#exitence - Hello Poetry

The cord of reality severed, screams of desperation. Sobbing that every breath isn't within a mothers existence. Now breathing the cruel air of actuality. Comforted but alone.

0

Apr 29, 2018

Apr 29, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC

poetic-t

Babies Thoughts [2]

The cord of reality severed, screams of desperation. Sobbing that every breath isn't within a mothers existence. Now breathing the cruel air of actuality. Comforted but alone.

6

We are the void. We are everything that isn't something. We are nothing. I am aLonely. I am always somewhere. I speak through her story. I am her story. I am the story.

0

Jan 15, 2018

Jan 15, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC

Asominate

aLonely

We are the void. We are everything that isn't something. We are nothing. I am aLonely. I am always somewhere. I speak through her story. I am her story. I am the story.

8

As I asserted my standing, slowly like sheep being herded to a cliffs edge. They were each fading in painfully hostile silence.. Have you seen something knowing that this time no matter what, there isn't another existence there is just obliteration of all there essence.. It was like candles being blown out by a chainsaw, but a candle bled in a form of censorship. With me though there ending crept through me like I was feeling every torn filament undoing. These picture once idyllic, but they were more notable of what was befalling them and they ran. Well not ran, the better word would be phasing from one place to another, but the end result was the same, a snow storm of embers fell around me. So beautiful were the shades of each collection. The aura a little different around each one that was falling within me, but it was getting to much to handle so many memories tearing through me. I looked at the surroundings, it like autumn leaves setting in snow, vivid emotions seeping beneath my subconscious, I could see every moment till that final breath... everyone was so cold though, that last lingering moment of fear gnawing within me like paper cuts writing nothing but expressing everything in nothingness. I had accumulated so many endings, such sorrow, some happiness that the lingering moments were fading. But this garden of white roses was being blemished, consumed from within. I could still see these things clinging beneath the surface.. *"One with the will to live, must first except the will to die,* *"Our first inhale, is exhaling the breath that will eventually be the last motion we do before death"* Then as this thought progressed through me, I started to remember things of before? before I was a human popsicle. There were so many machines, so much death paused in its final exhale. Faces in slumber, flowers painted around this garden of oblivion. I looked around, and the bricks of conscious memories were corroding no longer ethereal, what was formed now seemed to have vines collecting within them, contorting what was pure. I gathered my presence and heeded that what ever was consuming this place. *"Roses wilt not because of time, but they sense the fading of love,* These thoughts were gaining pace in my subconscious. *"Memories are some time better left under the carpet sometimes we can sweep pain away,* I started convulsing, then once again regained my composure. was this me or the memories that we ashes in my mind. From others now fluttering in this garden of oblivion, that now heeds its name sake so very well. The shadows were now surrounding others like sharks tasting that scent of blood, but here I think it was fear.. I noticed that the vines were echoing, I slight pulse of aura permeated from them. In my ignorance of staring a shadow had lingered upon the painting of my feet and within a moment a searing pain collected within. this was it as I started to flake away... But then it was not me it was the shadow becoming fixated on me and then cracks illuminated from it and what was once a lingering gaze of quite a stature... "What the hell was going on?? It looked at me in vacant gratitude, then saw the shades lingered upon it and once again ash fell, autumn leaves falling on fire.. this time it was different though as I grasped upon its figure it was whole again.. it was more than before though it was as I was.. It spoke in soft tones.. "You are new here, "Yes, how do you know, "Because this place is meant for the dead, Where are you from? "Where frozen in death, static decaying life, "I recognize you now you were in the stasis chambers. "Yes, were in our own purgatory" **"Our own selfish need to linger on more than the clock is meant to count has lead us here,** I pondered on his references and knew that, I had done this out a need to exist longer than time had given me, not thinking of what lay beyond that notion. I told him my name was lunar regent, and when I first got here the place looked much different, but they touched upon me they feel like ash. He stopped me there! "You are the course of all what has perspired in this place, "Me but I didn't do anything? "Your alive where we are dead, "Your like a lighthouse in the dark, "But everything you linger on, drowns in the evanescence, I stood back in disbelief, I'm the villain! The desecrator of this once tomb of thought that has no reason to doubt their existence. "How do we stop it? Jump in the pools of shadow and do what you did before, always grab on when the shades linger on the new infused apparition of reflection. We went through this motion, it felt like weeks, as every emotion that had lacerated within me fell like tears of happiness from my grasp. We had continued, and new faces and gratitude had graced my eyes.. what was once fleeting images and layers of reflection and thought became form the oblivion I once gazed up now was a garden of reality... **"We are all grateful for this last moment. to see ourselves as we once were,** **"But we can feel the petals once again fading..** I asked with sorrowful glances of what could be done as this would just be a reparation of what just happened.. I found out that even though clinically dead our brains were monitored and thought is but energy and all lingered in the oblivion of each others memories. This wasn't an existence they wanted they just wanted to die.. to be noting once again as it was meant to be.. **"We will use our residual energy to force you out, to bring you back, please end our suffering,** I didn't have time to even speak as I felt immense pain flood over me, and before I knew it i was cradled on the floor.. So cold, my sight regained and I saw other pods, rubbing the frost from the windows seeing faces that feel like ash before. This wasn't a life.. this was a garden of oblivion, and I was the blossom blowing in the wind. I reached over seeing an emergency panel, gazing at it for what felt like eternity.. I pulled it, as I did alarms rang.. I tipped over a pod unused.. blocking the door way.. Then I collapsed in exhaustion. Awoken by the sounds of a phone ringing, looking up I saw unfamiliar faces. **"Sir are you ok "You have been through a traumatic experience.** "Yes, what about those other people, "They were already dead sir, "Frozen echo's in a chamber of ice, "Pardon sir what was that? "Nothing, how long was in there for? "Two days. "Two days, Once I was well I found out each of there names and visited there graves stones, laying blossoming flowers on each one. Your at piece now friends. There is no garden of oblivion only peace.. I walked of realizing, that life is every moment every breath is one granted by our willingness to see a new sunrise. Mine will come to pass and i will be silent not an echo or in darkness just a memory fading slowly away.

