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For me , my life meant nothing .
Until you came and become my everything..

Yes , I know I won't die in those lanes.
Unless you leave me in vain .

Sometimes stupid more than babies.. Sometimes cleaver more than archimides... Sometimes childish more Than his sisters.
Sometimes my everything becoz of affection

But it all changed..
Now you're gone..
You left me alone..
I'm not dead nor I'm alive.
I'm like a fire in the dark moonlit sky

From miles aparted We are  indeed..
... But hearts are actached toward a dream..
. I'm there everywhere when u feel lone
. I'm yours indeed for a long
For ever .
Even you left me alone.
It's a Collab
artisticAR Sep 2020
What will I find beyond this gate?
Once opened, can I catch enough love to seal my fate?
Could the water fill up my empty heart
and lead me straight to the part
where I say
I've found
artisticAR Sep 2020
Recovered, head down,
knees clenched
Legs still won't walk her home.
Skin wet and heart drenched
listen to words and candid tone
and accepts her returning reverie
with a sip of the bottle of bravery
Yes, it was an awkward time
- amp
artisticAR Sep 2020
If you travel outside of your boundaries
there is magnificent place called World
Some corners are show-offs
While others are quite preserved
with its obscure beauty
making lasting memories
artisticAR Sep 2020
What would happen if I walked in?
Would you welcome me the way I've been,
throughout the times, a fickle believer
full of  suspicions but still I linger
awaiting, full of hope...
artisticAR Sep 2020
I hide the secrets you don't disclose
Play pretend so no one knows
'cause the truths would leave you bare
too revealing for you to share
Believe me, I understand
'cause I've been playing that same hand
and I never really seem to win
I just play the cards I'm given.
Nostalgic May 2019

Cloud formation
9 degrees from location
I can’t see the formation
Of fear adopting me from temptation

It wasn’t honor or pride
It’s fear of what consequence resides
The naked plush of a lustful rush
In the trippy black out
emphasized by my friend’s paintbrush

I’ve never thought fantasy could be escalated
seems I’ve hit a milestone
I’ve shot up a dragon ride home
Now I’m excited by warmth and fascinated by combs
I’ve never wandered the medieval before
That’s why I stuck to game of thrones

My minds been freed
My body, imprisoned
It can’t be explained but it’s nothing depicted in illustrated predictions of purple, red and off key balance as seen in pulp fiction

They say drug use is escapism
Acid burnt down the bars of social anxiety disorders and confines of 3rd dimensional prisms
Left bare dialectical materialism
Molly taught me how to make friends
While your sobriety made you prone to solipsism

This was always what I’d imagined it to be
When I close my eyes and see
For a while I had looked over the wall than walk through the gate
Always drew the solution with stick to sand but never went into the maze
Always window shopped the shoes
But never tried them on to walked the way
Perhaps it’s a common laymen’s phrase
That drugs are a paradise lost in the haze.
Disclaimer: I don’t support the excessive use of drugs but find the campaigns against some of them on the basis of escapism somewhat too rigid and harsh.
Rainbows for chasing,
the moon for the aiming,
forming in clouds, faces
for inspiration,
beckoning, is life ahead
full of credible opportunity,
beside empty promises creating,
truthful reality.
Standing tall, girding *****
I, reached for the unreachable
so - distantly close,  impulsive forward, surges.
without doubt,
or plan,
missing by the - conceivably smallest,
actually - furthest amount,
yet still moving through,
pushing the immovable, climbing
the inaccessible,
falling - frequently,
never reaching nethermost depth,
buoyed by a recognition,
realising - all this fighting - striving
failing - miserably,
doing it all - wrong,
was not failure, but a justified lesson
on coping in the mire of existence.
The rainbows beauty explained in science,
gives it simplicity. A reality water and sunlight,
nothing really to chase,
or catch.
Moon - oh moon - my most favourite, still my dreamstone,
is but a stark beautiful presence,
removing sunlight reveals a satellite bleak,
nothing is here to seek,
or take aim,
likewise our cloud perceived faces,
expectations are best - unexpected.
If controlled by endeavour and aquasition
disappointment may be somewhat - repositioned,
attainment of skills formerly devoid of utilisation
revived, re-given to make something, that in truth,
can be ameliorated.
if only to yours truly
Still Chasing Rainbows . Michael C Crowder 10th March 2019 @scorsby
one day at a time
Korina Mar 2019
He came over...
We spoke...
One of the few
Blasts from my past
Red wine
Poured out in a glass
In substitution
Of how I poured
My heart out
To potential
Which did not last...
At last...
We spoke.
And what I thought
For a split second
Could be some kind of
Re-ignition to my fine
Cashmere woods scented
Candle wax...
Instead became an unsteady flame
Over a firmly molded
Candle frame
Of a woman...
Who has had enough.
We spoke...
About what he saw as a memory
I saw as trauma
And there was no more tears
To be cried
Over his baby mama drama
And that his words
Fell on deaf ears
When he said he can lend an ear
Because a promise is that to a fool
And a fool...
I no longer bared...
I am in love...
And although that love
Had not come alive
And although that love
Is what I will seek
Till the day I die...
And that love is the only love
Worth years of tear drops
From my eyes...
I am in love...
We spoke...
I never meant to end up so cold
I never meant to make your ego
Feel like a joke
I didn’t even mean
To invite you to my home...
But at last...
We spoke
No longer my Prince Charming
This princess was now
Anointed as Queen
And this Queen awaits a true King
And it takes more than a hug
And a kiss on the cheek
To make me weak
It takes more than
You telling me of my beauty
Which took me your absence to seek
... your assurance my darling...
I **** sure don’t need...
I am in love...
With a man
Whose actions
Speak louder than his words
Who pushed me
Through my darkness
Who struck chords of movement
Who got me to love...
And actually mean it...
Who saw my poems...
We spoke...
And in that moment
I realized...
I don’t need a title...
I just need to exist.
Don’t say it...
Feel it...
We have spoken. .
For more follow me also on my Instagram @primapoetess
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