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In saying goodbye, nothing dies.
Memories still fly, a swarm of warm butterflies.
Skin and bones decay, but memories remain.
I'd trade an open casket for an open mind.

We must move on, but in moving on, we must never be tempted to forget.
Our memories, actions, words have made us who we are today.
Oh, for what was I a boy, so long ago,
Dancing freely amongst the tall tree tops.
Greedily breathing the morning dew's glow,
Mind settling down, vast daydreaming flops.

Gazing eyes upon sweets and fruits of bliss,
Sorrow has it's days and merriment be.
As bitterness eye followed for a kiss,
Delivered confusion under my tree.

Curious rovers bellow sounds of bleak,
Hell fellows chamfer happiness askew.
Mind's eye worrying a shadowless shriek,
Running humming my innocence aflew.

Events that played out like song of sorrow,
Gift to thine eye and forgotten tomorrow.
My first Shakespearean Sonnet
In the cold empty darkness
one constant remains
All the memories are the same
Old beat-up wooden empty picture frames
Frame after frame
showing the same
Having in constant view
All that you knew
Showed over and over again
Might make one insane
But I can take the pain
Sure pieces of me
are torn away
Burning off like fiery embers
and the ash is flushed all down the drain

I pick up that empty picture frame
A memory I remember ‘Oh so well’
I stare at the blackened abyss
Sudden rage; a burning hell
Tear out the nothing that was within
In my hand I begin to rip and mangle
From the nothing before; after, nothing remains
Except an imprint of that dark rectangle

For that is what you did to me
that fateful day you left
You did it with my heart
While tearing it out of my chest
Not one ounce of concern you showed
I fell and gasped for air
Instead your things you packed and stowed
Stepped over without care
Remaining here trapped in this void
With all that is and was
The Alpha & Omega meet
Pound beers to get a buzz
No hiss or hum; No song or hymn
Can replace what is lost
Forever it’s gone from within
I guess that is the cost

I smash the glass and wooden frame
Tears falling from my eye
“You fucking bitch! Why’d you do this?
I hope you fucking die!”
With agony I scream in pain
Pick nothing off the floor
and put it back into the frame
just as it was before
With wooden splinters, shattered glass
I hold it in my hand
From way deep down there comes a laugh
that I don’t understand

I love you and I hate you
Everything you did to me
But then I start to realize
My eyes open to see
You never really did exist
I made you up inside my mind
A suit too big that doesn’t fit
Imagination; tried on for size
A sculptor with his clay;
forever tried to find the shape
Each imprint pressed just wouldn’t stay
Not giving up was my mistake

I cackle in the darkness
and begin to scare myself
Fear starts to overwhelm me
It’s a fear that I know well
But one thing that I didn’t know
Was who you ever were
I think I met you in a dream
Can’t speak; my words I slur
The meds must now be kicking in
Unsure and with despair
Don’t know if I am overcome
Or that I just don’t care
Written: September 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
a new chapter beseeches for the death of the character
anew; atop the flood of cleaner fluid
scraps on the ground for the coming of everything contained
splashed with the seeds of Lavender
it smells nice but does the body writhe in perseverance under the foot
or does the palate for the crusade of being lost at sea finally the
magnitude that devours the movement in incadescense
like the swallowing of a sun
slow burn and nothing left but the absence of something that has been so familiar you can only feel it when the lamp refuses to turn on
you're left in the dark soaking in all the times that were the last and when was the last palpable throat that tucked your wrist upside down and whispered
you're not in charge
to be continued, might add to it later
You are not a cloud
but you dropped me
like rain. And you
give me shade,
but not from the sun.
Hide away all the blue
in my life and try to strike
me like lightning
when you're really just
throwing sticks. The stones
are for the thunder mouth
words thrown downhill
to roll bigger blunts for syphs
I'm not invited to.
If I get caught doing a rain dance
the clouds will come. They will
still come when I do my pain dance
because they don't know the difference.
"Uninspired, lazy, and neutral. " my classmates
The boiling, bubbling, fizzling rage
That has learned to hold me tight
My face tingles with embarrassment.
I’m embarrassed I’m still attached to you.
From person to person you can’t look away.
Your eyes wander astray.
And as I catch you forgetting, my hands begin to shake.  
If you missed me you wouldn’t forget me.
I’d know because of the way the grass blows, howling in horror.
Yearning for you,
to love me.
But you can’t teach a rabbit to be loyal, that is just what you are.
From girl to girl shifting personalities.
Becoming what they want the most, but little do you know.
Little do you know.
I want
you to
love me
forever.
"He's gone.
You need to get over him, dear.
I know."
I mumble to myself
httpvyncent Sep 4
“I have been a hundred times upon the point of killing myself,
but still I was fond of life. This ridiculous weakness is, perhaps, one of
the dangerous principles implanted in our nature. For what can be more
absurd than to persist in carrying a burden of which we wish to be
eased? to detest, and yet to strive to preserve our existence? In a word,
to caress the serpent that devours us, and hug him close to our bosoms
till he has gnawed into our hearts?”

- the old woman, Candide
Her
Your voice in my ear,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back my liquid sorrow,
You post about her,

Your smile on your face,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back all my joy,
You talk about her,

Your angered texts on my phone,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back hope,
You swoon over her

I am no more than an ugly face with jokes.
chlorine Aug 28
effortlessly shriveled into my feet, nails are propelling through me.
they confine me to this unforgiving plane.
“I am so unhappy,”
but swallowing my pride leaves a film in my mouth.
in front of my mirror is a manufactured seat of chaos.
I decided to observe the disharmony sitting behind me,
it reluctantly acknowledged me too.
adulterated and cold,
I know that the nails will begin to rust.
Shofi Ahmed Aug 25
A house can be made without
   a president
     a doctor
       an engineer and without
         a tycoon.
But without
            a woman can't make
              a sweet home!
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