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 Sep 2016 simple simon
wren cole
I don't know which voice to believe
My thoughts scream
-
I wait for silence
I sleep for silence
I pick for silence
I pull for silence
I claw for silence
I hurt for silence
I long for silence
I
dedicated to my ******* bfrb soup
 Sep 2016 simple simon
wren cole
I had a nasty fall not too long ago
And I'm left with this ugly scab on my knee.
When I showed my mom,
She said it looked like it was healing fine.
I showed her
A different angle
To see the rim of black around the top.
You see, she told me
"It's not hot to the touch anymore,
Just use some peroxide,"
But when she pressed,
It hurt.

I use some peroxide,
I take my lamictal.
I go to bed.

In my mind
I sleep under the big locked window
And take pills from paper cups
Under the watchful eyes of doctors.

When I wake up I remind myself
That this is not a hospital
And I can eat with silverware
And this time when I take my medicine
It is neither from paper cup
Nor manic handful.

It's not hot to the touch anymore
(But when you press, it hurts.)
Is that a gross metaphor? Maybe. Still relevant tho.
"Did you take your medicine?'
 Sep 2016 simple simon
Sam
Slipping away by the tips of your fingers,
Watching it go by,
It's beauty and grace,
Ever enchanting,
Forever beautiful.
The real meaning? Guess. It isn't what you think, or is it? Your welcome.
We began as alphabets
Two solitary letters discovering each other in a world full of vowels and consonants
Then we turned into words
And gave a meaning to the alphabets
I'm hoping that someday together we can form a sentence
'Coz that'd be quite something....wouldn't it?'
The world is wrong
And we live as if it's right...
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