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"hermetically" poems
Mangled skirmish, of bespeckled olive-green serpents. Their sinuous anarchy runs cold upon her skull. Caravaggio, you immortalized the ***** immured her, hermetically sealed her within that shield. Her reflection was at once the face she never saw...stoned, she...then beheaded. I notice you've even painted the shield the color of her serpentine locks. Serpents registering her ontological shock-- retentive, entwining, dangling in an odd curl here and there. Blood spurting from her almost indiscernible neck, as if to draw a passable neck of blood, almost like rays of blood, Christ's pierced side. Her eyes seem so determined to chisel their way out of stone, reconnect her head to her body. Her face is stunning, an excruciating ferocity bulking stiff, slightly opened mouth about to... explode out of her eyes. Eyes hissing downward, sideways--there in the pitch black glint of them...a primordial drama to be continued.
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
Medusa, Caravaggio
The oxygen that we breathe in and out every minute of every day is not lost but shared re-used recycled recirculated. If we are in the same room – or sealed hermetically for hours in the cabin of a plane – we breathe continuously the same air, the oxygen goes from me to you and back again. But air currents, prevailing winds, the jet stream, cyclones and anti-cyclones, all move the atmosphere further and further still, so that even if we are on opposite sides of the globe, separated by oceans, it is a statistical certainty that I still breathe in atoms of oxygen that were once inside you. Do they carry your thoughts, your feelings, your poetry to me, or mine to you? Who can say? I can but hope it, as I thank you for keeping me alive.
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Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
Oxygen *
scavenger bride, she counted periods before the children came along, but never suspected eyes like bottles beginning to blue, a tangle of scars hermetically sealed, the new order of a broken romance, dead love cassettes in the glove compartment, her cold and empty constellations, like cold breath passing through a beam of sunlight, grid of points, pendulums, the ratio of freckles to stars, no subtle countenance, martinis and bikinis, soft ******* and ice cream, slight, elusive things, on a beach with no more meaning, the repeating pattern of her mistakes and reliefs, a preservation of decay, sustained by the tiny human fault line in that oneiric hinterland, between dreaming and waking, she draws around the noise and the clearings, she creates within that sightline the way her sadness can feel comfortable, an extension of loss that turns her ruins into a home.
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Aug 1, 2022
Aug 1, 2022 at 2:48 PM UTC
Living in the Remains of Love
holy worlds of culture lie undead, divided, cocooned, near and dear in pristine hermetically sealed jars. profoundly deceased artists greater generations cryogenically frozen; wait for disease no more, erased and forgotten by history. Make room for new records, consciousness too streaming through your tube, my tube, our tube. Cut and paste: Save the **** save the pop-ups, save the ads, save the text, save the papers, save the bits, save the bytes, save the one, save the zero, save the site, save the facts, save the mirrors, save the mother, and the father, save the dots, save the photos, save the mood, save your game, save your thoughts, save the time, save the plot, save this show, save the world, save the breeze, save the key, save the music, save this song, safe advice, save the space, save this spot, save the ages, save the screen, save your pride, save indulgence, save your dream.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
safe
you of pharmaceutical lens, Concrete handed sharp edges rounded, colours slandered, you womb-safe, blanketed, bleeting sounds non-threatening, Shadow individual Deodorant mojo, the man-made park, well governed hair lips are moist and plumped up, a conveyor belt human, bowel movements and idle chatter are corporate losses, Neglect that which is outside this Kingdom, the office must remain hermetically sealed to ensure maximum shareholder profits breathing in sand and time, this here void of monotony, numbly dispirited poor food and no discipline (that's you), face is sallow sagging, you are nothing, not really, your bonus will be paid at the end of this month.
