On the muted music of the zephyr, the viridescent folks' dance and the fluffs veiled in white, sallow, and orange tinges glide in the mid-air. In this pristine swathe shield by a mysterious guard against intruders, there's no gravity to land from jovial vibrations.
do you believe in haunted dreams? not nightmares but haunted dreams.. because I do. and that’s because you haunt mine. every moment of them.
and you haunt my reality. every waking second is filled with the need to reminisce. even when I run your scent just seems to follow. to escape into any type of solitude would grant my unspoken wish.
so I sleep.
but even then my dreams are tinted with the feeling of nostalgia. yet it is not from anything I can recall.. to be missing something I never had at all is a special kind of hell. you’ve tainted my dreams as though you’ve put me under a spell. and it’s weakened me. leaving me screaming upon deaf ears I wonder if my voice will make it out of this fog you’ve brought.
everything is clouded with the abyss of you.
you’ve tinted my dreams in the color of you. drugged me and got me hooked. now if my dreams aren’t tinted with you, they’re nothing but bare black walls.
“ That was insane how you ended it 🤯 from start to finish I was intrigued and steady wanting to read more, although the person was expressing themselves, the vivid imagery you presented through your careful choice and placement of words painted a clear motion picture I could truly get lost in, hella deep and very impressive no bap, you snapped...” - a response to my poem..
In a place where no one but we, between sun set and rise a cut of bamboo is fused and the coffee cup brimful to the lip, the label uplifted to the next level and sloshed on a lovely sharing hours, slowly we muted and respiring like a new combustion engine of a new 2020 Mercedes Benz car racing on pure coal tar high road
Read it, you can! Because, I am in love with 2020 Mercedes Benz Cars
I’m feeling like giving up. As I sit and gaze into nothin’ I hear my heart thumpin through the music that’s crumpin in my ears. and I’m wishin for it to all slow down and stop. I’m wishing I could replace my blood with molasses and then slit my wrist and watch. Watch as the life drains from my eyes. Would you believe me if I told you, that wasn’t a lie? Not an exaggeration or a tale? Of course you wouldn’t because you aren’t me you don’t have my mind or the thoughts that creep in. and with a mouth that is permanently disconnected from my mind, how will I ever get you to understand why I am the way I am?