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#deathly
I'm so tired, Mum, Of tackling a lot all the while, Of hiding my nerves into a ring-mail, Of running away all the time. I'm so tired, Mum! There're so much lies around! It's so scary, I'm starting to feel That I'm falling down. I'm so tired, Mum! It's so unfair! I can't even weep. Fluff my pillow like for a kid, Mum. I deathly want to sleep.
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Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 5:05 PM UTC
I'm so tired, Mum!
the best time to realize when what causes one to experience the meaning of to be deathly afraid is exactly when you are not joy purifying enfolds you, envelops, indeed, you are subsumed, a sense of being secondary to the unusual flooding of the dry riverbed in your head that’s been dry since you can’t remember when when you understand that one cannot truly write only love poetry to precise excess unless admittedly you love to excess, otherwise you are incapable of making good love poems when you are not within that rare off the beaten yes trackless meniscus curve, in country of first love   of only true love
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Dec 6, 2024
Dec 6, 2024 at 5:47 PM UTC
When OLP is Deathly Afraid
You see, I seem to have caught the deathly hug of hubris I know everything But what does it all mean? The pleasures of life go right above my head And time drips from my fingertips Plip, plop, plip I am a blip And this hug, Why does it make everything so sad?
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Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022 at 3:52 PM UTC
The Deathly Hug of Hubris
There is no escape... A creature of evil—the dark! You roam through the night well hidden— ghostlike! Your strike – a deathly finesse! Crushed, smitten, he falls down – your victim, your mark. There is no escape!
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Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 8:04 PM UTC
There is no escape
My heart lies with the ones who play with fire blackened fingers complement my eyes Keep the shadow near by our desire we don't need to sleep if we don't rise I can tell you want to get much higher I've got what you need you know the price Angel, tell me how do you trust a liar? Tears and prayers caught between the skies My heart lies ablaze in Heaven's pyre lonely ashes lingering they complement my eyes
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Jan 24, 2020
Jan 24, 2020 at 6:44 AM UTC
AoD
"Useless" Why don't you use less Our Father, Papa in Heaven He told us to love Not to discourage or anger neighbors He told us to encourage For we are encouraged, Deadly, the word: Useless So two words: Use, less
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Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC
use-less
his eyes do profoundly haunt they're pitch black and of soul so terribly gaunt a chill runs down the spine on seeing grounds black one can't bear their deathly opine I feel he's not human the black displays no essence of a living span a black inexplicable a black of hollowness a black grotesque his eyes of nothingness
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Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
Profoundly Haunt
The dusty colours, Lure my eyes to the deep void, Where deathly eyes lurk.
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 7:33 PM UTC
alluring
I'm still miserable. don't get me wrong - there are pauses, and there are breaks. there are beams of light, there are glimmers of hope and there are days where happiness is so golden, I can practically feel it salting on my tounge, dancing in my brain and some small part of me almost begins to believe that things have changed - it's going to be better now. but of course, night is still well and alive, in it's deathly gloom. and of course, the petals always plunge through in a sickening cold snap and I am brutally reminded that spring is just season, not a way of life. and although the why is given a different name - boys, alcohol, displacement, bad job - i find myself surrending to the currents that is winter days, where sunlight burns to cold, midnight ash within a few hours. every few weeks or so, the darkness returns pinching out the flame that i had spent so much time trying to reignite and oh, not again. but again and again, the night falls, the stars spiraling out of place until the cold and the heaviness have anchored in my chest like a yawning need for eternal day - I'm suddenly left wondering if i should even fight it.
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Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
it's all brain chemistry
Salty air,sultry weather A lone ship sails in blue waters. Steadily,inch by inch in the suicidal sea Making its way through the giant sea. As the sky turns grey, And the waters turn prey, It balances n composes itself. Against all odds,with all lords. The voyage has begun. And so has the competition. Competition-against the mighty blue sea. Bon Voyage!
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Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 11:40 PM UTC
Myriad As The Blue Sea
it's strange. Stranger than stranger, a feeling of the coldest of ice shrouding your body and the most intense warmth enveloping it and you don't really know how to react because this is it
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Untitled
Cuts and wounds and scratches Set deep in your skin They create little tracks Like Daddy's motorbike on That deathly moor Cuts and wounds and scratches Creating red blood To swell to the surface Like Daddy's body on That deathly moor Cuts and wounds and scratches They are Deep Angry Ugly crevices On the map of your body Cuts and wounds and scratches Deep enough as crevices To fall and sink into Just like Daddy did on That deathly moor
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Deathly Moor