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deyrah 2d
Those kisses, hold no weight.
Those hugs, they hold no feelings.
Those caresses, they hold no tingling.
Those cuddles, hold no warmth.
Those eyes... why are they so cold??
Those words, well they didn't hold any truth in them.
Even while yhu are here!
I am still alone!
Some times, love is not enough, not even the least, our human nature always wants more, t may not know what it wants in the moment, but... Our hearts always search for more.
I support truth,
in that,
I confess I’d rather
be immortal
& forget everyone
I’ve ever met.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wAmGzy0AJE
A whisper within the tall reeds,
                          as hollow words

echo though those static.


Yet ever word has motion
             on those unmoved.

Yet words can collect upon the cracks.


Weaving untruths between each,
              caressed form.

And still though unmoved.
      I heard the lies that started

as a ripple in a pond.

But made there way through
  the reeds that stood tall.

And I just gazed as the wind told me,
          that no matter the ripples.

A breeze is still made,
      and will pass through,
           the reeds of static

                               whispers.


I cried on the edge,
             knowing
             that I neither had thrown
                                  a stone of lies within

or that I had breathed untruths
that were
                wavering between static reeds.
Amy 2d
you say you're sorry
but you go back to your tendencies
you say you're sorry
but you go and repeat the action you apologise for
you say you're sorry
but i can see it in your eyes,
your  eyes show your true desires
not taking into account for all those around you
for your eyes are not deceiving as your mouth
how can you be so inconsiderate?
apologising so you can sweep the issue under the rug
so you can keep me quiet

you don't need to apologise no more
they mean nothing to me if you can't do a **** thing about it
I'm better off without your false apologies.
when someone says they are sorry but don't really mean it.
Folklore

Word
Of
Mouth,

For impressionable sons and daughters of time,
Children,
Tied like flies to spider web strings and mothers impossible dreams,
Wide eyed,
Lied to,
By ignorant ministers and cider soaked child choked brides.

Word
Of
God,

For Children
Forever dulled and cowed by the good book,
Heavy on this earth like rocks in sand and impervious to reality,
Wide eyed
Lied to,
By gullible Fathers and wine wrecked god bothered priests.

Hand
Me
Down,

Mothers,
Fathers, 
Priests and teachers,

Words that weigh me down to the past and to fear,
Words that chain me to home.

Hand
Me
Down,

Bilge.
I’m not intent on questioning faith or religion. Instead, I question our susceptibility to suggestion, blind faith and subservience to the words of the elder or all knowing. I remain open to everything and all.
I’m the only one with dirt on my hands,
I’ve been crossing my fingers and snapping rubber bands.
And the fragments and pieces build into a story,
I transformed it to a thesis; the quality’s too low for me,
and I never set my expectations too high,
as should I, a lack of truth and abundance of lie.
My oh my and by the by.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and head,
there’s splinters in my skin and my bed,
there’s poison in the words I was fed.

I’m the only one missing pressure on my shoulders,
replaced the gentle weight with two heavy boulders.
I was wishing on satellites thinking they were stars,
breaking free from embraces thinking they were bars,
admiring fireflies not realizing they were cars
but I’m painfully aware of my own
scars.
I’m holding open seminars
to these memoirs of ours.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and shell,
there’s craters in my heart where I fell,
there’s holes in each story you tell.
Amy 6d
You say that you love me
but you act like you don't
-The neighbourhood
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