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My love it was never anything serious
We fall in and out of love
We are young and not enough
to understand all the forces we play
We play in a ground of mortal death
Love, I will see you
Will I ?
I cried for us yet you're gone
Rider of the storm
You're a dog.
My puppy. Naive and cute.
**** once I thought
now I ought not to think that way.
My heart knows it loves you and it will never stop, but my mind is telling me you don't care and I should move on. My friends tell me ur an ***. I don't believe them. Are you proud of me? Or do you think ur an *** and you want me to leave you alone? Unrequited love. or am i waiting forever like I want and you want?
Wrote this after my hospitalization in 2020 and thought it was ****. Dang does it resonate right now...
Zywa Dec 2021
The Buddha statue

lives crystal clear in the freeze --

melting in the sun.
Buddha statue made of ice in the film "Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul... geurigo bom" ("Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring" by Kim Ki-duk)

Collection "WoofWoof"
And so they say?
Drink more water
So I.. Search
Both seemingly and endlessly
across the Earth
Sorta like.. a new birth or a new born
that is being transformed
Though some may call it Déjà vu
Or quite simply
Old memories of me.. being
Which are vague memories that somehow came to be
All seemingly at one time after birth
And now my old residue?
Is the Afterbirth
Which in turn?
Gives me a reason or a aim
to cause me
to Lurk
Yeah, I be that bipedal with a purp
So that must be me, standing 10 feet tall over there, on two legs with a
So on purpose?
I just may be, the worst of the
Just like.. if I really did deal contracts?
I really would do work
Cause when I do work?
I really do
So I guess.. the occupation for me
to really emphasize pain?
Just may be my turf
And Fear.. is the only reason why,
I would ever blink first as I switch verse
Then slit wrist like
I'm suddenly suicidal
At how.. my thoughts are now idle like me going Psychø or Loco,
Just to appease the blood
And so that's why,
I ask the Lord to forgive me
As I continue to write Rhyme after Rhyme
Which may or may not be?
My 42 or 43rd verse
But only after I must first, skip the 44th, detour, and then tour, the Uni-verse
Even though?
I won't be the first to ever
Surf, or ever
Back to my old antics
Or find my way back to Christ
while still taking chances
And that's which.. or whatever may come first
Well smh.. either way
If push comes to shove or if worst comes to worst?
Then I guess I won't be the first, or the last to ever
I was in such a dark and unstable state of mind when I wrote this. I don't even know how I managed to keep it all together back then, And from time to time I still feel this way. Thankfully my current state has shifted over to being more positive and appreciative for just being alive and having my right mind intact
Chelsea Rae Oct 2021
Maybe we cry sometimes

to be able to see with fresh eyes.
Melody Mann Sep 2021
& when it doesn't make sense,
& the wind blows in your direction,
I'll surrender to your will,
For in your benevolence I rest my faith,
Abundant expectancy.
IG saw it first! Check out the reel @solaceamongsolitude
Coleen Mzarriz Aug 2021
It was a blurry reflection I saw in the clouds,
it was clear in the sky and as if I was facing my own body —
my legs can barely walk, my hands were trembling
and I can only open my mouth to breathe.

Though there are birds who prey on me, my wings have kept me on guard
and I stood still, alone, with my legs broken
and of little faith.

The world bestowed upon me was ruthless for someone as dreamy and a little in love as me —
I wish that sometimes I can be as hard as a rock,
so the world can see how cruel I am to her
and give me something that I can call a spark of joy.

I have beheaded myself from having to only daydream about falling in love, I have disconnected the veins flowing around my heart —
so it won't feel anything, but even the day sets down and night comes up,
I would still be in love and be of little faith, that I, part of a million particles living in on this earth — can still be held by a man whom I hold on so dearly.

Maybe if I would be less cruel to myself and nice to hard rocks, he will find me and I can walk again.
Maybe my heart that was made of soft cotton easy to be pulled by can be colorful like the blue sky,
and my face can mirror back the clouds' reflection —
and my hands can touch the end fur of the trees dancing when they see me in love wholly and less ruthless.

Maybe if I say maybe now, I can be held like I am a precious gem in his eyes and the birds won't be my enemies anymore,
they will sing wedding bells' songs and I'd smile in regards,
I will strum my harp and the only thing I can get by at the end of the day was his smile,
and that will build my little faith, and I will feel the love again, the once daydreamer, has now fulfilled her reality.

And I am back again in writing these, for myself while I continue to work and I sit here — in front of my desktop waiting for my reveries to come to life.
Writing from the perspective of Ruth.
Been a while since I last posted. Hope everyone is doing okay.
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