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#wallowing
Somewhere in a casket, Random in my ransacked room,never opened. I have your silhouettes stored, Those which I presume a man would never behold. I imagine your shoulders broad, Splendid as a bridge across my glee,over which my eyes could be driven. While I could be soaked in your chest, For you be so taller. Your skin being tight and thick, Such as it already feels to be bugging in. Your kurta being loose weighed down, Revealing the sweated collar bones,and much of the rest. Your complexion could melt upon me, Wallowing under the sheets. Your caustics could potentially outshine mine, Up to the brink, your douchebaggery could shine. You may sing anything, Ghazals or even hums, Your baritone could lull me to sleep,with the heft and flatness of it,with some added tunes. Our towns could be kilometers apart,or the residents even for light years, Might be the same for our creeds. Your breath could be a bower, To the desert of mine. Your eyes being shrunk crescent moon, With the lashes too dense,but sight like an arrow piercing. Your poetry could define, And for being poet from you I wouldn't envy. Your resilience could be better than mine, And your adamant nature,suffice to repeat an act a million times,to achieve the desired. Unlike me an ergophile, You could draw a better parallel line. You were allowed to smoke, For it, I have an affinity untold. Your profession be any, Your passion be vehement,I promise then, to find you in graphite and mullar and heard in Mozart's. Your hands masculine,with the veins bulged, And circlets and totem wrapped,red and orange around. Skies be your preferred roof Under the rainy sky,the sharing of petrichor shall feel sanctified. Your gales be a crescendo Of delight. Your age could be more to mine, But things could be divine.
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Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 1:02 PM UTC
His vibes
Somewhere in a casket, Random in my ransacked room,never opened. I have your silhouettes stored, Those which I presume a man would never behold. I imagine your shoulders broad, Splendid as a bridge across my glee,over which my eyes could be driven. While I could be soaked in your chest, For you be so taller. Your skin being tight and thick, Such as it already feels to be bugging in. Your kurta being loose weighed down, Revealing the sweated collar bones,and much of the rest. Your complexion could melt upon me, Wallowing under the sheets. Your caustics could potentially outshine mine, Up to the brink, your douchebaggery could shine. You may sing anything, Ghazals or even hums, Your baritone could lull me to sleep,with the heft and flatness of it,with some added tunes. Our towns could be kilometers apart,or the residents even for light years, Might be the same for our creeds. Your breath could be a bower, To the desert of mine. Your eyes being shrunk crescent moon, With the lashes too dense,but sight like an arrow piercing. Your poetry could define, And for being poet from you I wouldn't envy. Your resilience could be better than mine, And your adamant nature,suffice to repeat an act a million times,to achieve the desired. Unlike me an ergophile, You could draw a better parallel line. You were allowed to smoke, For it, I have an affinity untold. Your profession be any, Your passion be vehement,I promise then, to find you in graphite and mullar and heard in Mozart's. Your hands masculine,with the veins bulged, And circlets and totem wrapped,red and orange around. Skies be your preferred roof Under the rainy sky,the sharing of petrichor shall feel sanctified. Your gales be a crescendo Of delight. Your age could be more to mine, But things could be divine.
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Piles and piles of garbage Everywhere In my room In my brain Clutter In my mind I'm too busy sitting in it To do any spring cleaning
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
Garbage
i feel Complexity oft times guilt that I can't hide or abstain on things that should, for the moment stay hidden Released in peace
0
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 7:29 AM UTC
white truths
I don't feel much I don't remember much I don't bask in sentiments or think too much of sentients... but certain objects do linger on... some I keep boxed in preciously bejewelled and polished the smell of your skin rubbing against mine my scent on your shirt carried by the cold night air the touch of your hair soft, comforting... the warmth of your embrace how many years ago was it now?...
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Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Wallowing
away from the light we fly with an innate attraction to darkness, and when it hearkens, we willingly follow, covering our ears gouging our eyes out without thought we wallow in darkness again
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
darkness
dig your way out of this black hole and write to me from the mountaintop.
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
an epitaph
Not so sure I know how to stop When I look at you I feel my heart drop You weren't my partner, you were my friend I knew someday it would have to end But why did you leave me when I was down My entire life was turned around I was falling hard with no way out There was too much **** to worry about I'm sorry to say I was in love with you Though there's all the pain you put me through You hurt me more than ever before This much hurt, I hoped not to endure I love you more than I've loved anyone And I can't bear to know that we're done
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Got Your Back
Sometimes Everything hits you at once-- Like a train car Full blast No breaks All at once you're sad You're sick You're alone You're a mess And you reach out For help, Only to find that when They try to help you They try to rob you Of your pain And sometimes You just aren't done with it just yet---
0
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Wallowing
Where's the fine line between normality and depression?
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Line
I saw demise in her eyes acceptance of a summarized existence in this instance incidentally its in stints well baby take my hand and we'll ride the intertwining serpentine you feelin my energy in an instant i feel i know you missed this lips reveal whats sealed from description oh woe to words, absurd innately oh woe to words' deceptive paintings We owe an ode to the world, and im thinking maybe its this moment its this moment in this moment I feel relative in this moment, man, im so not relevant what tomorrow holds, there is no tellin ya weve only just crossed paths yet Ive known you for millennia Universal Invocations serendipitous relations deceitful daggers draped in red cloths slash at eternal hearts carried by temporary raven claws disperse fall into insanity and land in my lap of chance no more wallowing in the mire rhetorical kiaros at a glance awake, shake these dreams from my hair evaporate those inhibitions into thin air exposed soul, open emotion to bare tip-toeing the peripherals of Medusa's glare convergence in a vicious cycle vinyl in perpetual spiral, we rendezvous in eternity convergence in a vicious cycle vinyl in perpetual spiral, situated, stuck internally Many moons might fall and several suns will set but in this instance, together, we'll always be infinite
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
INFINITE INSTANCE