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Hug
Having
Ultimate
Grief
   well sometimes  Or can mean this
       Hiding
       Ugly
       Guilts
I can taste *****,
and it sounds like you.
 Jan 2015 The Jolteon
DustBall
Thoughts of that
Moment
Circle the drain
What happened
Didn't need to
Could've been misplaced
Amongst others
But
What would it be like
Without the
Memory
Pain
Agony
Would it have been better
Or would I have ended up this way
Anyway
 Jan 2015 The Jolteon
DustBall
Why do we settle for less when we can have it all
We can push ourselves past
Recognition
Past rejection
With everything on the line
You still have something
Unless you sell your heart
Then all you have is a corpse
Of who you used to be
Don't push to hard
You may intend to find yourself
But
May indeed lose yourself
In the adventurous process
 Jan 2015 The Jolteon
DustBall
I am clay
Molded by many hands
Into many shapes
Each person shapes me differently
They don't know what exactly they're doing to me
They think I am the one molding
But I cannot mold myself any longer
You have that power over me
The way you round my edges
And crease my face
That's how you do it
Sometimes I wish you all knew
What exactly was happening
But then I wonder
Would you care enough to stop
Or would you continue
Because you need me
You need to mold someone with your bare hands
To feel superior to something
Even if it kills me
I don't know
Maybe I don't mind anymore
I'm not me anymore
I'm here for you
 Jan 2015 The Jolteon
DustBall
Electricity cackles in my veins
Sings through my ears
To make everything clear and new
Breaking boundaries
I never realized I put up
Slashing cords I used to use to pull myself together
My strings that connected me to the world
Like I was the puppet and fate the puppeteer
The blasting feeling still pumping around my blood stream
Splitting my skin
Opening the box I called my body
Awakening someone I don't know
But will soon
 Jan 2015 The Jolteon
DustBall
You grabbed some letters
Threw them into words
Stuffed them down my throat
And told me to sing
It's a terrible thing,
Making words into sentences
When they aren't your own
They came from you, not me,
Now take them back
But you won't
I'll be stuck with them
As I regurgitate your words
They burn up my throat
And come to life in my mouth
To be set free
Slippery and broken
Rattling through my teeth
I don't know if this is done yet
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