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Madness whispering loudly
Floating on winds scented breath, I can hear it's seductive call
Blindly leading me down mazes within my uncharted mind
Sanity has misplaced my blue print to a glittered life
In my broken heart it no longer reside

Hatred combat ready, It's fully armed to the teeth
Speaking in oppressive tongues
It craves for me to greedily taste and admit defeat
Chiseling relentlessly at my positivity
my cool resolve alone withstanding the heat
The air around me is toxic and choking  
Constricted
I'm still grasping to breathe

emotions screaming to break free
it no longer wants to suffer in silence
even it's prayer is cloaked within a plea
waiting for this clouded smoke to dissipate
so finally the world pictured i can truly see.
Madness consumes the idle minds
lets not be blind
we all have those days
when we questioning if we living right
just don't give up the fight
never back down to any strife
if the clouds is all that you see
then lets get creative
and cut this thoughts with a knife.
Amanda 1d
If I had a quarter for every time I wished
For you and I to take a trip to yesterday
I don't know exactly how rich I would be
But it would add up to a lot of change

I don't know what I'd do with that cash
But I would spend every cent on you
Doing whatever you like till it's gone
Or till there's nothing left to do

Or we could leave where we are for good
Pack up all our things today and leave
I could take your hand and whisk you far from here
To a place our tomorrows will always be happy

I will say farewell to bad memories
Never look that direction again
Like arrows we will fly toward the future
Our time in this small town will end

Presently I have your heart to hold
And although time may never give me a replay
I am too lucky to be nostalgic
Done wishing for yesterdays
Day 6: write a poem of any length incorporating every word from your latest Facebook status update

"If you don't change what you are doing today all your tomorrows will look like your yesterdays"
Why some people have hardest
Time to face
Someone that they care about
Why can’t you just
Be a real man
Say what you need to say.
Whatever maybe
That your afraid to tell me
I rather you be honest with and straight
Forwarded.
I rather hear the truth.
I’m not going to begg you
To love me and stay with me.
If you found your happiness.
All I could do is respect it.
I’m to grow for all this *******.
I serve to be happy too.
Come and tell me
Make your closure with me.
You could conntinue living that life
You chose for yourself.
I could Continue being me.
Once’s you say
What maybe
You go your way
I go my way.
Ave 1d
He’s kinda weird
The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking
Do you think he notices
When I do it too?
I kinda like his hair
The way it curls makes me wanna run my hand through it
it’s kinda strange
Why these feelings never came up before?
I wonder
Simon 2d
Engaging the processes that never matter, is blasphemy! Coating with coaxed visions of what wasn’t the usual demeanor of completion. Magnifying a matter of consequence over structures of doubt. Magnifying another matter entirely. Switching off the coax disposition. Processes becoming enraged. Engaging what it truly wanted to open up onto itself. Performances exiled. Properties fallen silent for non being the wiser. Trippy situations become sensitive desires. Opting situational premises. Offered to become desolate in the spotlight. Spotlight blips out for a few moments of data being processed over along period of space. The time was undetermined by valid postures. Valid postures filtering out neat and tidy. Only wanting to look it’s best. The blips mean more to what time can’t separate. The space occupies reason. Reason being pushed into uncertainties. Uncertainties becoming trapped. Disillusioned in the path that processes an easy way out. Filtering more reasoning on pure logic alone. Logic is great. Yet undecided. Everything caught in tumbling transmissions. Engaging the processes that never matter, isn’t blasphemy. Until you find the route of measure. Opting more devices from within to escort the spotlight into submission. Submission prompting more blips in the spotlight. More processes become enraged! The blips being the true mask to what uncertainty flips around like a rag doll. Its design isn’t enraged because it can’t decide its own reasoning. It’s enraged because it’s engaging with itself. Similarities being too of the same varieties for one process over the other to notice in finite detail. A mirror reflecting off one component between another. Never noticing the illusion of itself being the only one of its kind. The twist! Being what it can’t recognize. Is the acknowledgement of another like it? Programmed to twist, turn, pull its way to victory in undetermined results. The logic is careless. Showing adaptions aren’t perfect. Tries and tries. Until something clicks for the escort route out of the blasphemy. Rooting you in place. Each component reflecting its own processes off mirrors one can only acknowledge. Wait! If one can twist its desires around itself, reflecting it like a mirror. Then how does it communicate with another component? The fate isn’t in the details. But for you to figure out. A fated bland disposition regains control. Processes become engaged once more!
Processes are messy, struggling idiots that can't depend on its own local frame. It takes time for itself to notice what itself is tasked for. Only then will it stop shining more light against its own mirror.
Insha 2d
you ask me if I talk to god
because he is important to you
and I reply saying I do
but not in the way you think

I speak to god when I’m all alone
crying and screaming and
even though no sound may come out he hears me
he understands what I am saying to him without me having to say a word
because he is always there listening and loving

just like I’ll be for you
Returning to past
you tend to remain all mum,
murmuring nothing.

Measuring speed
of light coming from my eyes
without spilling dark.

What burns up, ejects
the sparks on your shroud
of three parting words.
Retrieve me, by my
voice, to stay at the pause
between wounded words.

Unopened scar
beams from the moon to heal
the breached faith.

You know, lips always
remember the kiss of sun
in raging snow.
We face battles each day
We learn from them and grow
The lessons are always there
They are there for one to show
We learn and build character
Use them as a guide to get better
We enhance our vision
In order to get brighter
Failing at a game,
You did not even wish to play,
Conscripted into reality,
Without a say in such an act.
Play the game,
Or lose it all.
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