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Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Anxious worker 5
I’m psychosexual But somehow A hyper-intellectual It’s like a festival All up in my mind Fueled by love, lust, rage, maybe hate Lysergic acid Diethylamide Hopeless dreams and psilocybe I would entice you To look inside But I’d fear for your sanity It’s no place for the blind I once thought of ending it Closing the blinds On a cold winters eve In the dead of night The bottle in my hand I broke the glass No liquid came out I was drunk off my *** This was how I was Or perhaps how I am I question everyday If this was part of the plan Cuts all up my arm I’ve always said self-harm Was for the weak and twisted With their minds tangled like yarn But now I see truth I’m an agnostic All I need was proof I’m a concrete home with no roof I’m a writer, a brother A musician and a lover I’m a man and a boy An old soul that never knew joy She was momma’s little angel Starry eyed with her dreams Turned ********** ******* randoms for the fiend A hopeless romantic His heart sealed up hermetically He strung himself up when she spat out “You’re pathetic”, apathetically What a broken society It’s the norm to suffer It’s a personality flaw To give a **** about another This is why I’m insane You see why I’m a ******* ****** Always getting caught up screaming “I’m just trying to do the right thing, you know?” A semi-schizo voice I’m perpetually trying to shut up Showing compassion for others Only made me an altruistic ****** So now you see What happens when you read in-between These are my minds insides I hope they made you scream But I only brought you to the doorstep Would you dare to step in? All I can tell you is I never made it out There are true monsters within
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May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
What Lies Within
I’m psychosexual But somehow A hyper-intellectual It’s like a festival All up in my mind Fueled by love, lust, rage, maybe hate Lysergic acid Diethylamide Hopeless dreams and psilocybe I would entice you To look inside But I’d fear for your sanity It’s no place for the blind I once thought of ending it Closing the blinds On a cold winters eve In the dead of night The bottle in my hand I broke the glass No liquid came out I was drunk off my *** This was how I was Or perhaps how I am I question everyday If this was part of the plan Cuts all up my arm I’ve always said self-harm Was for the weak and twisted With their minds tangled like yarn But now I see truth I’m an agnostic All I need was proof I’m a concrete home with no roof I’m a writer, a brother A musician and a lover I’m a man and a boy An old soul that never knew joy She was momma’s little angel Starry eyed with her dreams Turned ********** ******* randoms for the fiend A hopeless romantic His heart sealed up hermetically He strung himself up when she spat out “You’re pathetic”, apathetically What a broken society It’s the norm to suffer It’s a personality flaw To give a **** about another This is why I’m insane You see why I’m a ******* ****** Always getting caught up screaming “I’m just trying to do the right thing, you know?” A semi-schizo voice I’m perpetually trying to shut up Showing compassion for others Only made me an altruistic ****** So now you see What happens when you read in-between These are my minds insides I hope they made you scream But I only brought you to the doorstep Would you dare to step in? All I can tell you is I never made it out There are true monsters within
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Homegrown but hermetically sealed from people, places, ways to feel. Dropping a tablet on a tongue, Korbel divides around pink sponge; swallowing four or five, to avoid feeling alive. There are cars leaving trails of thoughts. Dare them to drive, drunk on moments, stuck on other people-- her freckles could fall to the floor and turn the tiles into an oceanic remembrance. - We are lost trees, reaching out but stuck where we say we'll soon leave: rooted even after death, relying on escape so much that hope becomes our prison.
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Lost Trees
The view from my window is static as stone. Four high rises mechanically probe the grey skyline, their scale-like, cemented   girth obscuring the world within eyeshot. Sickly city trees weep and mourn, but cannot be heard through double paned glass and eggshell white prison walls, which house by solitary confinement. Lives are lived hermetically sealed. Humans reside in spaces better suited for use as fishbowls.                                                                                    Who longs for the ocean? We hide away, smothering our vibrant-hued colors we once let each other see.                                                                                     Go and make rainbows, please.
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Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
City Skyline
Torn in two, stripped to the bone, head's rewired, thoughts removed. Your flex in a reflex, reactions to action, she preached in the precinct whilst craving creation. A submariner survives in daytight compartments, his thoughts become deeper, she prays for his relief. Hermetically altered the gold-dust is spinkled, as the fish keep on swimming blue in the reef. Broken down, and beaten... this egg's cracked in two.  Reborn in an instant, cappuccino's still new.
