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#artful
This artful mind of mine colors the white, And lightens up the dark upon my page, Hidden within my since-birth hueless sight, Getting much more volume with every age. This artful mind of mine colors the ears, Which is a way right to the soul and heart, Who's shielding it away from all the fears, Making them strong, by manifested art. This artful mind of mine is like a saint, A flawless light of Truth, helping the poor, By offering them a radiant paint, Not touched by evils, but from within the core. Today I came to a truthful conclusion: This artful mind of mine, is my solution.
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Aug 5, 2021
Aug 5, 2021 at 12:42 PM UTC
The Artful Mind
Zombie girl, Do you weep, For those you **** Do you feel cold, Without your second soul? Zombie girl, Skeleton’s always smile. Your skin’s getting colder, Like a winter in your summer. Zombie girl, You’re an open casket, Something warm died inside it. Zombie girl, Hang it up in your closet. Don’t forget to close it. Skeleton, In the house of the living. It’s like being alive, But never being able to die. Dissection, On the surgeon’s table. Gave its soul to death, And she said her first goodbye. She opened up, The bee and the flower bud. Carnivore, She slammed her petals shut. Why does it matter to you? It belongs to me. I stole its air, That makes it free. Hung it from an umbilical cord, Tied under a broken crescent moon. A stranger wore your skin, Now they’re buried inside a human coffin. She sung along to carols of the needle man. Stillborn chorus of the cold dead thing in her hand. She felt it die. I heard the crocodile cry. When she gave her first goodbye.
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Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 8:38 PM UTC
Zombie Girl
You're the most unco and clumsy person I know It doesnt really matter how many times you label yourself as "ninja" I miss how you would argue and try convince me that you're actually artful and cunning when it came to being a 'ninja'.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
Day2WithoutYou
- She was a dreamer who lived in an insomniac world. Nothing came easy…       every time she tried to begin, she would stumble and fall, but that     didn’t stop her. Although she thought differently...her will could withstand anything     thrown in her way, just another challenge fought. The past haunted her days, shadowing almost       every move…every single breath. Time always promised to make things better,       but she knew better than to find truth in those words. Truth lay somewhere     far from where she had ever let herself dream, too heavy from all the weight she carried.     There was only one time she let herself lean… letting her weight get the best of her, thinking       she could find a way to dream peacefully forever, but even then she failed to succeed.       She lost the ability to hold her world together.    Indifferent to the world, numb to all emotion, she lost hope in being set free.    The darkness surrounding so great; faith too small. So she poured her pent up pain,      into artful master pieces. She sketched abstract obscurities      that depicted her darkest of secrets. She painted intangible thoughts and    feelings she longed to be fulfilled with through majestic words that put anyone who dared    to read, in the footsteps of her soul. Broken and blue she crafted old warn memories into the      picturesque landscapes of her wildest dreams. She elegantly danced with the monsters under her bed and      gracefully with the skeletons in her closet… breaking free.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
She was... (part 1)
- She was a dreamer who lived in an insomniac world. Nothing came easy…       every time she tried to begin, she would stumble and fall, but that     didn’t stop her. Although she thought differently...her will could withstand anything     thrown in her way, just another challenge fought. The past haunted her days, shadowing almost       every move…every single breath. Time always promised to make things better,       but she knew better than to find truth in those words. Truth lay somewhere     far from where she had ever let herself dream, too heavy from all the weight she carried.     There was only one time she let herself lean… letting her weight get the best of her, thinking       she could find a way to dream peacefully forever, but even then she failed to succeed.       She lost the ability to hold her world together.    Indifferent to the world, numb to all emotion, she lost hope in being set free.    The darkness surrounding so great; faith too small. So she poured her pent up pain,      into artful master pieces. She sketched abstract obscurities      that depicted her darkest of secrets. She painted intangible thoughts and    feelings she longed to be fulfilled with through majestic words that put anyone who dared    to read, in the footsteps of her soul. Broken and blue she crafted old warn memories into the      picturesque landscapes of her wildest dreams. She elegantly danced with the monsters under her bed and      gracefully with the skeletons in her closet… breaking free.
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