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#metanoia
In a swirling of a whirling come together soft & warm We made something together it breathes a calm storm Remember that day we Metanoia turned into my you, Our churning heart, my soul, inside a lonely of a blue, After a mind turned mad beyond all thought we pray, A change in our very being deep in a wondering sway We orientally unwound moved a wild natured sprawl Meta in the evening different in the turning in our ball Sometimes we are a little weird in our strange dishevel Balanced on a razor's edge-the touch-we kiss-we bevel, Somewhere in that tension, break free, here today gone That slow to the deep becoming awakens in us a dawn- I feel that rock in you change across a forming of a land Despite it all maybe because of it I hold you in my hand
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Mar 25
Mar 25, 2026 at 8:06 AM UTC
In a Swirling of a Whirling
Careless at heart, irreverently playing with fire until the stones would hit me. Were others to turn, I was to linger. Fall from grace, only to stitch back up again, for another spineless attempt to reach the end of the tunnel. Shards of a broken mirror worn as makeup, the weight of my sins, as a black cloak on my shoulders, hiding with guilt behind elaborate escapism. High on airborne pride and delusions holding judgement in the eye, ruling out truth with tragic excuses while bending my knees to faux devotion. Life blinded chasing the fake dreams of a living nightmare— soul slumbering in a vivid comatose. Traversing sideways, always yet the current carried on, unremorseful and unmoored. And in this crescendo of a waste, with everything still to lose, in all those lies, with no more to gain, out of fire and stone— was I born. A last resort, with my first breath after coma, choosing life before death. Oh, had the light reached sooner, I’d forgive myself once more, to forget the crimes of my mind.
0
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 7:10 PM UTC
Comatose
I have to wait now impatient, uncertain of what the future holds for me. I get to wait here safe, while millions face peril hoping for a tomorrow.
0
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 11:23 AM UTC
Lockdown Metanoia
You're just another pawn Hearing the same **** Doing the same task Saying the same script From the one, behind a mask
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Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 4:50 AM UTC
Planned
I don’t know what hurt worse, The tick-tock And clock in all – Or the waiting, Just one more second, The wanting, One last second And be ****** The wine stained sand And buzzards atop ear; Always to remind of how I’d Loved and ultimately Failed.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
Metanoia
As moments pass, so do we Mindful, loving, learning to see Passing as people, a staying friend Hoping these moments never end.
0
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
This Frail Engine
This is going to be kind of like a journal entry. I never keep a journal, but I feel like doing it, so I'm going to do it. It's like, the first step in a long line of many, mini steps. Almost ready. I feel like I should stretch out before I start. Ballistic. You know, like a fighter or something. Okay. Here I go. Right now I'm stuck in this little bubble. I got put here by some trouble just a few years ago. Man, it was ****** up **** like the most ****** up I've ever been in. Life, as they say, got the best of me. **** came first, then beer all day er'day, spending my living living with some ****** up ***** who's bad with money. We matched 'cause I'm ****** up. I ****** up, 'cause I shut up. First time lifestyle collaborator, so it was like, man what-am-uh-gonna-say? I feel love and I've been conditioned to just ride that **** with pride on your **** Don't tell me I don't know what I want man. I've got my head on straight. Don't hate. Haters can't appreciate romance, bro. Come back when you learn that, yo. I don't blame the drugs, so I kept 'em when we left together, but in different directions. Live-in gone. Foundation rot. Suspension shot. **** **** **** **** I hit ground with my teeth. Instead of asking for help when it was needed I took help that kept me breathing till I could ***** my head on almost too many terrible months in the future which I never thought I would see in fruition, and I admit in volition that (cough) (cough) I almost lost myself totally, *********** stripped of the holy one and only. One and only. We've. Received. Bad vibes. So now there's nearly nothing to my name unless you count the meter it retains. But I've got flies in my pocket that I sprinkle for pepper in my popcorn bag. There's no space for me here but there's vacancy in the matrix. And I see the signs lit up. Being singular not enough? I'd rather be rich and ubiquitous than poor and bored while I whittle the days away, feeding my head with whatever's left from original message I received. I've opened that **** and I tried it on for 23, pressed to impress but it wasn't me. Listen when I say it, 'cause I'm serious, now that my name is worthless what could it hurt to burn some synapses and knight myself? After all I don't count on being rescued from this hell. What's my name? Anything will do. But it's got to be very memorable and cool. How should I glow when I get outta this cocoon? Take it to the Max. Normal won't do, 'cause it's gotta be catchy for the TV and YouTube. I won't be a copycat, no, never. It's just gonna be the me that I've eternally received only under my belt, tight to the extreme. Like. The lost. Before.