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
Beaten down
My shelf holds worlds; bending under multi-colored, peeling teeth; paper raked by pupils. Cream clenches then spreads, like a jogger's lung, and I say, This is why I normally take it black. Something Steven Spielberg presented is strapped to my wall, reminding me of my childhood that has left my memory faster than I hoped it would. There's a decaf tin holding mini-presidential tombstones. I keep a picture of a woman I don't even know because she looks happy and I envy that. This room is hermetically sealing 3 AM insomnia and daydreams.
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
Room Doves
Love: to be said but unspoken A deep guttural influence over your mind’s endless power A gift to be hermetically sealed, yet leaking lust whenever possible A moment where fusion of energy is felt in broad daylight with no scientific explanation A muddy sense of belonging and purpose that undulates entirely Go on, give in. It’s the call to the question that is answered with “this is why you’re made” Your smile creates a double with lips and lids, light and laughter Can I ask you how this encompasses atheism? You’re gorgeous and talented and our opposite beings just want the one thing that’s unexplainable . . . Once again, how doest that coincide with atheism? Question that. But really, I can feel your truth and complete love I just worry because you need to love yourself and believe You can’t give it all to me.
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May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
Unspoken
sam i yam not, nor will this 'lo bot go away cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows, enables and provides an opportunity to bray, and thence get access to each excel lent power full point one among the beguiling bajillion, thus this ming boggling concept proffers (even the generic mom and pop hacker tubby in her/his element field gloating as if they won the Irish Sweepstakes that day despite neither could claim direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire analogous to Celtic temptress, whose grand geography beckons toward entranceway, where sensory, levity, and ecstasy punctuate foray boot that diverges one hundred and eighty degrees asper gateway onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway spilling forth like offal horrific bilge interlay sloshing violently, revoltingly, and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay bird donning mask (yule hating) beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway. force full brainstorm to firewall to place on indefinite layaway inundation of spam midway between now and eternity, essentially noway no more, and if necessary hermetically seal myself stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
where in tarnation doth spam arise?
Dust returns carried by the wind and rough footsteps of thin heels kilometers across Deposits on the glasses and big screens in gossamer layers Dust disappears under rainy tears of funny clouds Passes through the fingers, elusive, even if we hermetically seal ourselves dust always finds a way Love, dreams, memories ... in a moment they become dust
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Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 3:58 AM UTC
Dust
more often than not, a knightly surge combs a pawn me, especially after the stroke of midnight, when hermetically sealed in my rookery, where bats in the belfry flap their wings at the speed of sound times ten thence, this king heads to his counting house (which doubles asthma Perkiomen Valley bishopric) to economize on space, especially during tax time (as April fifteenth slowly approaches, me heartbeat doth) quicken though becalmed, when imbibing idyllic, fantastic, and bucolic kingdom Americana paintings courtesy, sans nomen Percevel Rockwell, thus jitteriness pacified, particularly speaking on the telly phone with Ken Burns, whose trademark documentaries, particularly War between the States, where even roosting hen got into the frayed scrimmage vis a vis, even chilly being egged on to surrender as Ben a fit to this American Civil War Yankee incarnate, whose doodling word ya probably don't give a hoot -Amen!
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 2:21 AM UTC
the hum mew zing of a night owl
merciless genocide slaughter of native peoples wrought with (super) wanton zeal feeble ability to thwart "discoverers" rapine wicked onslaught merely ratcheted wrecked webbing wrenched tribal unity, violently rent asunder vibrant indigenous linkedin weave rendered sacred weltanschauung decimated "noble savage" woke wretched nightmare, sans pock marked worsted weal the Native American holocaust shrouded in whitewashed veil tragedy trampled truces triggering tearful trail scoped scattered remnant snuffed out via surveil futile sympathetic remonstrances, viz rant and rail hermetically sealed ***** deeds done dirt blunted, cheapened, and deadened lance armstrong to quail most definitely coloring faces of captive American Indians deathly pale into figurative coffin got hammered rusty nine inch nail subpar critical population mass for survival, plus storied "red man" bereft of ample potent male off limits to original proprietors forced to hightail happy hunting grounds o'er hill and dale becoming desiccated bleached bones devoid of awful, pitiful, and sorrowful fait accompli and roaming spirits like banshees bewail grievous shadow a blot doth cause me to ail!
