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Kyle Dec 2020
Forgotten memories;
Phoenix's debris;
Change of the time;
Future's entwined.
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
Welcome back from the break.
Last time I checked, I was a social outcast,
now I'm a godless heathen by margins
too expansive to measure.
You expect me to do what?
Break down, scrape my face with a muzzle?
No, I think for my sake,
I will embrace disdain,
disgrace, displacement, as if my blood is
dependent on it, just less than water.
Welcome back to
the decadent disaster,
robotic masterpiece of emulation,
emulating emotion it once contained.
It was exposed to Alexithymia,
undiagnosed for too long,
and can't grasp that anyone might return
feelings of love, lust, or interest,
with any sincerity.

Please, touch my face.
Draw me out, as if your hands were the pens
bringing life to still frames.
Please, touch my skin.
Make promises that my rusted metal
must hold more than debris.
Mackenzie Jan 2019
I know who I am
My moral's
Things that cannot shake me
But I'm drowning in my sorrow's
All of the things that continue to break me
I have let the bad things shape me
Mold me into a form I do not recognize
I know who I am
She is very hard to find
Under the debris and
The dark night's I can still see
My moral's
the things that cannot shake me
But I let the bad things break me
I dig and I dig through the mess
I’m depressed
My moral's may be something
I silently put to rest
Pauper of Prose Nov 2018
Dilapidation sunk its teeth into you
Shearing off your softer side
Exposing your skeletal essence
Which had cut off calcium from cows
Long ago
Leaving it on the brink of brittleness
As if the blow from a kiss
Would deconstruct to dust
The bones that once bore the strength
To love without fear
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
Let me hear
You are fine there

Hope to see again
Genre: Love
Theme: From Ground Zero, A Day In The History
Harry smith Jul 2018
So There you sit on your empty throne
Surrounded by a council of mindless drones
Who repeat what you want, and get rid of the rest
You've held such esteem since you've suckled on the breast
And now you've got another *** warped round your tongue
I wonder when you breathe if anything comes out of your lungs?
Or if you're just as cold as I expect you to be
What makes someone like you shake, I'd be interested to see
As blind as a fish and as mad as a hog
You find what you want and the rest stays in fog
you're a dangerous man, your types always been
Appearing so holy yet surrounded by sin
The devil's in the details I'm sure you well know
Well soon calls the time that you go toe to toe
With your devil's, your demons, your angels, your god
And then you'll be incased in 6 feet of sod
Because that's how men rise and that's how men fall
Yes you'll crumble just the same as the rest of us all
celeste fuma Jun 2018
And we trod paths
crushing detritus
of heart prints
that yet remain//
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2018
“Energy can
neither be created nor destroyed
But it can be transformed”,
Textbook says

Years after, I realize,
Love is that energy
And it can be felt, and

No one ever wish to see,
Debris of Love
Rubbles of Love
In divinity it resides

Paradox airs
War, for Peace
Fuel, of Crash
Let’s find a new way
To conserve the energy

A call for humanity.
Theme: In memory of all departed soul in US-Bangla plane crashed in Kathmandu, 2018/3/12.
lib Nov 2017
like a
raging fire
burning, glowing
wild flames
steam rising
crackling popping
red, hot
spreading uncontrollably
who knows
what will
survive, escape
amidst the debris
everything lost
anger, tears

and the
fire fighters
come only
to explain
“source, unknown”
Leal Knowone Sep 2017
Tears flow down her face.
Agony from recent past, she clings to like a drowning body floating at sea.
Useless debris.
There's a taste of  duality in all things.
A sorrow reality can bring.  
Though this is a mere moment in time it seems like it is everything. How does one gauge pain if it is something we hope not to be remembering?

She lets herself became jaded, a heart slowly turning to stone. Heading down a path she lets herself believe she knows.
She lets herself believe she knows all there is to know.
If she takes a wrong turn there could be more suffering, or more joy then she would have otherwise know.
Who really knows which way to go?
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