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Traci Eklund Nov 2013
he tenderly sips whiskey
as the love creeps away with the light of the day
awakens the night of decay
inches upon inches of white
frosted window seal
the flicker of the lantern
the ****** appeal of a light so warm
reflecting upon aging skin
so fragile and worn
the sheets musky
blue eyes staggered
still praying to god for gift he has yet to reap
still sowing a life, the scars so deep
down the hatch rolls the whiskey
singing songs of sorrow
as he closes his eyes
with his silent breath rises tomorrow...
Traci Eklund Nov 2013
my body is decaying like the leaves of november
you'll never know what its like to be
stuck out in the cold
with the smoke crawling down your throat
coughing out into the night
your echos carry
farther than you can see
they whisper inauable cries
as crisp as the winters night
everything so foreign to my aging skin
whats real on the outside
what is real within
can you call me out on my actions
or just bare to see me seep
seep into the ground
where you stand
my eyes witness you weap
is this misfortune
or an illness that has gone too deep
who is there to say we don't feel the same pain
we all stare at the same galaxies
even though blind to we
we all feed off the same soil
our hands etched so deep
we synthesize the same
born and die
breathe and sleep the same
some shorter than others
but were human
don't try to deny we are the same
beating hearts with a will to live
even when we abuse
we all yearn for the same
another tomorrow absent of pain
Traci Eklund Oct 2013
I'd be lying if I said,
'Dear I haven't died before.'
Those bittersweet goodbyes,
when you turn your back...
Those moments in turn may blow away like ash.
A lot of these journeys are to build yourself,
conquer the stranger you face in the mirror.
We need to sit alone in lamp light...
Sip tea alone in the dark, covered in rain,
feel the essence of our beating hearts,
feel the cold radiate from the tips of toes to our cracked lips,
give thanks to those that came before us
who walked back out that door
to those who stayed and continue to give us more and more
thank you to those who added to this experience
our lives are just random moments strung together into a time frame
that sum up another being attempting this weird concept of existing
Traci Eklund Oct 2013
in the night i treat you like a shadow,
in the light your like a glare of the sun,
I see your figure and I run...
tragity is treating the one you loved like a stranger,
seeing their presence as a fear,
sense the danger...
there is nothing left to say
when its all come to grey
when the moments have come to fade
when all you hold is now empty air
its tragity to see the things you love come and disappear...
Traci Eklund Sep 2013
the bed is empty
try to fill it with foreign bodies
when my skin graces theirs
its cold
their eyes so desolate...
where's the love I used to know?
this heart of mine is vacant
a quick one, then they go,
I am left there tired
feeling used and old...
where's the love I used to know?
Traci Eklund Sep 2013
you may exsist
but you are a ghost to me
as am I
for it seems you never knew me
oh the sweet irony
oh the innocent trust
oh I don't blame you
for who am I to say
the flaws I release are as real as yours
but I know that the blood I bleed
may of led you astray
as for I know I was never easy
in the end
love fades like the light in my eyes that night
when I believed it would last for awhile
but every moment is fleeting
every promise is misleading
or so I have learned
the lines got tangled
I was choking myself out
I would be lying if I said I was alright
for I have seen my mistakes in the clearest light
the reflection in the mirror oh so real
the reality of my position, spinning fast as the wheel
thank you for all its worth
I may now be a ghost of these streets
those memories just linger in the air I breathe
I feel the cold of the pavement beneath my feet
you are now a ghost
for it seemed none of this never happened
maybe, oh maybe we can just forget
or at least I hope you suceed
the last time we spoke still haunts me
so dry and dull
the words so stale and short
in time
all good things must come to and end
and so it did...it is better that way
Traci Eklund Jul 2013
paint drips down your finger tips,opaque
the stentch of coffee, sweet colgne
engalfed in world far from what we've known

the stars are spinning, the world turns black
the fridged cold that wisps down your back
left there standing in a world familar, stone
but miles in thought in place called home

timid creature, a human being,
a man of wonder consumed by demons

where is the love you crave the most
a reflected shadow, a long past ghost.
the silent solitude grows and grows,
whos there to give answers, when you question why
to hold your shaking body, consumed by lies
where is there to wander,
when the foot prints have gone away
to make sense of these passing hours
morphing into days

bound to wood, a worn canvas, a man,
making sense of colour, the strokes, an extension of his hand
boiling over in sense of rage, across the palette a water haze
sensible man, turns his cheek in fear
I too turn away from the people I fear

the ones who betray,
the ones who you love,
the dreams you conjured,
the unknown you ponder,
the pursuit of happiness and love.

the reflection can be daunting
the person you see
I too am confussed which direction this life will carry me.

when the weight is heavy,
you can conflide in me.
or let the pencil be you guide
may the lines set you free.
may the shades of darkness and shades of light
give you comfort
may the hues of the seasons bring you closer to yourself,
or wallow in your tea and coffee,
sleep within your creation
explore your deepest wealth
life, the pursuit of learning to being human.
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