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
primal beat
Deep within the bowels of the Earth immensely distant from the sheltering sky amidst a thick fog enveloped landscape with here and there a projected craggy, derelict chasm precipitously crooked pointing toward an infinitely wide yawning abyss dwelt kindred spirits comprising a soul asylum where grateful dead (albeit marked via weathered tomb stones) hermetically sealed once vibrant corporeal mortals betook their eternal slumber One among their number included a misanthrope who sported long straggly hair bushy eyebrows shielding cold eyes of steel straggly bearded clammy chin in tandem with a hairy body which when alive (long time ago) upheld upon unshod feet a severely hunchbacked ****** Within dense pitch-black terrain (Mother Nature enlisting a menagerie of life forms accustomed to hellish environment) awash with unrecognizable alien sights and sounds mollycoddling bewitching warlocks, mailer daemons, imps of the pervert chieftains, fiery long and fostered Golems who called underworld their private demesne also alluded to Marcy's playground holding hostage Alice in Chains Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Beastie Boys, The Human League, and Village People a Crowded House Emitting wisps of ethereal matter appearing a small medium at large chat snap ping, flickr ring indeed joyus minions exalting piety a plenti Prone ounce sing proud purgatory promoting protean phantasmagoria hideous hulu hoop dancing holograms highly distorted grotesque silent screaming sinister banshees slithering across escarpment.
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Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
An Image Of The Netherworld Envisioned By A Misanthrope
Deep within the bowels of the Earth immensely distant from the sheltering sky amidst a thick fog enveloped landscape with here and there a projected craggy, derelict chasm precipitously crooked pointing toward an infinitely wide yawning abyss dwelt kindred spirits comprising a soul asylum where grateful dead (albeit marked via weathered tomb stones) hermetically sealed once vibrant corporeal mortals betook their eternal slumber One among their number included a misanthrope who sported long straggly hair bushy eyebrows shielding cold eyes of steel straggly bearded clammy chin in tandem with a hairy body which when alive (long time ago) upheld upon unshod feet a severely hunchbacked ****** Within dense pitch-black terrain (Mother Nature enlisting a menagerie of life forms accustomed to hellish environment) awash with unrecognizable alien sights and sounds mollycoddling bewitching warlocks, mailer daemons, imps of the pervert chieftains, fiery long and fostered Golems who called underworld their private demesne also alluded to Marcy's playground holding hostage Alice in Chains Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Beastie Boys, The Human League, and Village People a Crowded House Emitting wisps of ethereal matter appearing a small medium at large chat snap ping, flickr ring indeed joyus minions exalting piety a plenti Prone ounce sing proud purgatory promoting protean phantasmagoria hideous hulu hoop dancing holograms highly distorted grotesque silent screaming sinister banshees slithering across escarpment.
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closing claws ripping off the flesh of a shadow saved in a corner of a single soul. no room for an S.O.S. in this glass jar filled with despair in hermetically closed words. closed, closure, close, such hilarious list of words suitable for both love and hate. no reason available in words or gestures or thoughts or mimics, but a single feeling, a painful thirst of freedom, but this closing fog stealing every breath is closing every exit, like alcohol vapours surrounded by flames, imploding violently into oblivion. scared, alone, trapped, wrapped in a single point.
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
captive
Where is it, The magic button? You text me, I get a fix You call me, I get a fix If you smiled from within an Hermetically sealed room, I'd get a fix This high doesn't come from you, This high isn't yours to give, It's mine A chemical reward from Some prehistoric pathways, Deciding you were the one If I can find the magic button, I can fix myself Because you left me, You left me broken.
