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#poe9
I blink the room to a distant light source, the power shifts, a balance or blue and black, Black and blue goes my heart, as my mind argues if I did everything, right, My eyes know this haze, heavy workload has weighed down these lids, Unable to scavenge, left to rely on a system that tends to repeat, that tends to repeat, I blink the room becomes a distant light source, No matter how far I can feel it's indifference, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississippi, Is the distance between me and the next crash, Sipping on the adrenaline kicker, find, That between the moment of here and now is a very long time, 1 Apple, 2 Apple, 3 Apple, 4 Apple, Seconds don't always repeat, What should I do today? I blink the lights to a blue a lot of us know.
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May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 10:09 AM UTC
Blue light Dreamer
I tend to forget about all that goes on in my life, Each mental note is burned, Like a moth enticed by the beautiful flame, No matter the importance, Each trial becomes engulfed by the bigger questions, That tend to argue about my very existence, Every realization of growth rises in smoke, A puff of air released from my lungs, Blows it away into the blissful nothingness, That sits in front of us all, What remains is not memory, Nor is it emotions, They are questions, That only fuel the fire lit between, My breaths and dreams.
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May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 9:22 PM UTC
Knock On The Wood Frame
Slipped the whole way to the train, Acted and taught about what it means to be you, Walked over lakes back from the train.
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 8:17 PM UTC
To shorten the following day
The thought of you Attaches itself to the fleeting youth Every day passes, we age To see each other Just another thought
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC
Pacing
Right now is where things are going to take a turn, The roundabout welcomes another hurried passenger, The biker sits idle, The circle goes on, days past and we are again at "the last", Round and round, To leave is only to return, Weaving a knot to the difference (conscious) that is me, An infinite point watching every decision, Only a glimpse from the rear view mirror We are road locked, tied up, Eventruly drifting off into a sleep that could wind up taking others, Are you alone in the car? Are you alone in the car? Treat you passengers with care, Pray for a good review for when you finally stop, Or get out and let someone else become the commander of what roundabout you take, It may be fun.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
Roundabout
I am going to lie On a black mirror I wrote Discribed in detail how it would be done Finished it with a signature In the finest of gold ink Watch it dry I find in the words That I spoke truth The beauty of this lie Had transformed from a speech When I spoke the lie was apparent I was able to write the truth But when I told you A lie is all you heard
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
Black Mirror
I have thought of these words, not the ones you may hear when your body presses to the air, and the sound-waves go unobstructed, no the words lay here on a page, within a thought that didn't happen today but might show up tomorrow, recorded by the blood of bone, water, and metal, each etched mark, stains the memory of a time when oxygen was free and clean to breathe, finding out that the next moment these words are consumed, their meaning becomes a new personality, these thought words and the specific tact and errors, prolonging the flow from the head to the finger tips, thus causing minor adjustments, which make even the most thought out words seem like they have no true, maybe real, meaning, accused we stand, on trial, only a judge begging for a recess, but my closing statement is not finished.
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:52 PM UTC
A Gravitational Pull
If there is no sound there will be a guidance of breathing exercises, gently rocking our over worked minds, It is to take no offence in sleeping during routine check ups, our eyes could also use the rest, but listening is unavoidable and it will find you in the silence, Seeps into your eardrums and upset the peaceful balance
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Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
A Segment
I am a rambler that takes his job seriously Nestled under the bridge away from light So that those who cross fear my words Omniscient among the belief I am alone Married minds think the rambler crazy No one dare tell me, unable to join me Isolated instances have come and gone A story the rambler holds in secret Curable only by hiding it in his rambles
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Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
I'm becoming my words
There  once was a boy lost in the woods, he was not lost at first, but became soon after, because you see he fell in love with a monster, It inthralled him, at first he tired to coax it, lying to it showing it gold and giving it food, pleased with his efforts he tried to take it home, but it turned and ran, but that is not when he gave chase, he waited a day, then two, then four, that would be about a week, maybe more or less, but to him it was an eternity without his monster. Oh but it came back, surprised its self the monster did when it saw the boy standing where it had left him,  the boy remained motionless, but that could be for many reasons, but he'd claim he was trying to freeze time, and maybe he did, either way motionless he remained, till the monster moved close enough to be in reach, as it reached to touch his face, he grabbed it, victory, victory, his eyes closed filled with tears, opening he looked at his capture, no longer was it his monster, it was all a dream, he had fallen asleep in the forest, and now is lost.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
Ramble #2