0
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
Metanoia: Loss to Fine
This is going to be kind of like a journal entry. I never keep a journal, but I feel like doing it, so I'm going to do it. It's like, the first step in a long line of many, mini steps. Almost ready. I feel like I should stretch out before I start. Ballistic. You know, like a fighter or something. Okay. Here I go. Right now I'm stuck in this little bubble. I got put here by some trouble just a few years ago. Man, it was ****** up **** like the most ****** up I've ever been in. Life, as they say, got the best of me. **** came first, then beer all day er'day, spending my living living with some ****** up ***** who's bad with money. We matched 'cause I'm ****** up. I ****** up, 'cause I shut up. First time lifestyle collaborator, so it was like, man what-am-uh-gonna-say? I feel love and I've been conditioned to just ride that **** with pride on your **** Don't tell me I don't know what I want man. I've got my head on straight. Don't hate. Haters can't appreciate romance, bro. Come back when you learn that, yo. I don't blame the drugs, so I kept 'em when we left together, but in different directions. Live-in gone. Foundation rot. Suspension shot. **** **** **** **** I hit ground with my teeth. Instead of asking for help when it was needed I took help that kept me breathing till I could ***** my head on almost too many terrible months in the future which I never thought I would see in fruition, and I admit in volition that (cough) (cough) I almost lost myself totally, *********** stripped of the holy one and only. One and only. We've. Received. Bad vibes. So now there's nearly nothing to my name unless you count the meter it retains. But I've got flies in my pocket that I sprinkle for pepper in my popcorn bag. There's no space for me here but there's vacancy in the matrix. And I see the signs lit up. Being singular not enough? I'd rather be rich and ubiquitous than poor and bored while I whittle the days away, feeding my head with whatever's left from original message I received. I've opened that **** and I tried it on for 23, pressed to impress but it wasn't me. Listen when I say it, 'cause I'm serious, now that my name is worthless what could it hurt to burn some synapses and knight myself? After all I don't count on being rescued from this hell. What's my name? Anything will do. But it's got to be very memorable and cool. How should I glow when I get outta this cocoon? Take it to the Max. Normal won't do, 'cause it's gotta be catchy for the TV and YouTube. I won't be a copycat, no, never. It's just gonna be the me that I've eternally received only under my belt, tight to the extreme. Like. The lost. Before.
Continue reading...
31
So you've been doing well and you're engaged, so nice. "Happy for you" doesn't begin to explain the feeling I've been taking to bed every night. When I get sad over life and look at pictures of slit wrists, I let the memories flood in. Shuffling to our room in midday dead set on apologies. Finding you stretched out and half dead. Finding you stretched out and half dead, you said, "You did this to me." I bet I'd be better off if I'd left with my cigarettes But as it stands I can wish you well, and for your husband the same hell, to reach the soul you never had. I hope he's happy in laughter like me, when I meet you in dreams. I am not humble in memory.
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC
Metanoia: (1) New Message
Terror turns its wheel in your stomach with fried rice, while again the streaming stops as your computer checks are you just sleeping or dead? I've had it up to here with high speed I get sick, the faster that I eat -- I have an ego and toilet to feed with refuse So fearful, we, of death push for prevention, instead, accelerate. accelerate accelerate x, x, x, x, x
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
Metanoia: Number Muncher