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 Jun 2022 Chuck Kean
izzn
silence could never calm
that of
which is maimed;
fairly to make heard of
the shattering
that would not mend.
5 years and every time i close my eyes it feels like i was back at that time again
This is you
This is me
This is…

This is the time
This is the place
This is…

This is the moment
This is…

This is,
what I want
to do
with you
Just this…

This journey
This adventure
This…

This memory
This moment
Only in this time…

During this time
during this
moment
with you
This is
This is.

Because
this is
with you.

© HF-Whisper
01/06/2022-11:46-50PM
‘Dedicated to JP.’
In the morning mist
Shrouded from the light
A world is left behind
Approaching day
Departing night
Warm womb cradling deep
The shadow land between
Wakening and sleep
Nothing speaks of today
Or vanquished yesterday
No body and no mind
No-one to worry for
No-one to hurry for
Nothing to say
I’m sane
Or not sane
Worthy or not
I am awakening
I almost forgot
Day taking its revenge
Rehearsing for the play
Reluctant actor cast
Parts for the future
Roles from the past
Pleasure mixed with pain
The morning mist remains
A warm womb cradling deep
Before the final sleep
Until the bitter end
My comforter and friend
2 coolios met at Rugby's and we
  crawled into each others heart.
  We died for 3 days and rose again
  into Southern light a fresh start.
Even if the lyrics
To our song
Were none
It could be
A beautiful one...
My heart is
Waiting
To be filled
By your notes and chords
Go ahead
Practice on me...
I am here
Sometimes there just aren't enough words to express our deepest emotion...but music alone can convey it...just take the time to listen
 Jun 2022 Chuck Kean
N
My dear, I am writing you from the depths of my solitude, to ease your worried heart and mind. Loneliness has been gnawing at my terrified flesh as of late. Yet, my only wish is to remain alone. Unseen and untouched. I think this is pure joy, or the illusion of it. But I am content at this very moment. I promise.

You might think that I am slowly sinking. That I will soon reach the bottom of the ocean, and you fear it is too dark and solitary there. That I might not survive my own madness— not this time, not by myself. That I cannot swim nor do I intend to learn how to. That I willingly gave my body to Poseidon as a peace offering. That I finally made my peace— not with God, but with a god nonetheless. That I am all swallowed up. That I will not see you again. That I will die lamenting your forgotten smile. That Azrael, the angel of death, weeps over my doom. That I have died long ago—
But how can a corpse feel such emotions?
How do I tell my stubborn heart that it is not beating for you any longer?
How do I comfort my frantic soul by lulling it to an eternal sleep?
—And if so then tell me, my dearest one, don’t I deserve serenity, too? After burning for a decade, yearning for a safe haven. Do you think I finally deserve to rest?
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