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"halucinations" poems
I can't stand this fragile state of mind A blinding vision of how life is supposed to be Seeing nothing but what's between the lines Stuttering twitches from a peripheral fantasy Rising every morning with a new friend to find Death exists in sleep and dwells in lifes' design We're walking in our own shoes with someone elses eyes Mirrors gaze back with a hysterical laugh from reailty A weakening sight that the proud could never realize Or the smirking girls who get off on their honesty We're all hung up on something that helps us play this game An overwhleming emotion that paints our visions frame Tainting the meaning of individuality through a fronted scene Re-shaped compositions built from our iconic halucinations Living behind a hollow imagery with a profound fixation Of a subjective self portrait on an illuminated petistel A last hope for some sort of unconditional comfort refill These words live in place of who I once had been
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
Comfort
Tears can't stop flowing letting my eyes float above reality it's not real but still you're standing there smiling lovely at my missery I can see you ther STANDING YOU'RE THERE. STANDING It's not real.... hehehe... it's not real... "But my dearest darling" it's not real...
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
02:32 AM Halucinations
Close your eyes, my beauty, oh my ***** little demon, my succubus, my muse, me silly reason for, silly being. Feel my heart. It wont stop beating. Faster and faster, slothily increasing, it wants to burst, explode, and I say, let it be so, I feel the blood pour out unevenly, the circulation failing, as I smile greedily, The **** of death coming from deep inside of me, spilling from my intestines and out onto the kitchen ceiling, where I am stuck where my mind breathes, where these halucinations that we call our reality, these lies we tell ourselves, to sleep just a little, bit more comfortably, the hate we have ourselves, of our worldly greed, that we deny and then, **** hungrily, the shame in our hearts, as we think about society, and what they want from us, and how we bow to, artifical ceilings and devices, I look down from above, upside down or in fact, right side up, die my little heart die, burst, burst! Feel the ecstasy and do not reverse, I say to myself, as no one is listening, and why should they? I'm just  a death kid, versing.
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
Just Versing.