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"emptyness" poems
I've been told that a catapiller wrapped snuggly in it's cacoon like the bed-time burrito of my youth feels very simular to the feeling i give when i hug. I've been told that i squeez just right, with the warmth of a summer night. I've been told I hug like a lover seeing her soldier for the first time in years. The few people i hug ask me how i hug so well. I don't. I hug with the pain of yesterday. I hug with the scars on my wrists and the blood on my legs. I hug with the overdoses, the addictions, the emptyness, the abondonment. When i hug, i send a message.
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Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
When i hug
The time sways Forth and back Through the light Happiness shines Smiling bright Everything that felt fine Now are crowded in a sack Closed, taped, not my way It kills me,little slow deaths To have them go with A part of me alive Why do the cure of emptyness Has to have an end Left with that painless ache That creates a hole deep in pain A member lost in my chaos Returned by their ignorance In the place which thy fitted Now asks for coverage It can't even be masked For they cutted it broad and wide It kills me,little slow deaths To have them go With a part of me alive. That they never feel How my elated heart smiled When their smiles were around They never cared for what I gave up in the flick of eyes Mesmerised by the sunkissed times All they did was, Find the ink to my page And filled me up with their Promising words All they did then was Give up on me When they found that I was filled up to brimm So they took away me from me With some that belonged there's And with some that I never cared. All they did was left me bereft.
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Bereft
I feel the cold ..the cold within fightin ,biting..a painless din creeping slowly yet full of speed the coldness claws ..my feet retreat Mind so full of emptyness ..yet spinning ,grasping faultless youth hurt inside ..the mad old fool itching for the real truth
0
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 2:41 AM UTC
mole
"What is your talent? Can you show me?" He asked me, obliviously. "My affinity isn't something that can be seen." I replied. "It isn't a fancy circus trick, like juggling, nor is it the astonishing spectacle of a painting. It isn't the beauty of a voice, or the magnificent sound of music to the ears. My ability is from the inside, from the way one simple sentence could turn your whole life around. It's the way words could understand you like nobody ever can, the way quotes or phrases fill the emptyness of your heart, and the way it awakens a sensation you may have never been able to feel before. So, no, I cannot show you what my talent is, as it is the way I can transfer a set of emotions to you with just the enunciation of a word." And with that, I, yet again, rendered another soul speechless.
0
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
My talent can not be shown
we see the world as a whole we talk to others like to poles I'm sitting aside you just like a tree let me tell you som'n, do you agree? My entire life is all about me my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be! since I'm the stack of body parts I consider this world like my heart the sun will shine as doubt will grow I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes the more i see the less doubt be and when my eyes roll out and blow I stop and stare, seeing the lies that was allowing all doubts to be human interactions are contradictory because heart and brain are different history my heart for humans will always be bold my brain for its knowledge will never be sold so the reason of that contradiction is that we're doing things in the wrong direction putting our heart in interactions brainy analyse the human nations once we've flipped it 90 degree human interactions will finally be free. I see children as my fingers and veteran as my toes the latter have the wisdom so I keep them at the bottom so I can stand tall like Heroes. Children are important so i teach them daily I keep them accurate and let them work freely for they are the essence of things that most matters TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops! know yourself and you'll know the world cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Body Parts
we see the world as a whole we talk to others like to poles I'm sitting aside you just like a tree let me tell you som'n, do you agree? My entire life is all about me my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be! since I'm the stack of body parts I consider this world like my heart the sun will shine as doubt will grow I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes the more i see the less doubt be and when my eyes roll out and blow I stop and stare, seeing the lies that was allowing all doubts to be human interactions are contradictory because heart and brain are different history my heart for humans will always be bold my brain for its knowledge will never be sold so the reason of that contradiction is that we're doing things in the wrong direction putting our heart in interactions brainy analyse the human nations once we've flipped it 90 degree human interactions will finally be free. I see children as my fingers and veteran as my toes the latter have the wisdom so I keep them at the bottom so I can stand tall like Heroes. Children are important so i teach them daily I keep them accurate and let them work freely for they are the essence of things that most matters TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops! know yourself and you'll know the world cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
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40
Howbout emptyness. Howbout sorrow. Howbout not 'living' to see tomorrow. Howbout it? A round of applause for a lost cause. For All that **** stuck under my shoe! All the **** I stumble thru! All the 'its' pronounced post 'Shhh'! Those are the screams of my inner being. Clawing it's way out from the depths of hell. I know. You cant tell. It's better that noone really knows me. It's a lot easier. Trust me.
