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brock the badger Apr 2016
Now
The world feels only dark and cold
Fear and anxiety
Grief
Rule this head

She is no longer a child
And has lost everything that has belonged to that child;
the Mother, the Light, the Self

But Oh! it was all a choice.
brock the badger Apr 2016
Maybe
I could write these words
In a way which would attract more people
But poetry is coming from a place deep inside,
And is very private
These words are mine


Expelled from my own
Somehow the only thing I will ever own,
But will hold
In a way
Only once
brock the badger Apr 2016
My soul is craving so much.
I can feel it splitting;
my heart is the knife.
brock the badger Apr 2016
I want to **** myself*
She says to the void
The void just closes it's big sleepy midnight eye
turns away
around
pulls the cloak further over its shoulder
Just a back
rippling in silk
The midnight eye curls it's cloak as it turns away
I am alone
trapped on this side of the glass
brock the badger Apr 2016
everything is flipping flipping flipping
sand made of glass light
real or not real?
changing and shifting
a desert
My consciousness an oasis
but also a drought

— The End —