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With the stillness of the void, I failed to exist.
My silhouette ripped away flesh from its mist.
My silence, my shelter, this singular state.
It whispers the paradox of truths in my fate.

In these depths of thought, as righteous as my sin,
Another me was synced into the symphony within.
This void, was a canvas. Our souls were the art.
Revealing dualities of my mind and heart.

Synchronized, and pure, we could finally sing.
I've longed for the closure I knew it would bring.
Here in the black where I'm vanished, I'm whole.
Past the infinite horizon, the home of my soul.

This silence, we keep so our secrets can dwell.
'Til the day we escape from the gates of our hell.
We are tethered at the soul. We exist hand in hand.
Protecting an existence no one would understand.

In the quiet of my conscience, you'll find the true me.
As infinitely clean as the energy I'll be.
In the realm I create to keep my heart from the cold.
Where my dreams hold the proof, I'll eternally grow.

In sync with my conscience, from the void, hums a tune.
It called me from beyond the dark side of the moon
And as I would chase, I'd no longer feel.
Heard a whisper from above say, "Reality is not real."

Then, I felt the earth breathe in my synchronized state.
Two souls blend as one, we now share the same fate.
Our emotions fly freely in the nothing. Enigmatic.
We embrace the obscure. We are lost in the static.

In quantum subconscious, the dark and light blend.
Showing every shade of me as one with no end,
Not dull and not bright. Not filthy nor clean.
There's black and white, we both exist there, in between.

Our silence, it screamed. Ripped fabric grew seams.
As sleepless as I am, in this void, I have dreams.
I whisper line the ether, that whispers to me.
Escaping all that is, to embrace all that will be.

Without need for understanding or firm beliefs,
I silently listened as the universe speaks.
I've seen another me in the nothing. Enigmatic.
Living in the obscure, he found a home in my static.
If I spread my soul out before you, would you stay, seeing all my light and all my dark?
  -Rhia Clay
Kyla May 21
A glass against the wall
It broke
Her skin
Slashed from within
Alcoholic disinhibition
Exposed her underlying condition
Of the urge to take, to end the days
Of a girl imperfect in every way
Waiting for a day when she didn’t wish
That she wasn’t born, she didn’t exist
Kyla May 21
the tightness increases
i have to leave
wrist to elbow
i can’t breathe
Kyla May 21
How do I end?
The visceral shudder
The urge
Replaying the car crunching
Letting go of the wheel
Lying in a stream letting the water wash by
Tracing the veins in my arm with a scalpel
Red spilling out
Cleaning
Purging
Arms out, in a cross
But this one selfish
The depression runs deep
Death, the cure
Kyla May 21
They both stopped my tears from running
Smiled fondly as they caught them in their tracks
Unable to stem the flow
Unwilling to let them fall
But my cause, you cannot be the cure
but you look so beautiful when you cry
I don’t know if you ever listened to the sky

when it gets hungry.

It growls.
It rumbles.
Even roams.

It sits in the dark,
contemplating what it wants.

Then,

Boom.

Thunder hits
without warning.

At some point,
we've all been there
hungry, with no idea
what we want to eat,
no one to ask,
everything sounding good.

Thunder hits again.

The hush left to whisper
between lips,
******* in air.

It’s enough to make you mad.

The rain doesn’t wait.
The lightning
not knowing where to begin.

Hunger waits for release.

I am the moment
that waits for you

in-between
EJ Crowe May 20
"Sugar It Is"
By E.J Crowe

I sit there at my dinner table
under the flickering bulb of the lamp.
My eyes—heavy.
My heart—corrosive.

I grab my coffee,
staring at my gruesome reflection
in the cup.

I don’t like what I see.
A man who's given up.
A man who used to be a lion...
but now resembles a lamb.

I throw my cup—
BOOM. CRASH.
Glass echoes in my skull
like a banshee's scream,
lingering,
filling my soul with acid and rot,
venom and hate.

I fall to the floor,
tearing up.
“I—
AM—
BETTER!!”

The light flickers out.
Dead.
Casting elongated shadows
across the wall.

I laugh.
I reflect.
I rejoice.

My life is far from perfect.
Since I was a young man—
filled with **** and fury—
I was labeled damaged goods.

A young man ****** at the world.
****** at school.
****** at my parents.
My foster home.
My life.

But no one takes credit
for the very monster they created.
Guilt shifting
like a sideshow
on a busted projector—
society projecting
its insecurities onto me.

But I smile.

I pick up the shattered glass.
Too numb to feel.
A piece slices my hand—
I stare at the bright red
bleeding in the dark kitchen,
reminding me—
I’m only human.

I grab another cup of coffee.
And instead of sugar...
I put in crushed Percs.
…I mean Oxys.
…I mean Adderall.
…I mean—
sugar.

I’m not that beast anymore.

I’m me.
Broken.
Beautifully flawed.
A human.

Sugar it is.
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