0
Nov 27, 2009
Nov 27, 2009 at 10:49 AM UTC
How 'bout it?
Inner working of my insanity you know well. green fairy cube of sugar over ice water its tender journey few need to undersand. So you travle a abstract road and bury your soul underneath the ice. Cold in hell beauthy in darkness veils of sanity but velvet embers of a strange haunting scene. It is the curse and i the moth to it's flame. death of tommorows cast visions of a oceans sound. I am but a leaf cast over dark waters never struggle just drift. In history I travle speaking in tones surreal to my ear. if so shall i slip will insanity be but a moment fractured in dream. Screams in a far off space so distant from mine. No pain exists here for im gone in form. A painting in a stars t moon cast scenes erased by light. Where i go none should follow for the price is only for the distant in thought to pay. Emptyness cascades in the past so for now here i yern only to stay. Green in light wormwoods fire sweet in bliss. No path is ever set. Tragedy in play i cast no regrets apon my stage. A ear in respect a razor in hand. I slice into a faint glimmer no pain shall I understand nights cloak the dawn days cast stories unwritten. In genius we find insanitys child. Broken glass cuts clear my moments are chipped as of stone. Time knows me not for i am but speck in a waters fall. Nightmares and my destined fate. Kissed of vemon. She in madness hold's open the path to my visions gate. Between death and dream insanity and a razors gleam. From the darkest space does my page bleed to write. Will you **** my thought only glorify the loss of mind. In the drinks madness my genius I shall never yern to find.
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Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 6:24 AM UTC
Absinthe
Inner working of my insanity you know well. green fairy cube of sugar over ice water its tender journey few need to undersand. So you travle a abstract road and bury your soul underneath the ice. Cold in hell beauthy in darkness veils of sanity but velvet embers of a strange haunting scene. It is the curse and i the moth to it's flame. death of tommorows cast visions of a oceans sound. I am but a leaf cast over dark waters never struggle just drift. In history I travle speaking in tones surreal to my ear. if so shall i slip will insanity be but a moment fractured in dream. Screams in a far off space so distant from mine. No pain exists here for im gone in form. A painting in a stars t moon cast scenes erased by light. Where i go none should follow for the price is only for the distant in thought to pay. Emptyness cascades in the past so for now here i yern only to stay. Green in light wormwoods fire sweet in bliss. No path is ever set. Tragedy in play i cast no regrets apon my stage. A ear in respect a razor in hand. I slice into a faint glimmer no pain shall I understand nights cloak the dawn days cast stories unwritten. In genius we find insanitys child. Broken glass cuts clear my moments are chipped as of stone. Time knows me not for i am but speck in a waters fall. Nightmares and my destined fate. Kissed of vemon. She in madness hold's open the path to my visions gate. Between death and dream insanity and a razors gleam. From the darkest space does my page bleed to write. Will you **** my thought only glorify the loss of mind. In the drinks madness my genius I shall never yern to find.