0

Nov 2, 2017

Nov 2, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC

poetic-t

I Was A Blossom In The Garden Of Oblivion [4x4]

As I asserted my standing, slowly like sheep being herded to a cliffs edge. They were each fading in painfully hostile silence.. Have you seen something knowing that this time no matter what, there isn't another existence there is just obliteration of all there essence.. It was like candles being blown out by a chainsaw, but a candle bled in a form of censorship. With me though there ending crept through me like I was feeling every torn filament undoing. These picture once idyllic, but they were more notable of what was befalling them and they ran. Well not ran, the better word would be phasing from one place to another, but the end result was the same, a snow storm of embers fell around me. So beautiful were the shades of each collection. The aura a little different around each one that was falling within me, but it was getting to much to handle so many memories tearing through me. I looked at the surroundings, it like autumn leaves setting in snow, vivid emotions seeping beneath my subconscious, I could see every moment till that final breath... everyone was so cold though, that last lingering moment of fear gnawing within me like paper cuts writing nothing but expressing everything in nothingness. I had accumulated so many endings, such sorrow, some happiness that the lingering moments were fading. But this garden of white roses was being blemished, consumed from within. I could still see these things clinging beneath the surface.. *"One with the will to live, must first except the will to die,* *"Our first inhale, is exhaling the breath that will eventually be the last motion we do before death"* Then as this thought progressed through me, I started to remember things of before? before I was a human popsicle. There were so many machines, so much death paused in its final exhale. Faces in slumber, flowers painted around this garden of oblivion. I looked around, and the bricks of conscious memories were corroding no longer ethereal, what was formed now seemed to have vines collecting within them, contorting what was pure. I gathered my presence and heeded that what ever was consuming this place. *"Roses wilt not because of time, but they sense the fading of love,* These thoughts were gaining pace in my subconscious. *"Memories are some time better left under the carpet sometimes we can sweep pain away,* I started convulsing, then once again regained my composure. was this me or the memories that we ashes in my mind. From others now fluttering in this garden of oblivion, that now heeds its name sake so very well. The shadows were now surrounding others like sharks tasting that scent of blood, but here I think it was fear.. I noticed that the vines were echoing, I slight pulse of aura permeated from them. In my ignorance of staring a shadow had lingered upon the painting of my feet and within a moment a searing pain collected within. this was it as I started to flake away... But then it was not me it was the shadow becoming fixated on me and then cracks illuminated from it and what was once a lingering gaze of quite a stature... "What the hell was going on?? It looked at me in vacant gratitude, then saw the shades lingered upon it and once again ash fell, autumn leaves falling on fire.. this time it was different though as I grasped upon its figure it was whole again.. it was more than before though it was as I was.. It spoke in soft tones.. "You are new here, "Yes, how do you know, "Because this place is meant for the dead, Where are you from? "Where frozen in death, static decaying life, "I recognize you now you were in the stasis chambers. "Yes, were in our own purgatory" **"Our own selfish need to linger on more than the clock is meant to count has lead us here,** I pondered on his references and knew that, I had done this out a need to exist longer than time had given me, not thinking of what lay beyond that notion. I told him my name was lunar regent, and when I first got here the place looked much different, but they touched upon me they feel like ash. He stopped me there! "You are the course of all what has perspired in this place, "Me but I didn't do anything? "Your alive where we are dead, "Your like a lighthouse in the dark, "But everything you linger on, drowns in the evanescence, I stood back in disbelief, I'm the villain! The desecrator of this once tomb of thought that has no reason to doubt their existence. "How do we stop it? Jump in the pools of shadow and do what you did before, always grab on when the shades linger on the new infused apparition of reflection. We went through this motion, it felt like weeks, as every emotion that had lacerated within me fell like tears of happiness from my grasp. We had continued, and new faces and gratitude had graced my eyes.. what was once fleeting images and layers of reflection and thought became form the oblivion I once gazed up now was a garden of reality... **"We are all grateful for this last moment. to see ourselves as we once were,** **"But we can feel the petals once again fading..** I asked with sorrowful glances of what could be done as this would just be a reparation of what just happened.. I found out that even though clinically dead our brains were monitored and thought is but energy and all lingered in the oblivion of each others memories. This wasn't an existence they wanted they just wanted to die.. to be noting once again as it was meant to be.. **"We will use our residual energy to force you out, to bring you back, please end our suffering,** I didn't have time to even speak as I felt immense pain flood over me, and before I knew it i was cradled on the floor.. So cold, my sight regained and I saw other pods, rubbing the frost from the windows seeing faces that feel like ash before. This wasn't a life.. this was a garden of oblivion, and I was the blossom blowing in the wind. I reached over seeing an emergency panel, gazing at it for what felt like eternity.. I pulled it, as I did alarms rang.. I tipped over a pod unused.. blocking the door way.. Then I collapsed in exhaustion. Awoken by the sounds of a phone ringing, looking up I saw unfamiliar faces. **"Sir are you ok "You have been through a traumatic experience.** "Yes, what about those other people, "They were already dead sir, "Frozen echo's in a chamber of ice, "Pardon sir what was that? "Nothing, how long was in there for? "Two days. "Two days, Once I was well I found out each of there names and visited there graves stones, laying blossoming flowers on each one. Your at piece now friends. There is no garden of oblivion only peace.. I walked of realizing, that life is every moment every breath is one granted by our willingness to see a new sunrise. Mine will come to pass and i will be silent not an echo or in darkness just a memory fading slowly away.

