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#vexation
Restless are the eyes that follow searching out a purpose, some nameless claim, so warm, tepid, and full of oceanic wonder; those following two--- those damp spheres of shade. Regrettably, a thought arrives--- I did not request your name, lovely living statue, found of selective voice. Mark my posture as a ship listing on the waves, turn back to port, turn back to safety, return to the familiar these things I know. Pulse cease, disquiet chamber place hold and become stagnant, meaning and reason please return; human folly was born of myself, and remains nameless, such as my captive audience. Such bindings of flesh and form, build me to agony, and remain a prisoner of chemistry this creature, this mystery, this name--- was never offered to me in kind. I suppose--- there are things best kept hidden, not spoken loud as the heart manages its uttering I walk down the hallway, perceiving your gaze at journey's end. Slowly still, my footsteps fall in procession and knowing not at all, when the day concludes such thinking is above my own and I am left to wonder if such a goddess was ever meant to have earthly title.
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Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 2:17 PM UTC
Eyes (I have not seen the like)
I was the crashing waves, I was the rip tide, I was the storm-- The ebb and flow only ever tamed By the moonlight in his eyes. But you You were predictable, The way you moved so lyrical. You were both the tree sprout, And the atomic bomb That ripped its' roots out. I was the crash of water into flesh. I could heal, I could bruise; Either way, the feeling was always fresh. There is no soul I won't one day possess, There is no dream I can't hinder the progress. Toy with me, And the oxygen in your lungs will be suppressed, But, hell, nevertheless... You are land, You are plants. You hold still Your instability. But in this/ your insanity You have no deniability. You did this to me, You must finally Hold some accountability. Tectonic plates shift And tear They rip Year after year. What comes from the sea Can always return to the sea. The end of you, The end of me. My waters will swallow you whole.
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Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
What were you, again?
Vicious black rage enveloped his eyes Electric hate cycled through him Naturally he resorted to the action he knew best Graphically and meticulously he planned his revenge Enhancing his weaknesses into strengths Forward he went, ready for bloodshed Undoubtedly he went for is first five on the list Letting his cold vexation take over -EC
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
Vengeful