to understand if you fall you can get up again. -Why glass bottles are full of sand, how it goes round and round. Nothing's bound forevermore not hate nor love.
How can I feel like this once again,
Like I’m falling through the floor I thought was made of stone. I came so far but on closer inspection perhaps I’ve been going in circles. I appear to have lost my way, stumbled on my way out of the woods, And lost myself in the night sky. Perhaps I stood too long looking up at the stars. Well I stopped to smell the flowers and the world passed me by. A great wind knocking me down to my knees again, just like old times, old friend of mine.
A knot of truth hangs over me,
more a promise that all things come together. Were a straight line that if you take enough steps leads to an amphitheatre of echoes reverberating around and around resonating with this truth that all things have a balance. We start, end, doesn't matter if we stand still of reach for the heavens.. Eventually we'll just swing silently like a extinguished light bulb hanging dead in the abyss.
This femme fatale
A girl that captures She be bright and skin tight Shiny white with youth implied Conversing in quirky loops As we jump through her hoops Slowly showing error codes Could it be the alcohol Clap snap of bear traps Broken from within Signs of white lines that fracture Reactions to vast echoes of her past Trauma tinged before the dawn Soft but informed A hardened persona with claws
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
I am going around in circles
It's too dark everything is too tall; all the same. I am going in circles People telling me I'm worth it around, around, around But I still deny it. I am going in sane; what a sought-after word circles, circles, circles I can't seem to walk in a straight line. Am I in? There's a tunnel of light going, going, going that I want to run into. I am.. A bit dizzy; I feel sick in, in, in I want to get somewhere I Unable to move from these loops am, am, am I collapse to the ground, out of breath.
Dying out in dreams
Living another nightmare Anxiety screams These unlettered fears A cosmic scare.
Will you ever shut down? Had to ask.
S S P T O U O C L K N I
A poem every day.
The Thing about Logic is that it can be used to prove anything.
Words Of Harfouchism.
You go to the end of the road
And you know Immediately what's there That is why you don't acknowledge the sign The street The loop It leads nowhere