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37
Her tears fade the paper As the ink begins to run She'll find no peace inside her Until her work is done Her emotions hold her captive As she writes with all her might She struggles with her passion Til late into the night She has to tell her story As she brushes away the stains The poet keeps on writing As her teardrops fall like rain A heart that's once been broken Will guide her skillful hand She's writing from her emptyness Hoping all will understand She writes until she's hollow Or her heartache finally relents Her tears become her poetry Each time the poet laments
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Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 11:21 AM UTC
The Poet's Lament
Exhausted The Heavy Bronze Doors Are Loudly Closing Down Fading Away The Darkness Which Was Giving Me Warmth But I Do Not Care Anymore I can Hear The Silence Pounding In My Ears Reminding Me The Fool I Was To Have Ever Trusted But I Do Not Care Anymore I can Feel The Bite Of The Words From The Cold Even Bitter Than The Harshest As Never Appearing But I Do Not Care Anymore I can Fell The Loneliness Echoing From Within Where The Hope Resided Which Left Me Wounded But I Do Not Care Anymore Time Has Finally Reached Tearing Apart The Intemporal Finaly Exorting From Me The Last Tear I Was Cherishing But I Do Not Care Anymore To Much I Have Cared For Emptyness To Many Times I Have Shouted in the Void To Many Times I Dreamed For Despair To Much I Have Loved For Destruction But I Do Not Care Anymore I Am Just Exhausted This Life is Just the One To Much The One Which Will Finally Destroy What Was Created To Ever Last But I Do Not Care Anymore I Just Want To Sleep Silencing The Howls In Me Forget The Ever Suffering Close The Heart To Pain But I Do Not Care Anymore I Just Lay Down Desire Of Peace Begging For Relief Praying For Retribution But I Do Not Care Anymore For I See Her Coming Her Dark Wings Extanded For Me She Is Crying As She Was Not Meant To Kiss Me Death Warlock
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Nov 29, 2009
Nov 29, 2009 at 11:38 AM UTC
Exhausted
[Here lies...] Here lies memory. Kneeling grief, monologue cloaking grave stones loveless hands polished. Self pity in automotion. Solitude. Who will love us now? Retelling stories of  the gone past, biased truth to elude this emptyness.
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
Graveyard
Lost amidst the empty seas. Spanning the far corners of the human mind. The drifting pieces of memories passing by. Drifting to the end while the memories float less frequent. Before being swallowed by the waves of time. The occasion for the embers of passion and pride surround them. Warming the battered beings before time swallows them too. The time that holds them afloat washes them ashore. The emptyness spreads to every corner without an end in sight. They stare into their depths and ask the being in the sky... Is this enough to grant me peace?
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 3:41 PM UTC
Drifting
My One Lost Love *Please know that you're my one lost love That I remember from my past The one who seemed to get away But I wish I could have back The timing wasn't perfect For the love we shared back then Two broken hearts not ready So now we call each other friends Every now and then we speak I hear the story of your life You tell me that you fell in love I feel an emptyness inside I'm happy for you in my heart And I wish for you the best Knowing what you need the most To move forward from the past Our futures took two different paths Then where we thought we'd go I cannot change how you now feel So I let our friendship grow Still no matter what our futures holds Please know these words are true I hope one day you find again My one lost love for you* Carl Joseph Roberts BM
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Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 6:02 AM UTC
My One Lost Love
I had locked away my true thoughts and muzzled my true voice for far to long. Was it a character i desired to be? Were my words to be but a joke to break the awkward silence? When you start to be social only to lock yourself up to exist with your demons your becoming a dangerous person to yourself. My work once flowed now it sits half finished great starts stalled endings. My skills were learned from not the comic arena and i could imagine my journalist friends laughter mocking me even now. He's slipped finally lost in cheap jokes gone from anything that speak's of his true voice. The people didnt thirst to know John. for my well penned alter ego was the one they all knew and so blindly misunderstood. Old friends check in. Messages on my phone i'd sooner erase than respond to. Had I slipped in some form of insanity? Embracing dellusion to mask my failures in life? I was a writer ,A troublemaker and owner of laughs. A good time for many yet emptyness was my reallity. As from the TV screen reflected change and madness. For crazy is a close friend of chaos. I got in the game to make a mark but what was the price? A destroyed marriage a relationship heading into the very same direction. What had I become but some twisted monster and tormented soul. A sad afterthought to a sick joke. Deppresion can make us into something no mirror can truely reflect. The chamber stayed loaded the glass my curse seldom these days full. And what she wanted I could never give like sunsets red cast gold flaked embrace i was a moment. And moment's can't forever last. No child should know a madman's life. And a selfish bastard I knew was my role. Empty streets and smokey old bars were my path and what to anyone could i truley give? Pain was the fuel hours my sea to sail alone. The chamber was full but soon one would be missing. A tale cant be read untill it's finshed. We are but moments. And moments can't last forever.
