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  Jul 2016 Unknown
"In this wold,
we are just words.
And we need space
to be understood."
  Jul 2016 Unknown
When all the love is pure,
when your hope and faith is full,
when the ocean isn't pulling back,
the setting sun is yours to touch.
When lips would wake you up
and lips would bid good night--
fall as a fog into the gloomy woods
for your love knows no sun and moon.
When the storm is just a whisper
and the weather is just a news--
you are the burn and the shiver
between his pillows and sheets.
When all of these had faded fast
*I'll remember you as my first and last.
  Jun 2016 Unknown
"We roam the cities of yesterday
every time we wake up for
tomorrow's morning
just to find out that our souls
are lost somewhere between*
*the fading sun and the rising night."
  Jun 2016 Unknown
Every **** night, I wake up here--
under the sheets of the stars
and the smoke of burning glaciers;
where the world chases me
through doors and hanging cliffs.
I run miles in repeat undoubtedly
like I am meant to, but I'm not.
But am I really meant to?
Every **** night, I am clouded
with the lullaby of fears,
fading lives, and cries of demons.
Every **** night, I wake up here--
from counting sheep each night
to fall to waking up
in a dream of killing of oneself.
just go to sleep
  Mar 2016 Unknown
Through the thick walls of this building,
the coldness of yesterday's promise crawls
and haunts me around in a maze of halls
where neither end nor start exists.
No holes or doors, windows and rooms
I placed myself in a game
where insanity blooms.
The days kept running and nights kept coming.
I slowly grew gray and pale
and my nourishment, drained.
I withered to dusts and became nothing
for I waited eternity to arrive
but made a visitor in me.
  Feb 2016 Unknown
words are being watched
and actions are being read
feelings were never expressed
and thoughts were never said
  Feb 2016 Unknown
I can still see you in the dark
     and as I trace your silhoutte on my wall,
     you juggle your last piece of
     cigarette between your fingers--
     disregarding the heat.

I can still feel you in the wind
     with your scent that draws
     all the girls in town to you
     or even when you smell like alcohol
     and fall from your seat.

I can still write down your name
     when I thought my pens
     grew tired of bleeding for you
     and now my blank sheets will be your tomb--
     keep them marking on repeat.
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