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Sumariu 20h
Let me flick your columns, let me move your rows.

Let me caress your corners so your edges can go.

I love how it feels to go through your motions.

I can do a six on six or a two on two but, my real skill comes in the triple digits.

Warp my mind and tangle my fingers.

I love your complexity, you got me hooked.

I love to play with the box.

I will forever continue to be a rubicks cuber.
Anya 3d
I have a box
A nice cozy box
I try to make my way to the
But...I never make it

That doesn’t matter
It’s still fun to try
To push my limits


Still in never out
I won’t go out
I. Can push
But I. Cannot
Go out

Because it’s warm and cozy in this box
I know what I can do,
I know,
The extent of my abilities

Why should,
I push through?

You’ll be regretting those words,
One day
She tells me

I don’t care

But what if
Your protected world




Going left a smile
green* bluesy* drift
Getting out of debt
The heartedly so flowery
rosy ring around
Gifted box
*Valentine Rosy*

I box heads over
puppy tails
cozy firey
Love diary doing the
Bow Wow parade
Those red hot lips
she's... the... lie...
The hue (Anchor- Blue)
Gotcha  "Eyes Baby blue

To cross my red heart
And hope not to die
The Lady's
finger (Godiva)
  I-spy finger*
Heartless Diva
The fork of the road

Lies of the
dead ringer
He points his finger
Face to two face

a car crash just a dash

Her beats and hearts

What a crush to her
Tell me sweet lies
         I box gift
Oh! Yes you're
Like the scoundrel
The damsel in distress
sweet morsel

I sir box like spots spread
Like the (Chickenpox)
Hearing lies tons of
Like Botox Plastic
I-box ties
Hallmark, I love you lies
Superman Clark
Outfoxed the ballpark

Little lies blue
big shark
Smartphone I Sir bark
Red Valentine love walk
People are the luckiest
      I- wish
Close your eyes sweet lies

Sweet I-Box in Trio

CEO Watching "TV FIO"  
Podcast little lies turn
into big lies
Ballot Political list

Romantic cutout card lies
Tell me, Little Lies he trips
Electric lips music chair
Open eyes full shut lips
This is a little thought turn into a big I box cut out cards I seem to like the most Sweet Valentine or a little lie lets breathe remembering the classics romantically crossing the Atlantic the truth and lies can catch a moment hold onto them electric lips will win
Penne 7d
Rough, sandy
Malodors of Brandy
Unlimited space
Yet strangling

Dark, hollow
Look again
Fell deep in the hole
Cannot breathe in this loophole

Wind wafting through its cardboard
The more I think about it
The cooler it gets

I had one similar
When I was just a mere familiar
Horsing around it as if it was my home
What made it comfortable
It was always locked
It was always not a liar

It was better than anyone
I do not know what kind of sorcery it used
But it always eased my fuse
When I am confused, in a ruse
I can breathe after all

You can imagine anything there
Flap its sides as if you are in a plane
You can paint animals, forests anytime
Unlike reality

Turn it into castle
Or a storage of treasure
A hideout
Military base
Safe and sound

Quiet, does not shout
Does not turn angry
Cut, it will not yell
Not misunderstanding
Attachment syndrome with a non-living thing
So are these ghosts surrounding

My philosopher's brain is no match for society
Add that with my dash of absolutism
I played along with the appropriatey

But why, did it betray me now?
The more I stayed
The more I get scared
Tsunami of bad dreams slapped me
Cannot get out
But nowhere to shelter to

Feeling I do not need aid
It is better to sabotage my faith
On my own
Than admitting that I am terrified
Sensitive like the morning flower
Than to be hurt by the outside
Than involving anyone
Since everybody around me are dunces

So stay
Once more
Get this occupied
Even if it is already roaring to break free

Where no one will see me
See me be myself
Abnormal self
Weeping, childish self
And come back again and again
Anita Feb 2
There's a heart-shaped box
Sitting on my front porch
I do what I need to do, the unorthodox
And take it far from my home

I go to school the next day,
Keeping the unwanted feelings at bay
Standing near my locker,
With a note in hand

34 steps right....
2 steps forward...
19 steps down...

There's a heart-shaped box
Sitting on my front porch
I do what I need, the unorthodox
And take it far from my home

I stay in bed all day
I sit and I pray
For all of my sins to go away.
A paper plane fly's through my window.

It's a conversation,
At the end, it says
"You're never ever gonna get away"

I know that this is true so,
I take 340 steps left,
20 steps back,
And climbed 19 steps up.

Till I was flying through the clouds.

There once was a heart-shaped box
That sat on my front porch
I did what I needed,
And conformed to the orthodox

And they took my far from my home.
This story was really inspired by Yuri's Story,
Yuri is a character from Doki Doki Literature club.
Euphie Jan 15
If I had a box full of wishes,
the first thing that I'd like to do
is to savor every breath and every
little heartbeat while laying next to you.
Eric Jan 15
Is it right to have suicidal thoughts?
And having feelings of being lost.
Stuck in my head reading the same passage.
From a note I wrote in the past .
When things were hazy, but still the love last.
Now beaten and torn . I feel like giving up.
I feel like going to that place ,
Where everyone says my past can be erased.
Sadly even when I do , it won't be like that.
I've done wrong in my time .I deserve some torture.
But it's all the same here Apon this Earth . It's all torture . Live everyday with stress and anguish. I'll die without receiving my first wish. Is it right to have suicidal thoughts like this?
Rowan Jupiter Dec 2018
a box
packed lovingly
from a mother
to a son
far away
in another land
he doesn't know

the contents wholesome,
inspected still
once, twice, a thousand times

before it even ships

a box
packed lovingly
from a mother
hoping it will reach her son
far away
in another land
she doesn't know
Julie Rogers Dec 2018
I packed you up with packing tape
A box marked dreams deceased
Bubble wrapped old promises
We’d never get to keep

I moved you in a moving van
Between a sofa and a rug
Both smothered, covered in the dirt
Of all the holes we dug

And I stopped at a stop sign
One morning along the way
Opened the door the moving van
To think on the mess we made

And I left you on the roadside
A box among the trees
With an old red sweater
Somewhere along route I- 70
George Dec 2018
I struggle to remember,
something I can never forget.
So my secret belongs to time,
but not to me.
I am thinking one million thoughts,
I tug, I ****, I tease,
sometimes with force,
all to unlock my box of secrets.
The box is mine.
But not the key.
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