As we fell,
Into those depths I proceed to dwell,

The devil emerges from your delicate shell,

Only to maliciously tell,
This world to endure would become my hell.

Her dark coffee-roasted eyes opened into a world that vessels magnificence, it wasn’t the other humans that created on her an impact of difference. She grew up to love the wind, seas and butterflies, she caught the moonbeams when she closed her eyes. She isolated herself from the ones that commanded words to be spoken, no one listened, and without a single word she left the locks broken. What she felt with the intensity of solitude, filled her with meanings that multiplied in magnitude. How could she explain the pure lightning in her veins, she wore a pendant of the world map on her chains. She was made to do incredible things you can tell, surviving within four walls was never her place to dwell. Things weren’t handed to her and that’s what made her wonderful, street by street she discovered what it meant to be powerful.

Mocking her tattoos, “art belongs on the wall”:
the ones she built around was her masterpiece and never let them fall. In the end its the things that kill you that make you feel alive, sitting on the edge of earth on a swing, she lived until 1hundred and five. Time taught the darling, of things that were loved bitter and sour, she travelled through the countries and living by the hour.

She wore a wing on her wrist, to her acquaintances she didn’t exist. She loved cities that made her feel like home, even on the bad days they embraced her and she never felt alone. Her lust for travel was deeply-chained, friending soils that didn’t constrain. She passed through it all like a ship in its form; Beautifully broken, this is how the sky felt after a storm.

Her dark coffee-roasted eyes opened into a world that vessels magnificence, it wasn’t the other humans that created on her an impact of difference. She grew up to love the wind, seas and butterflies, she caught the moonbeams when she closed her eyes. She isolated herself from the ones that commanded words to be spoken, no one listened, and without a single word she left the locks broken. What she felt with the intensity of solitude, filled her with meanings that multiplied in magnitude. How could she explain the pure lightning in her veins, she wore a pendant of the world map on her chains. She was made to do incredible things you can tell, surviving within four walls was never her place to dwell. Things weren’t handed to her and that’s what made her wonderful, street by street she discovered what it meant to be powerful.

Mocking her tattoos, “art belongs on the wall”:
the ones she built around was her masterpiece and never let them fall. In the end its the things that kill you that make you feel alive, sitting on the edge of earth on a swing, she lived until 1hundred and five. Time taught the darling, of things that were loved bitter and sour, she travelled through the countries and living by the hour.

She wore a wing on her wrist, to her acquaintances she didn’t exist. She loved cities that made her feel like home, even on the bad days they embraced her and she never felt alone. Her lust for travel was deeply-chained, friending soils that didn’t constrain. She passed through it all like a ship in its form; Beautifully broken, this is how the sky felt after a storm.

To you
     who are afraid of heights
   Not because you're afraid to fall
   But because you're afraid
     you will not know how to get down
   Because sometimes you need to
     when you've been way way up
               You can keep chasing the stars
               But you will need to feel the ground
               Don't lose someone who makes you feel so.

Fear of heights. I have nothing to lose.
26/30

Things didn't start well today
almost brought tears to my eyes
not that at workplace emotions works
but somehow have to get back
in working good to bad
and bad to good all over again...
I have raised my standard pretty high
but now with mistakes overloaded..
I doubt how to get back
after a huge fall?

My performance in workplace is getting low..and I get that..my work is not up to the marks for few days..really feeling upset about it..

She fell
She survived
She stood again
To her
That was enough
Because at least
She didn't give up

Jump
and fall
forever

Crimsyy 6d

You are winter
and I always fall for you,
as Autumn does
when rain comes knocking
on its leaves
and soon Autumn and I
are lost in a breath of
fresh petrichor;
you are rain
and for some unknown reason,
I'm always begging you
to drench me, soak me.
You are a notebook,
often closed,
spine seemingly unbroken,
and I, a starving poet
ripping at every page of yours;
I hope you won't
fall apart with me.

I'll wake up earlier than usual and for a split second, I forget what happened 24 hours ago. It seems like a blur, like it didn't happen.

But I know it did.

And I can't change that.

So I'll throw on a checkered shirt and look at myself in the mirror as I put on my key necklace and rings, looking dangerous and ready to kill.

I wonder whether or not it's worth it to button up my shirt, but I seem to like the aesthetic of looking like I'm helpless. So I leave the shirt open to seem lazy too.

But I will roll up the sleeves. I'll always roll up the sleeves. Can't risk snagging the cuffs of a good, bad, decently fashionable looking shirt.

Pick out a complimentary hat and go.

Face the day why don't you?

Because I know I'll still end up crying eventually.

And I'd rather have those shirt cuffs in tact to wipe away the pain when I do.

I've never even had a drink. So let's get drunk on poetry...

This round's on me!
Sandoval Apr 21

I think the worst part of losing you, is never seeing you again.  For

us, there will never be any random unpredictable encounters.  

And the thought of not seeing you again,  even if its just far away,

lingers in my mind like an old book, waiting to be read.

We will never get a second chance, we are so far away, I guess

thats what you give up when you fall in love a thousand

miles away.

Sandoval

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