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My halls,
The walls,
my wicked falls turn'd from stone,
dissolved to nary a diffid tone thrown by ******* bones.

An amorphous form born from the aimless mourning that now has no space to face and call my own.

Telltale swarms of which I myself did warn would come,
Once and again I crumble from what once which I would succumb.

Myself. Dear. Gone.

I am,
afloat in limbo forever struck with what,
I Left only to silence my mind until once again,
I would find the cut.

Page 2

My totality revised,
Scratched through like the words unworthy.
Smoothed over the rough draft,
Autobiography progressive,
Nary writing another day's pages.
Eli Feb 2021
i loved you.
i wanted nothing more than to be with you,

so am i really okay breaking your heart like this?
intentionally playing the villain is just so much easier,
than having to explain a loss.

sometimes i think that i still do.
Jim Davis Dec 2020
Finally... she destroyed his poetry
Payal Dhiman Nov 2020
In the empty but crowded places
In the heart full of things and people
In the love that screams needs
In the darkness of lights
I hope I have that someone
in whose heart there is a special place
with whom the crowded places seems empty with just him and me
The needs of ours are fulfilled with love
And in each others happiness We are able to love our darkness too.
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