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Apsens Jan 2018
It comes and goes
Those sensations, those blows.
My spirit found me again
Caught me off guard, didn't knew we had connection
It reminds me and remakes me again
Though I don't need it, I don't need affection
And I am concentrating on racionality to avoid my spirituality
But it's the 7th sense and I can't stop its *******.
It's a ****** battle against the unavoidable
While all I want is to stay in the void fable
It's so comfortably numb and the world is rough
So leave me be, leave myself, release my being, create something obtainable;
Live in fantasy, be something else, ease your ageing and taste everything reachable.
But not me, I am one without a scent
I am a black canvas trying to be a paint
Everything just disappears in me
I am a black hole absorbing all and turning it to nothing
I am hopelessness. Apsens and I are tyed together
The absence is what dyed my conscienceness
I feel nothing because for every passing second I am less and less
I'm the embodiment of emptyness.
Introduction to Apsens
Ofelia Jan 2018
It's during those lonesome moments that I realise how much you mean to me.
The sky is grey and the air doesn't get to my lungs, I'm suffocating by your absence.
The thought of leaving my house seems useless since you won't be there waiting for me.
A day without seeing your smile feels empty, and I miss your eyes even more, now that I know that I'll never see them.
I'm needy of the warmth of your presence in a room even if I've never experienced it..

I just miss you even if we have never met..
There's no love around
benedictpiper Nov 2017
Sometimes I wander
Don't really know where to
Letting thoughts and emotion go as I walk through
places I will not remember
Salome May 2016
There's a lump in her throat, ready to burst any second...she's getting used to it, or she thinks that she does.
Is all that she feels
Is all that she sees
Is all that she hears
Is all that she is.
Salome May 2016
i feel it...i see how the rain drops on her long hair, how wet her clothes is getting...but she keeps on walking in slow motion, deep in she doesn't even know what's happening around her, doesn't feel the rain. she can't feel anything. not anymore.
Hannah Gaines Apr 2016
Have you ever get the feeling
that your alone?
That emptiness inside
you try to get rid of

Sure you have friends
But they only help a little
You might wonder
"Whats wrong with me?"

You can;t get rid of it
No matter how hard you try
How can you get rid of it?
Its a mystery
"What is your talent? Can you show me?" He asked me, obliviously.

"My affinity isn't something that can be seen." I replied. "It isn't a fancy circus trick, like juggling, nor is it the astonishing spectacle of a painting. It isn't the beauty of a voice, or the magnificent sound of music to the ears. My ability is from the inside, from the way one simple sentence could turn your whole life around. It's the way words could understand you like nobody ever can, the way quotes or phrases fill the emptyness of your heart, and the way it awakens a sensation you may have never been able to feel before. So, no, I cannot show you what my talent is, as it is the way I can transfer a set of emotions to you with just the enunciation of a word."

And with that, I, yet again, rendered another soul speechless.
You know what the worst thing about feeling empty, while being in pain is? It's the fact that although you feel every single fracture and dent of your heart, you feel too hollow, too empty that you can't do anything about how you feel but sit there and wait for it to pass over. There is nothing that can be done to relieve it, and that is why it is one of the worst feelings you could ever feel.
Would you journey with me into a vulnerable breaking open in the psyche, where it is said that the milk of grace starts to flow?

Come then, ! Listen! No.Really.Listen

Can you hear the sound of this vibrant brightness?
Sweeping across the flower petals of this existence,

bathing everything in its bountiful cascades of light
ever emitting the low frequency wum and thrum
as it get louder, awakening the primal {om} of moaning,

Fall swiftly into remembrance of  this sacred landscape
Where the bound, captive, and fearful cries of lovers

Dared to break free
from their self-assembled prison
courageously chanting Ohm and Uhn and without censor

While liberation fills space, we begin to notice the root of the sound comes from the combined emptiness of these self-tuning, self-replicating, self-transcending instruments.  The space between the notes lingers in the  perpetually perceptual reality of exchanged and hollow breaths

The cosmic conductor reminds us of the rhythm and signature,
[4/4] A one, a Two, a Three, A. . , . . , . . , . . , IT BEGINS AGAIN

∞Movement and rest∞
Wipe the wet hair from your eyes
and take a   d    e   e  p    breath,

This is the punctuation of the moment
unfurling it’s lotus blossom
from our hearts into our being

Witness how the silence offered by such ever present union elicits glimpses of the Self above the self.  
Be still and die and such an emptiness will appear and you too will take part in the Sacrament.
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