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 Oct 2014 statictitanic
Izzy
Sorry
 Oct 2014 statictitanic
Izzy
I have committed the eternal sin,

As I write to you with blood running down my arm,
I  beg you to forgive me
for leaving you with this mess
but,
as my final words leave my lips,
I become victim to those forty seconds.
22:34
But now it has passed,
And that time is wrong.
For another 24 hours,
Waiting,
Ready,
For just a single minute of being right,
22:34 lives the other 23 hours and 59 minutes being wrong.
It's admirable,
So determined, that for just a few moments,
Everyone will agree,
22:34 is willing to spend the majority of its life,
Accepting to be unaccepted,
For a brief period of acceptance.
So spare a thought for 22:34,
And for those who try so hard to be right,
That they are fully willing to be wrong.
Pictures; For remembering the good times.
Alcohol; For forgetting the past.
Boxes; For keeping old memorizes.
Shoes; For walking away.
Books; For getting lost.
Speakers; For expressing feelings.
Mirror; For finding flaws.
Clothing; For covering up.
Lamps; For looking for monsters.
Junk; For never letting go.
Bed; For giving up.
Flag; For fighting for my dreams.
Written: September 14. - 2014
I feel like a pickle in jar.
Drowning in salty tears.
Waiting on a shelf for
someone to want me.
To drag me out of this
lonely jar and take a bite
of my tear soaked body.
I am waiting for someone
to tell the difference between
a cucumber and a pickle.
Written: September 16. - 2014
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