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#thetaintedinkwell
This hushed wind brings about a smaller piece of perpetual silence Swayed by the similarities of tree leaves and people Life ahead of a dawn regarded to wake nonentities Reminded not of the deafening undertones inside a mind Forlorn versifier levy the elegiac deterioration A trepanation of dreary memoirs too sore to cull a pain so congenial. Life seems a responsible suicide. © 2012
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Responsible Suicide
The mirror, consistent bystander, a defiled savior that returns An arid eyeful of the misery masquerading in skin The promises, unturned in the ragged nails Of hands amongst the worn blades, desiccated with blood. Night prefaced by sleep endeavors to hold a zephyr to never wake Keeping a window parsed with misguiding lexis when solitary Escapism writes itself on panes in palls of a routed exhale The walls, sordidly stained with parody of preaching truths Openhanded to the sheer erosion of missing self-misuse And as the dawn reveals the path out redemption's door The fetter of morning's mourning reminds its prisoner of its tethered grip. © 2013
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
Another Asylum
When was the last time you breathed? Staring from the surface- All the color in those cheeks, where is that pristine glow? I must've fallen asleep- Dazed in obedience Just to keep you alive, Sprawled blue across the floor. ... it's still colder... ... than your smile... As I lie safely tucked beside, Your cold skin pierces mine. All the pieces set in place But ever too blind my eye I can bear all the blame, but Death, it was just a child. © 2012
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Death, It Was Just A Child (Remembrance of Sandra Coutévesque)
Curtains dry the atonement of the night. The soul saved coveted by the greedy walls As if no mark could rune a salvation's whisper. Final promise to lie down in stiff limbs, Succumbed to halogen heavens high. Strained dry eyes link blinding halos. Fibers cradle a dry, dark dissertation. Ceramic plates contour new shape As it stains anew with ebbed contempt. It's been so long since I've bled. © 2012
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
So Long