160

I remember the bed just floating there. Apart, apart, apart, apart. If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning For example: Homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework See, nothing Our existence? It's the same way. You watch the sun set too often, it just becomes 6 PM You make the same mistake over and over you'll stop calling it a mistake If you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, one day you'll forget why Nothing is forever I last saw my mom when I was four years old Before the last argument they sent me off to the neighbor's house, like some astronaut jettisoned from the shuttle. When I came back there was no gravity in our home, beds floating I imagined it as an accident, that when I left We whispered to each other "I love you" so many times over that they forgot what it meant Family, family, family, family, family, family If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning This became my favorite game It made the sting of words evaporate. Separation, separation, separation; see, nothing Apart, apart, apart; see, nothing I am an injured person now I work with words all day Shut up, I know the irony When I was young, I was taught that the trick to dominating language was breaking it down Convincing it that it was worthless I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.. ...See, nothing Soon after I left I developed a stutter Fate is a cruel and efficient tutor There is no escape in stutter You feel the meaning of every word drag itself up your throat S-s-s-separation Stutter is a cage made of mirrors Every "Are you ok?" Every "What'd you say?" Every "Come on kid, spit it out" Is a glaring reflection you cannot escape Every terrible moment skips upon its own announcement Over and over until it just hangs there, floating in the middle of the room Mom, ........ ....Dad? I am not wasteful with my words anymore. Even now after hundreds of hours of practicing away my stutter, I still feel the claw of meaning in the bottom of my throat. I have heard that even in space; You can hear the scratching of a I-I-I-I love you.

0

Mar 25, 2016

Mar 25, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC

DashAkaX

Lost Meaning

I remember the bed just floating there. Apart, apart, apart, apart. If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning For example: Homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework See, nothing Our existence? It's the same way. You watch the sun set too often, it just becomes 6 PM You make the same mistake over and over you'll stop calling it a mistake If you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, one day you'll forget why Nothing is forever I last saw my mom when I was four years old Before the last argument they sent me off to the neighbor's house, like some astronaut jettisoned from the shuttle. When I came back there was no gravity in our home, beds floating I imagined it as an accident, that when I left We whispered to each other "I love you" so many times over that they forgot what it meant Family, family, family, family, family, family If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning This became my favorite game It made the sting of words evaporate. Separation, separation, separation; see, nothing Apart, apart, apart; see, nothing I am an injured person now I work with words all day Shut up, I know the irony When I was young, I was taught that the trick to dominating language was breaking it down Convincing it that it was worthless I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.. ...See, nothing Soon after I left I developed a stutter Fate is a cruel and efficient tutor There is no escape in stutter You feel the meaning of every word drag itself up your throat S-s-s-separation Stutter is a cage made of mirrors Every "Are you ok?" Every "What'd you say?" Every "Come on kid, spit it out" Is a glaring reflection you cannot escape Every terrible moment skips upon its own announcement Over and over until it just hangs there, floating in the middle of the room Mom, ........ ....Dad? I am not wasteful with my words anymore. Even now after hundreds of hours of practicing away my stutter, I still feel the claw of meaning in the bottom of my throat. I have heard that even in space; You can hear the scratching of a I-I-I-I love you.

59