"Vague words that tell us not to be?"
auhsoJHaynes 

The form in which we live our lives

Breeds in the midst of demon hives.

For dogs do bark in senseless fright

At shadows lurking in the night,

And souls shiver at that unseen;

Cathartic reasons not to dream.

Voices whisper ideas, faux truths,

That knowledge has no valid use.

And when we hear, we do obey

The voice that blocks the light of day.

Lamplight dances against cave walls

And childlike wonder slowly falls.

Pavlov shakes his head in sadness,

For we, indeed, are his madness.

And Plato weeps within his cage

For all his truths leave him in rage.

Is all that we can ever see

Vague words that tell us not to be?

"At least that's what they tell me."
olivia grace 

So here I am.
    Within your heartstrings.
     I like to think I flow through your mind like blood flowing through your superior vena cava.

Constant;
And non-chalant.

And there you are.
                    Rolling and rolling and tumbling around the empty train station in my mind.

Like a tumble weed.
Where did you come from?
Were you ever really mine?

What is the color of my eyes?

Grey, like the clouds.
At least that's what they tell me.

But you aren't here very often and only sometimes do you come around with your talent of using words to your advantage even though I'm the only person who sees through your fake persona and too long brown lucious hair.

But this one's for you.

Just like the one I wrote when I first started but that was a different story.
That had a different meaning.
A different message.

That one said;

"I love you."

This one says;

"I still do."

Melody W Nov 2012

Do memories exist from a time
when all you knew was
the warm fluid-filled sac that you were immersed in?

Suspended and trapped,
buoyant like boneless jellyfish,
oblivious to the planetary spin,
or anything, really,
beyond this transparent world
protecting all that is precious

Your tiny ears,
inundated with the
constant drone of a steady pulse (your own)

And yet -

Somewhere in the distance
a single tune,
a strange sweet melody
pure, but diluted
floats down upon your tiny being
grasping tendrils of neurons,
rooting itself in the unknowns of your subconscious,
content not knowing restraint

Only to come back to life,
ignited by -

Anything, really.

©MW
"at will build a fortress around you and tell you the world is not safe for you my ch"
Michael Ryan 

Family what is family.
The people that decide to catch you before you fall.
Or the people that decide to pick up the broken pieces when you’ve been smashed into millions.
The millions of millions that no one else would be willing to pick up.
Even if those millions of millions was just a game to pick up a few missing parts.
They are the ones that will build a fortress around you and tell you the world is not safe for you my child.
But they will let down that gate, even knowing that the world isn’t good enough for you.
Family will have left the gate open for you to leave, but they will always beg for you not to go.
Even after you’ve left that mighty fortress they built all for you, they will cast themselves out to watch over you.
They will be the birds spying over your life, seeming to always be there, singing along to your tune of life.
Although family will also be the birds waiting above in the trees, ruining the new wash done to your car.
They will always mean to do their best; they will give all of what they can give and more.
No matter if they have to fight off the jackals of fate to speak to you once more, they will find a way.
If you are in another castle they will travel once more and once more until they find you again.
No matter how lost you become they will find the light in the deepest of caverns.
And if there is no light they will bring their own, because they know what will lighten you up.
Understanding they will be, knowing that tough times are tough to get out of.
With that knowledge they will be the best to have around, they are the ones that will accept that we all sometimes frown.
They are the blessing of life not only because they build fortresses around you, but have the ability to let you live.
No, they are a blessing because whenever you finally find out that they were the reason to so much happiness.
They will be there wondering, damn how did you just find out?

Spoken word poem, I think most if not all of what I write is spoken word.
"for of lies we tell"
Tessellate 

for of lies we tell
the truth

i tell you how i feel,and
you do the
-same?(neither of could possibly
tell the truth)because
the other would think it of a lie

but when you tell me a lie,i take it as the
truth,and
when i tell the truth(to you)its
a lie?

would i be wrong(although i am right),to assume
that somewhere in the word
         i
       can
      find
ha(love?)te

No.

Iabsolutelyha(you mean more to me than
the water to the stream)teyou

we will never
work out. we just don't understand
eachother

i hope you don't find this too confusing. i was inspired by ee cummings with this one.
"I want to hold you and tell you that"
Tessellate 

i hate to see you this way.
You are my best friend,
i am yours.

You can't just die.
Dying isn't going to fix you,
or heal you.

i want to help you,
but i can't.

Our lives are so deeply intertwined,
but we are both so broken.

I want to hold you and tell you that
everything is going to be okay,
but the truth is,
it's not.

You say you want to die.
You say no one will care,
no one understands you.

Well, what about me?
We are One. I can feel your heart
pound in my chest. I can also feel as you
tear it to shreds.

So if you die,
what about me?

I will die.
You can't leave the autumn leaves that crunch beneath
Our feet.
You can't vanish from all the photos We took, the memories
We share.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE WE ARE ONE

If you leave this world,
you'll leave it a murderer.
because at the moment Your heart stops in
My chest
i will die.

My best friend is going through some tough times, as am i. Together, we are just a mess blood and sorrow. But we are one, she can't leave me no matter how hard she tries.
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