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I'm nothing but a mere reflection of who's around,
Too scared of my pain becoming unbound,
Always on guard, never showing my truth,
Because of the trauma stemming from my youth,
Never had the chance to be myself,
I was too busy hiding from everybody else,
Constantly in a state of fight or flight,
Crying myself to sleep every night,
All I've known is abuse and neglect,
Pain, suffering, sadness, is what I project,
So I protect my heart from ever having to feel,
I can't distinguish what's fake from what's real.
I fetch a card from my deck of a love tarot
that showed me the lovers and I was reckoned
Like a crumpled paper my heart was shrunk
I restored my senses and stimulate my mind
How this has happened in this miserable life?
He is no more with me and there is no love inside
It is the irony of daily reading with the cards
It makes my wish truthful and covers my scars
Jake Aug 15
Coins, Pentacles, The suitor of stability and groundedness.
Grounded like the plants that spring forth from the raw earth, like the cleansing stream flows in the pasture as the shepard attempts to heard his sheep.
The heard counts itself and drifts into a rest with no end.
His pasture, his cane, he takes me to the lake,
to look out at the water.
Only to discover a drowned sheep, lead astray by the false tranquility of the sea.
The shepard stares at the waves the waterlogged sheep was trapped underneath, and understands.
The Shepard dries off the sopping lamb with the fruits of his labor.


Swords want to conquer, to break in the untamable mare, its blade yearns for a wielder, for victory.
The blade's metal is molten, soon to be cooled by the calm waters of the cup as moonlight gleams off the hilt.
Within the grotto's hidden dirt pathway, the sword bends, piercing the heart of it's holder, but blood never was spilt.
It whispers of the eminent dangers, lurking just beyond the brush.

Wands, Rods, Batons.
Each want to cast a spell, but are fearful of it's effects.
And sacred texts collect dust, their token of age, never to be read by another.
A thin layer of dust, is what cleaves the truth.

Cups. Empty? Or full?
The liquid held within finds a momentary stillness so soon to be interrupted by the thirsty mouths of beggars, but the cup refills.
The copper forged within a kiln of fire and chaos, only to be treated as mear iron by all except the poor that drink from it.
The enchanted cup comes with a single proverb, a warning, which is engraved within it's metallic surface.
"To ye who's lips caress thyn skin, What thee take out wilt beest putteth back in, if ye life is what thee truly cherish, then replenish what thee take or thyn shalt surely perish."

The coins gingle as copper meets gold, the sword sharpens against the cup as the hilt and handle hold no company, the cups waters polish the birch, that in turn will one day give birth to the wands of the future.
But without the cups grasp the coins have no place to be held, without the cups fine sheen the sword becomes dull and chipped, and without the nurturing waters the cup provides and the birch withers and dies.
This is the truth: The cup holds and sharpens and waters.

By never at once

As the Coins, Sword and Wands feel more content,
The cup is fearful that it will never filled. Fearful of being reforged, being repurposed, again.

But the cup refuses to be contorted into a shape that fits their desires.

The disks want to be grasped.

The swords want to sharpen.

The wands want to be watered.

But the cup still yearns for the sea, an endless source of fulfilment and possibility, and with it, the future, far in the horizon.
Noor Jul 14
You called me beautiful
And kissed every inch of my skin

We were one in the dark
As we drowned in lust, in sin

Our chemistry
Made me break all my rules

And not until it was too late
That I realized you played me for a fool

My dear your lips speak lies
But your eyes are full with the truth

Your soul is old
But you taste like youth

Out of everyone
You’re the one I’ve chosen

I made my bed
Now my heart, you’ve broken
Oskar Erikson Jun 19
ive been taking Tarot classes again
like card counting can provide some clarity.
number XII: hanged man: left me dangling
free as can be.
climbing up lampposts to look down at the light for once
for once like the fool, number I.
the kitchen has been turned into a hell hole there's Cups and knives sharp as Swords.
the garden ravished for sticks to turn into Wands,
broken and jagged twine tied together for Pentacles- I through X.
Kings and Queens and Knights and Pages.
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

like the fool
i am.
(I) Three cups raised skyward
To God in celebration.
Gather sisters, in
The gardens and scream with
The golden rays of sunshine.

(II) The strain of this weight
On my bony shoulder blades
Is overbearing.
I am exhausted and frail;
When can I drop this burden?

(III) A knight in shining
Armor; wielding attractive
Charisma as his
Weapon of choice, rushing
To save the world, or the girl.
Can you guess which cards?
(I) Eight golden coins, and
Two remain unfinished. I
Try to concentrate;
My task almost completed;
My goal nearly realized.

(II) Steel soldiers stand in
Formation; eight malicious
Beams, I, their victim.
It’s far easier to play
Scared when I’m the hero, too.

(III) Here lies the karmic
Crossroads; an Armageddon
Of self-reflection.
Will the goddess berate me,
Or will she rejoice with me?
Can you guess which cards?
faye Jun 7
Written in the cards, they say
"There is someone out there who would like to tell you something."
But really,
I just think of it as nothing.
I don't want to believe it when you say that it's true
When you say
I like you too.
My second poem to you. I want this to be true. I really do.
Sacrelicious May 26
Why waste my breathe.
When you can't listen to anybody else but yourself.

I'm not sorry for your lack of patience.
But I am sorry, you lost me.

Because when the roofs on fire
and my life is falling apart.
It's okay to be the fool.
Because he's walking off a cliff with a smile on his face.

So who's really living their best here?
Canis Latrans Mar 14
Sentinel of dust.
Guard your resolutions quietly.
Calamity comes but to no avail.
The card signifies strength in opposition. If attacked he will meet the onslaught boldly.
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