My eyes would flow like a stream
But there's no water there

And the days pass me by,
Though there's not many left
Can only breathe deep and sigh
Hold tight all that's left, bereft.
Alone, in an unfamiliar country, on the verge of homelessness, missing the friends I consider family.

Trying to work on my lyric writing ability, hope to come back to this and expand on it one day.
626 · Jul 2019
Limbo
I could say
that I know what I want from life

I could say
that I want life

I could say
that I know what I want

But I don’t
329 · Aug 21
Syntropy
Sand crumbles to glass
Glass births a stone
The Stone greets a hand thrown in anger

Hand becomes a body
Body returns to sand
The Sand holds no memory of it's maker
Wow, it's been aaaages since I was inspired to write something, though I'm not really sure where the idea came from.
Somehow the imagery of violence undone and the cyclical nature of things really resonated with me.
Hope you like it

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