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Don’t share your visiting cards.
That, I have nothing to do with.

Breaking the silence, speak to me of your journey,
and your destination. Speak to me of your dreams,
and efforts. Speak to me about how far you have
been, and the hurdles to move ahead. Speak to me
about the blessings, and the prayers. Speak to me
about sunrise, music and coffee. Speak to me about
yourself, and nobody else. Speak to me about your
being, who you are, and who you are not.

When I will look into your eyes, speak to me
something, that you never spoke about.
Speak to me to get understood.

I am here to listen.
Yes, I said that.
Genre: Inspirational
Theme:All in comfort, alright
J J 4d
We walk among silent god's;
Intercepting our every pulse, our every step.
    Tracing our every breath unto its last--
  Connecting every life, race and element--
and occasionally, knotting our shoe laces
when we arent looking as we're about
                                                    to cross the road...
Fingers crossed this was the last 403 error thingy,I've missed this site.
Sailing in the same boat
Fears of drowning
Speaks none
Still storms
Never warn
Em MacKenzie Oct 5
Why do me the courtesy
of meeting me half way?
Unleashing your opinions of me,
putting fears to rest and keeping pain at bay.
You might aswell just ****** me,
this game I never signed up to play,
yet still I’m screaming it out internally
but it’s not my place to say.
I guess I’ll keep quiet for another day.
Em MacKenzie Oct 4
You’re picking every single door
except the one I could never lock.
Consciously you know there could be one more
but you’ll continue on your never ending walk.
“Even though she knows you’d go through Hell,
why would she love you? She knows you too well.”
Accept the truth and I’ll face the wrath,
I am the root but you’re always the path.

We see days and nights at separate times,
they appear the same but differentiate.
I **** on lemons but bathe in the bitterness of limes
encircled in salt; for sugar I’ll have to wait.

What doesn’t **** me only leaves me on the brink of death,
right hand on heart as I lost my left.
I’ll form the only links that I know
and wait to hear, “I told you so.”

I stop short of screaming those crucial words
you don’t need to hear it, they’re engraved in your mind.
Instead I whisper them to the trees, the leaves and birds,
they’re the only company that I find.

What doesn’t **** me only leaves me on the brink of death,
I’ve saved your truth for my last breath.
You’ll find it all in each day with age,
I’ll write it down in a novel; you won’t skip to the last page.
I always needed it more than you’ll ever know,
and you’ll tell yourself “I told you so.”
18
I'm crying
but my tears are not valid

I'm screaming
but my words are silent

I'm standing
but my existence was absent

because I'm young
I'm young
"you're still young how much can you know"
I am sincerely sorry for being an absentee in my own life. You probably don't know me or even care about my existence, nor do you find relevance in my apologetic attempt to reconcile my fruitlessness. But I feel strongly compelled to apologize for my stagnation:

I come from a pond across the way from you. A stowed away break in the trees where the sun only shines for a brief time at noon and disappears for the rest of the day. The birds don't sing their song of sixpense, nor do the fish splash or the frogs belch their symphony. Even the crickets scream as loud as the mimes at the circus. For nothing enters and nothing leaves, so why do you even bother?

I only write to you for what could have been, and pray for forgiveness for what hasn't been. I understand that the act of "what if"s is a waterfall of tears cascading into an abyss, but I find that this journey is a necessary evil.

So what if I made a splash today in my pond, the ocean of things that I can actually control. Sent ripples across the pond and stirred the fish into commotion. The frogs join in the chaos with their symphony  and maybe the crickets, after hearing the low bass of croaking, decide to join in with their rhythm that awakens the birds from their deep slumber. In response, the birds spring up with their joyous melody and the ensemble of nature creates an exuberant noise in a previously dull and dim place. Such a thought that one tiny splash can dictate a tremendous ensemble, such that if you took your thoughts off of your own life for a split second you could possibly be splendidly surprised by burst of nature from an insignificant source. Such small fractions of life can create mesmerizing sound waves that make you a little happier today.

It seems so simple to create, just a whispering splash. Yet I have failed to create a single note that is audible to the outside world.

There are two plausible reasons for my plight: Either the noise I attempt to create is so insignificant to the outside world that more significant amplifications exceed my own capacity to make sound or the world is just simply not listening anymore.

No matter how many times you cry out, jump up and down in the pond and scream your head off at the world; the ripples aren't forming. The waves don't crash on the shore and one is left standing invisible in the center of a drowning amount of commotion.

And if you are reading this, you are the anomaly that has slipped through the sound barrier to hear this silent song.
I bought a coffee the other day,
Gawped at society on the way,
Coffee shop like the undertakers,
Here no conversation makers,
"The  crowd" sitting in total silence,
Gazing at phones, is it sense?
So much for that coffee shop,
The solitude of worshiping Microsoft,
Alone together, where does it stop?
Solitary silence in the coffee shop!
Feedback welcome.
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