0
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 10:32 AM UTC
Moments
I had locked away my true thoughts and muzzled my true voice for far to long. Was it a character i desired to be? Were my words to be but a joke to break the awkward silence? When you start to be social only to lock yourself up to exist with your demons your becoming a dangerous person to yourself. My work once flowed now it sits half finished great starts stalled endings. My skills were learned from not the comic arena and i could imagine my journalist friends laughter mocking me even now. He's slipped finally lost in cheap jokes gone from anything that speak's of his true voice. The people didnt thirst to know John. for my well penned alter ego was the one they all knew and so blindly misunderstood. Old friends check in. Messages on my phone i'd sooner erase than respond to. Had I slipped in some form of insanity? Embracing dellusion to mask my failures in life? I was a writer ,A troublemaker and owner of laughs. A good time for many yet emptyness was my reallity. As from the TV screen reflected change and madness. For crazy is a close friend of chaos. I got in the game to make a mark but what was the price? A destroyed marriage a relationship heading into the very same direction. What had I become but some twisted monster and tormented soul. A sad afterthought to a sick joke. Deppresion can make us into something no mirror can truely reflect. The chamber stayed loaded the glass my curse seldom these days full. And what she wanted I could never give like sunsets red cast gold flaked embrace i was a moment. And moment's can't forever last. No child should know a madman's life. And a selfish bastard I knew was my role. Empty streets and smokey old bars were my path and what to anyone could i truley give? Pain was the fuel hours my sea to sail alone. The chamber was full but soon one would be missing. A tale cant be read untill it's finshed. We are but moments. And moments can't last forever.
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Its always in goodbye we taste what is the essense of that scar called love. Pain in nature and no words can capture remorse as well as a milepost in a reaview of thought. It was there we togather once called home now like a tombstone it stands a marker of what was never to be. Fracture of heart and bitterness my seal. Im the leftovers of another we can cleanse this logic or simply say ***** it all and regress. Forever a lie to the young and a curse to the old. Has it burned this earth and killed me to all that dare to know what I could never explain.? A dance of years now a thought no drug has yet to erase. Pills aside your drug was the best poisen ive known even with another I know paradise was a cancer ive long since left behind yet a simple moment can make me slide into a vice that will see me fall for the last time till next. Im the clown that circus left behind. Now a skeleton for home I ask why leaving takes a milestone and emptyness a downpour as my desert has long stayed dry. Read the riddle like a oinion pealed only more layers remain. hell has welcome thought for ive found more toture here. Voices haunt my thoughts as emptyness thrives inmy existance. Its has misreble as when we knew each others love please drown so I can breath life into this wornout frame one last time. Winter's chill reminds me of what we never had yet again. People often question what has no meaning to begin with. As for me I avoid its poisen a scared child hidden in shadow of a lesser man. Nothing stands as a reminder of pages wasted in promise of a day that never came. Sometimes I view that place were we were more than a bad memory and a traggic vice. Sometimes I yern only for end to what has never been allowed to begin. The worst prison of all is the mind.
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:04 PM UTC
The Clown You View Is Never What I See
Its always in goodbye we taste what is the essense of that scar called love. Pain in nature and no words can capture remorse as well as a milepost in a reaview of thought. It was there we togather once called home now like a tombstone it stands a marker of what was never to be. Fracture of heart and bitterness my seal. Im the leftovers of another we can cleanse this logic or simply say ***** it all and regress. Forever a lie to the young and a curse to the old. Has it burned this earth and killed me to all that dare to know what I could never explain.? A dance of years now a thought no drug has yet to erase. Pills aside your drug was the best poisen ive known even with another I know paradise was a cancer ive long since left behind yet a simple moment can make me slide into a vice that will see me fall for the last time till next. Im the clown that circus left behind. Now a skeleton for home I ask why leaving takes a milestone and emptyness a downpour as my desert has long stayed dry. Read the riddle like a oinion pealed only more layers remain. hell has welcome thought for ive found more toture here. Voices haunt my thoughts as emptyness thrives inmy existance. Its has misreble as when we knew each others love please drown so I can breath life into this wornout frame one last time. Winter's chill reminds me of what we never had yet again. People often question what has no meaning to begin with. As for me I avoid its poisen a scared child hidden in shadow of a lesser man. Nothing stands as a reminder of pages wasted in promise of a day that never came. Sometimes I view that place were we were more than a bad memory and a traggic vice. Sometimes I yern only for end to what has never been allowed to begin. The worst prison of all is the mind.
