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I felt my self
mix and fold equal portions,
of opposing selves,
a mix and fold
of savoury and sweet
dark and light
crunchy and smooth
intrigue and delight
until the hit of my self doubt
eventually cloaked
the savour of self knowledge
creating a disturbing
after taste.
Surely not me?
And the bread and wine
was handed to me.
Mark 14.19  Surely not me, LORD?
As life shapes the land
From a dream to something more
I shall shape myself
Even creatures of habit sometimes find someone worth changing for.
If only it were so easy for us to change their minds as well.
kgl 5d
let go of dreams that aren’t serving you
let go of dreams that will never come true
you’re still sitting sobbing in your room to songs you were crying to at 14
and what the **** is growth anyway?
doesn’t pain throb the same at any age?
why hang on to possibilities when the potentiality of everything is right there in front of you?
shut up, you stupid *****: you’re brilliant
I love you
I will keep on loving you until you figure out what’s going on here
who you are
is not all you will be
and I love you
you’re mine
what else could I do?
Lydia May 16
It is disappointing
that every thing you think and build up in your mind
is better than the reality of it
ι ℓιкє тнє ωαу ιт ƒєєℓѕ
ωнєη ι тнιηк тнαт ι'м ℓєανιηg

нυят муѕєℓƒ тσ ρяσνє ι'м нυмαη
ωнєяє ∂ι∂ ι gσ ωяσηg тнιѕ тιмє?

ιƒ ι ∂ση'т ωαкє υρ ι'м вєттєя σƒƒ
ι'ℓℓ ƒιηαℓℓу ¢αт¢н υρ ση му ѕℓєєρ

ι'νє вєєη ѕσ ℓσѕт。。。
ωαηηα вє αηуωнєяє єℓѕє вυт нєяє
ωση'т вє тнιѕ ωαу ƒσяєνєя
¢αη'т ∂σ тнιѕ ƒσя мυ¢н ℓσηgєя

∂σєѕ αηуσηє gινє α ƒυ¢к?

ι ∂ση'т тнιηк тнαт'ѕ тнє ¢αѕє
➶➶➶➶➶ 𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓑𝔂 𝓥𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓪 ➷➷➷➷➷
amorev writes May 13
Little divested flower,
Shame— how you break with the peak of light.
A blossom they might think,
You're still a phony stick.
Is it guilt filling the scene?
Or is it just the sunbeam?
Amrita Tiwari May 10
I had forgotten how it feels to be touched by you
You left my heart broken and mind askew
The longingness to see you
For eternity and eternally, or just seconds, few
I, henceforth remained unbothered and sad,
Even in a gala milieu!
You came back by a whisker and feelings, see through
And asked me to gather something new and old , something borrowed and  blue
I felt some jitters and saw love inked hues
I felt so lost when it should've been good in lieu
Then one day you woke up and away you flew
You told me it's over, out of love, you grew
I then remembered how it feels to be hurt by the cruel,
I then learnt, love leaves you unscathed and glad, if true
And seems precious than any material, money or jewel
You will find it in the world, first find it in YOU.
Self love is the most important kind of love that you can begin with...the rest will follow itself :)
Who are you?

Not an ally to the covenant
neither a foe that I shall draw arms with

Your looks, pale
your intentions undefined

not a lover for me to die for
neither a deceased relative to let me cry

Alas twas a man in the mirror
Twas a man who I thought
I wouldn't never be
neth jones Apr 30
His :

i make my travel
reseeding you
                my dear heart
                      into a compact unit of storage

i relieve from our nesting comfort
dismiss our established downey base of cooperation
                                   cleave from our snared compromise

instead to bed and thieve an unshared atmosphere
guilty joy followed by joyful normality
no stale thing

unravelling light
  that I've a capsule world
  when i turn
  toward our lap again)

goodbye of you i am mended
made completely free
                    on the first turn of a corner

& Hers :

you leave me
      on your travels (you-were-my-travels)
you leave me susceptible
my heart alters to become
       a weak permeable tissue of easy tamper
       membership structure is dissolved
         returned to the vital spill
           welcome fluent contamination
               villainess and godless vibration
                  of the goddess confession

dress hooked up past my waist
i'll power-**** away my morality on day one
each day following shall be made easy
  ushered along in brutalities slip steam
                        and the prom of eddies

back in time i've been working on something..
       i'll call it The ****** List
criminal joys and tasks of double self daring
     (not folded over
       or veloped in the knicker drawer)
           it operates as a basking lurk
                               tucked discreetly
                                 correct behind the eye
                      a charm feature of the unconscious
when released
   it's something melkish and larking with energy
   tacking harm to my activated mischief
      kinetic value and uncontrollable spur

in your absence
     i am permissionless
i account for nothing

nooks of the apartment
the memory of us quickly forms a ***** coral
i've stopped washing to suit this mode
my body, a journal of stains and earned bruises
i holla and bay at mementoes of our brace
and then stop at the near point of the neighbours tolerance

time has crushed in on its own thesis
become gummy and tenseless
skipping about in haphazard spasms
  backstep, bow and reversal
          observably organic in motion
           and proud of its many personalities

Oh, You're Back Again !
    no, it is your ghost
is it a spy ? ... i doubt you knew you even had it
it threads in and out of my company
seeming baffled and far from its comfort zone
did i put you there ?
i don't call you
the physical you
because you said 'no phones'
              and 'only in emergencies' (is-this-urgent ?)
Is This Urgent ?!
i restrict where i live in here
     keep the windows widowed and veiled
it makes for an unreal canvas
i'm weeding for a correction
sensual precarious highs
in a spate
with this time alone
i'll make our home a vile space
a defication
and i can make no sense assessment of it any
i fight against digestion within these premises
i stay still long enough i am softened and palped
            by a dense atmosphere and salivations of contact
and outside..

the streets are exhausted
and i've quite the nasty reputation
violence, baiting and thievery
inebriation and toxic language
i shall soon be policed
no doubt i've lost my job
for now our place is a dare for vandals
             when i am an insensible heap
                 and perspiring over you in delirium
                    they devalue the exterior

i'll find my creative sprite
that is good
i had missed it
now this is urgent (this-is-mine-was-always)
i take up a notebook and puke it full
i take sticks in my mitt and scrawl my charcoal visions
the blood visions
   the primal mud
  on all our walls

can i piece back our home by your return ?
can I sufficiently correct the blurring history I've smutted ?
do i care to ?
no more fading into 'partner'
lease is up
you'll not find me here destroyed
or waiting
    naked but an apron with my hands cupped and mouth open
i'll have ravelled myself up tight
- having stoked my inhuman malady -
     i'll mate my own travels

                                                        ­             - aborted
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