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ryn Nov 14
Embalmed skin -
seemingly made anew,
yet pocked with sores…
from a life past.

The then waylaid heart
needed only whisper…

And long was the walk
through the cursed labyrinth
of sharp worldly things.
irinia Sep 10
the streets are full of hours
the hours filled with a labyrinth song
our faces risk a strange engulfing
we are so benevolent with lying to ourselves
my love has a dervish spin,
my mind is on a nightwatch
down the rabbit hole
so loud the world its disparate pulses,
unbearable conundrums

we should learn more from tears
what if my love is the worm
inside the apple
what if your love is oblivious
like an empty womb

all I have is this feeling
like a spine. of course
certainty is not in fact possible
especially on untouched
Danielle Feb 24
I'd wish to know, if we're only an idea of tall tales that meet the skeletons in both our closets and thus, it solely goes romanticizing my tarnished land.

In fury, my escapism brought me home away from home and there he was, he's the familiarity I'd wish, I never know.

So dear, he's already 'a home',
I'd live and die at times he's all I have and so this borrowed chance, as to what I afeared of, my love is building; a labyrinth, I'd never wish to escape.
Jack Jun 2022
Beautiful black and white,
tainted with scarlet red,
Lost and stuck
Between two worlds of mine

1000 ways to the labyrinth
finding the treasure of myth
dreaming diamond and gold
but twisted with a pandora’s box

Cried for help in a silent voice,
In the world of deaf and blind
reality keeps altering and shifting fast
movement becomes slow
left in memories
still young but forgotten..
Natassia Serviss Jun 2022
It would be when the air would feel like silk or like the hues were almost brighter.
It was when the hills felt lower and the low felt lighter.
In the speckles of day when I would sing to the tune of another’s brass,
Somehow my daydreams would still hold a conversation with you.
You’d saunter in with kindness and class;
The kind of attitude that sometimes I wish I had.
Your tone and diction were hard to imagine,
They lacked the luster and the passion.
They were all the corridors to every phrase.
They were all the oddities I wanted to praise.
I can feel the wax melt from my wings with just the thought of knowing you in abundance.
You are a Sun to my sand with a depth I should never learn.
You’re a distance that feels relaxed and at a level I could never convince.
At your hand would I bloom into my hyacinth petals or would my roots begin to rot?
Would I compliment your warmth by offering a place to rest or would my minerals begin to harden into a glass for my next cathedral?
It’s necessity the keeps the unknown locked in a mental maze that which I have mending to wrought.
Still, my stargazing will end when I fall.
Those feathers left to remind me of how little about you I’ve ever actually known;
And yet how bittersweet to imagine having ever flown.
Dreams of an Icarus, yet I don’t know which of us he is.
Nathalie Hill Apr 2022
she is lost but she does not crave to be found.
her world went quiet but she accepted it cause in some sick and destructive way it brought her peace and she felt safe in her own madness.
And although her days are full of tears and anguish... she cant picture herself ever getting out of this labyrinth of suffering she trapped herself in.
this is her silent punishment.
Lanz Gabor Nov 2021
in the blink of an eye, you kept decaying.
lost in space, and no one can help you.
everything in front has morphed like free desert sand,
with some praying to stay as sandcastles because of
a gust that only prides of insignificance, and is clever.
but they deemed it puny, and we dealt with their mistakes.

so we had to run to a labyrinth of terrifying ends.
you had no choice but to move further, away - alone
but to move was to be tickled by the dust devil,
and to stay was to mope in killing silence.
you leapt into both worlds in shifts -
to suffice yourself, even while stuck in the labyrinth.

every day was a mobius strip, and it stretched into months
of moving, of staying, and of waiting
until you discovered a sandcastle on one end.
it had veins of wear, but you tried to keep it *****.
lost in time, but you can help you.
and in the blink of an eye, you kept living.
for inPSYnc
eve Mar 2021
overthinking is like always being in a labyrinth
there are hundreds of ways
but only one is going to be the right one
nevertheless you have to go through them all.
finally you found the right one
it's a positive or negative outcome;
a mix of all the other ways;
and you kinda knew it from the start.
the next labyrinth is yet to come.
Brumous Mar 2021
If one
is to see
with smoke,

the farthest
they can go is
at the surface

If one
is to see
with mirrors,

the labyrinth
of the inside
can never be harnessed
I'm not good at notes.

(honestly, this doesn't let me put any more tags; And, when I do it says 502 Bad Getaway; It has been like this for a while)
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