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28
Pour Me One More Round *Each night I go from bar to bar Instead of going home To drink away the pain I have Now living life alone Inside I feel this emptyness Thats deep down within I try to drink away the pain Still knowing it won't end All these bars they look alike And I drink more every day Wanting just to the fill the void Make the memories go away The lights go down and the bars they close So I walk around this town The memory of you fills my heart An empty lonesome sound These drinks I know will never end This pain I feel inside It only helps me to forget But only for the night So please one more Pour me one more round Help me push these memories down Just pour me one more round* Carl Joseph Roberts
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
Pour Me One More Round
Freefall into the core of the night Into the void- filled emptyness Where darkness is beautiful And scissor thoughts are blunted by the light Where silence is our luxury Our symbol of depth Come with us Where wolves howl at a moonless sky Where there is no reflection; only absorption, total takeover of the soul. Where our eyes are flooded with ravens And our tears are the wings that free them. This is where we accept the death that is us.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
Conjure of Night
I often wonder what stars look like during daylight. Understandably, that seems contradictory, seeing as daylight is cast from a star. This isn’t starting out so well.... Just.. Hear me out on this one.... Alright, let’s start again. I often wonder what stars looking like during daylight. Do the spread life-giving rays toward deep space or is that just the ignorant optimist speaking too quickly? I tend to speak first, question later, Standard american wisdom, does anyone else think it’s cool that the hottest stars are actually blue? Blue... Like the eyes of pretty girls on TV, Blue, like the first T-shirt my second love told me I looked good in, for a third time. Blue... Like... Blue’s Clues? So far, not so good. I’ll apologize to the audience right now, It’s been some time since I’ve written, Feeling like a typewriter collecting 50 years of dust, my words are quite antiquated. Now... Where were we? Right! The stars! They scream to me, words, I only wish I could understand. I can hear the right side of the sky when the wind calms, and clouds disappear. “ gaze upon us, let’s fill your emptyness, enjoy the abundance of mysteries sent through your squinted eyes and released from your over-bearing shout. Hey now, I don’t know about you, that sounded pretty good. Definitely going to keep that in here. I think I’m unraveling the mystery, The stars are magicians. A bit of sleight of hand, now you see me... Now, only they see me. I finally understand why the ends of stars are pointed, it’s the edge of their wands. Cascading star dust over what they see fit, I remember being told humans are made of such a thing. If truth is spoken from these lips, Color me blue, I wish to be the hottest thing in the sky. Sadly, I’ll be an infrared Super giant, just wasting up space. Maybe I’m not to know why I can’t see the stars. I’m not meant to know the mysteries, after all, a good magician never reveals his tricks. Tonight I’ll look up towards them, infinity between us, I’ll speak to them; I still can’t see you during daylight. I can’t hear the left side of the sky, it’s whispers clouded by Andromeda. However, this stellar disappearing act has allowed one piece of light to shine through the cloud cover and dust I’ve collected. They’ve helped me finish the poem.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
The Stars Guide Me
I often wonder what stars look like during daylight. Understandably, that seems contradictory, seeing as daylight is cast from a star. This isn’t starting out so well.... Just.. Hear me out on this one.... Alright, let’s start again. I often wonder what stars looking like during daylight. Do the spread life-giving rays toward deep space or is that just the ignorant optimist speaking too quickly? I tend to speak first, question later, Standard american wisdom, does anyone else think it’s cool that the hottest stars are actually blue? Blue... Like the eyes of pretty girls on TV, Blue, like the first T-shirt my second love told me I looked good in, for a third time. Blue... Like... Blue’s Clues? So far, not so good. I’ll apologize to the audience right now, It’s been some time since I’ve written, Feeling like a typewriter collecting 50 years of dust, my words are quite antiquated. Now... Where were we? Right! The stars! They scream to me, words, I only wish I could understand. I can hear the right side of the sky when the wind calms, and clouds disappear. “ gaze upon us, let’s fill your emptyness, enjoy the abundance of mysteries sent through your squinted eyes and released from your over-bearing shout. Hey now, I don’t know about you, that sounded pretty good. Definitely going to keep that in here. I think I’m unraveling the mystery, The stars are magicians. A bit of sleight of hand, now you see me... Now, only they see me. I finally understand why the ends of stars are pointed, it’s the edge of their wands. Cascading star dust over what they see fit, I remember being told humans are made of such a thing. If truth is spoken from these lips, Color me blue, I wish to be the hottest thing in the sky. Sadly, I’ll be an infrared Super giant, just wasting up space. Maybe I’m not to know why I can’t see the stars. I’m not meant to know the mysteries, after all, a good magician never reveals his tricks. Tonight I’ll look up towards them, infinity between us, I’ll speak to them; I still can’t see you during daylight. I can’t hear the left side of the sky, it’s whispers clouded by Andromeda. However, this stellar disappearing act has allowed one piece of light to shine through the cloud cover and dust I’ve collected. They’ve helped me finish the poem.
