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#caustic
The constant reminder that our loved ones are gone. Visiting their graves and placing flowers you bought on Amazon. Realizing past problems that people never put their focus on. It’s just an excuse to remember someone that has been withdrawn. A physical phenomenon that keeps opening past wounds. Feelings that people try to keep in, but still get loose. Its repetitive and sad to tell you the truth. Will it ever go away? Ding, ding, ding. The alarm in my head rings. Caution ahead. Dangerous feelings. Prepare to get hit by sadness and other emotions. It will end soon. Your mind is in the process of erosion. A woeful fate with a caustic tone. The mortality paradox without a doubt, well-known. The charming idiosyncrasy of our loved ones, Carved nicely in their granite gravestones. The focus of death at all, ruins the day. Exacerbating the situation, digging a grave. Warning signs popping up like ads. Stop. Stop. Stop! Just please stop and go away! Everything is better without it, okay!
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May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 2:32 PM UTC
Will It Ever Go Away?
I’m a logician A tic-tac-tician Accountable to Me Bringing it day andor Night It’s time to get Into My groove Cause ... caustic ... causality Tom waits for no one.
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
Anti~logic
I'm confused by the caustic whispers What I do, I do for love, they say I'm profane. Of course I'm atheistic, I'm under the dome of this upset city with my badge and gun, what do they expect, my broken home? I of all the answers, answers, I have none. I know their caustic whispers well because I am one of the inimical voices spraying my name. My name is in lights, while I wanted this, I never asked I never asked, but now my brain is awake and I'm profane.
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
The Drama of Miriam Marcus: Caustic Whispers (Profane)
your words are razor blades and I have seen you shaving others enough to know I'd never let you be my barber for if your mind, the hand that guides them, were as sharp, you'd see that Occam's razor is not a proper tool of art
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 10:23 AM UTC
Tool
A battle always fought To my heart's content I lost My brain would rejoice in defeat I would gather strength to retreat Divided, I fight In a pitiful plight That no one even cares Not a single cheer you will hear Like a jester I joke About my caustic yoke I make light out of the matter And every one replies with laughter Proud of my achievement I wail in disappointment But still smiling I weep For this to myself I keep My last hope shattered No where to be found Like tattered cloth i'm worthless Just some *** lying around Clenching my face I don't know what to do I can't do anything To stop this wound Like migraine I kneel Pray to stop the pain A wall was my answer Streaming blood my gain Tired I lie On the ground while I weep But laughing comes life With a deal that I must keep To forever wander In this forsaken world forever To bear burden for no one And cower in fear of others Hopeless I accept the terms and agreement To lock myself forever In this caustic life of terror
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
Terms and Agreement