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2
We live in lies only to mask are truths. Passionet moments cant match hours of endless day's. Drowning in the ***** and pills to maintain that illusion. Ive lost the person and gained only a costume.
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Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 10:53 AM UTC
The Essense Of Emptyness
I cry as i think about the way things used to be… When you were always there for me. When you had my back. when you cared. Now…there's nothing… Just Emptyness. Numb as numb could be. Im alone with this blade. Oh no here we go… you're not here to stop me… You're not here at all. when monday comes…you are going to be the only one staring at my scars. Because you are the only one who knows where they are… For you were the one who was suppose to be here. But you weren't so now these scars are there.
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC
My Scars Are Here
will you pass the shilling test? your life is the slamming of typewriter keys to paint with crafted words the world you would dream the world she would love you in your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating into a future you cannot comprehend into a land as foreign as another world into a mist of unknowns my leather bound case and trench coat bible and cookware a shilling for the ferryman but fret over like the wringing of sweaty hands pacing the hall small bald fat men with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits but fret over like the well greased plans and carefully laid designs of another mans futures past misgivings will you pass the shilling test another day and far away from such musings i find myself at odds with myself over the course i should follow on this days misadventure i have known deep seasons of love and iv known vast feilds of emptyness and fear these days are a mystry to me i cannot see my way
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May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
the ferryman....Schilling test
Begining and end love and death without love there is no death without begining there is no end without all of this there is only existence existence is only emptyness because of this you really don't exist.
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Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 2:55 PM UTC
Existence
The business has closed. Your with out a job. Yep the city is empty. Darkness surrounds the building Like a shadow at five o clock. Yep your empty as well. The end has come Oh why did you have to close? My hometown Reno slowly Turning into emptyness.
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Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 11:36 AM UTC
Emptyness
Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, she's dead. Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over my brother and decided to take another. No one. Knew untill halfway throught the night, in the silance, at the time of change. He stood over her and let a silent tears flow from his eyes. Her pain was gone, her soul resting etirnialy with God. His pain just beginning. His life was reset, everything changeing because she was dead. The comprehension of death is and will remain imposable. It's the second thing that unites humanity. And it's the first thing we come to fear naturaly. It's a fear not learned or over come. Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life. Death had changed him.,had made him take on new struggles had made him some how stronger. Death had taken his skin and made it impenatable, only two things could harm him and he avoided the one with out hesatation. He came to think that with love came more pain and death himself couldn't even bare it . So thus with out love he could live forever and could concur death. Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, he's dead. Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over to my brother. Oh how I wish he could have claimed another. Death has become my friend and my enamy leaveing dispare in his wake but like a snake I can avoid him. For Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life.
0
Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 11:40 AM UTC
Dead
Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, she's dead. Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over my brother and decided to take another. No one. Knew untill halfway throught the night, in the silance, at the time of change. He stood over her and let a silent tears flow from his eyes. Her pain was gone, her soul resting etirnialy with God. His pain just beginning. His life was reset, everything changeing because she was dead. The comprehension of death is and will remain imposable. It's the second thing that unites humanity. And it's the first thing we come to fear naturaly. It's a fear not learned or over come. Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life. Death had changed him.,had made him take on new struggles had made him some how stronger. Death had taken his skin and made it impenatable, only two things could harm him and he avoided the one with out hesatation. He came to think that with love came more pain and death himself couldn't even bare it . So thus with out love he could live forever and could concur death. Darkness, a chill in the air, unexpected sorrow overwelming, he's dead. Hope is gone and left. Emptyness is at the door creeping in like death himself. Death came quckly that night,passing right over to my brother. Oh how I wish he could have claimed another. Death has become my friend and my enamy leaveing dispare in his wake but like a snake I can avoid him. For Death is the crul irony of life bringing relife and stress at the same time. Death is the end to what we are a custom to and a beginning to a new life.
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