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
That Magic Feeling
no shortage of familiar metier real (material) aye attest welling up within thy breast merely a predicament how to winnow junk bonded barnacled accretion encrusted amidst gems buried within treasure chest, yet vigilant to sift, viz figurative fine tooth comb uprooting excrescence laired plethora incognito, sans faux couture doggerel habiliment dressed necessitating painstaking poetic rock climbing ala scaling Mount Everest imbedding, hooking, grappling fingered duple crampons aye con fessed to myself, the futility to wrest Shakespearean nuggets, which analogy hyperbole you guessed nor does modesty allow me feeble effort (trite) on par with August bard, who would rank him, the highest allotted value upon assigned (absolute) value of playing card, hence tis the gold standard thee verse a tile scribe based at Stratford on Avon this here wordsmith wields his own literary might always on guard to stave reprehensible tar tarred plaque like encrustation glued hard akin to a geode methodical mother lode extraction jarred by the slightest distraction, thus with bold ness sigh hermetically seal off every cerebral fold vectors against superfluous mind chatter can upend fragile tenuous hold when merest wisp of nearly elusive mental thread escapes, i feign scold ding this paperback bestseller wannabe with told cha so Harris, thus keep dreaming envisioning an green acred Edenic demesne sprawling across wide webbed wold.
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May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
Wracked With Ratiocination When Writing
In statistics A population Is a set of similar events Which pertain To a question Life is not so random The question is often when (?) Once the box is open Stem-and-leaf scatter Snowflakes Assume symmetry Burn eyes, connections Melt skin, memory Pollution distribution The outlier Survives but one day more The median is simply Outnumbered Variance is valueless Unbecoming To a populace Up in smoke Count your blessings Night comes quickly Hard rain Kills softly Supplicate heaven The top of the box Stays hermetically Sealed Forever (And a day)
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Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:32 PM UTC
Toxic Box
This atheistic, intelligent, liberal minded nonestablishmentarian christened Matthew Scott Harris, haint gotta clue, how bias, discrimination, prejudice didst brew within me noggin admitting to myself, (that though tolerant towards most other people) amidst variegated hue mankind cutting crew, I can not wholeheartedly dislodge un argue ably the stubborn presence of disagreeably unwanted notions, an effort quite few till to expunge, though not clearly delineated against gentile nor Jew the latter encompassing my genealogical lineage (as ye probably knew) though acute awareness exists that objectionable thoughts towards others coalesced and grew, sans initial aural, sensational, and visual perceptions did ensue from nearly imperceptible germinal, ephemeral, and casual brief interactions, thy amygdala and, posterior cingulate cortex (PCC) instantaneously drew nearly nsync with a single blink of thine myopic left or right human eye (which average duration 0.1 to 0.4 seconds, or 100 to 400 milliseconds) forged an unconscious initial mount'n view clocked in at 100 milliseconds or 328.0839895013123 feet per second pointing asper an expert mason hermetically sealing a psychic impression ala mortise and tenon amalgamated conglomerate enterprise glommed zoo wool logical imprimatur difficult, but not impossible loo sin and/or completely dislodge neurological hullabaloo.
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
First Impressions
In his breathy love's eyes The winds are wandering, Their legs have sauntered In a loose fit journey away From the warmth of arms' Embrace, under the stars, A heart of days splendour, Has waned into a wincing Chain, propped and long, Where even the dark sees, They sooth incandescently Blind.  How can love grow In a vow hermetically cold When all outsides' beams Are breaking like the sun?
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Windlass Love
In his windy love's eyes The winds are wandering, Their legs have sauntered In a loose fit journey away From the warmth of arms' Embrace, under the stars, A heart of days splendour, Has waned into a wincing Chain, propped and long, Where even the dark sees, They sooth incandescently Blind. How can love grow In a vow hermetically cold When all outsides' beams Are breaking like the sun?
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Windlass Love
. In his breathy love's eyes The winds are wandering, Their legs have sauntered In a loose fit journey away From the warmth of arms' Embrace, under the stars, A heart of days splendour, Has waned into a wincing Chain, propped and long, Where even the dark sees, They sooth incandescently Blind.  How can love grow In a vow hermetically cold When all outsides' beams Are breaking like the sun?
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Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
Windlass Love
Emotional sequestration perseverates across thine time warped weft wise wold, sans interpersonal stagnation flourishes as oft twice told tale amidst derelict hollowed moldering sacrificed stranglehold did potential..., now bankrupt acquaintanceships/ friendships get out sold agonizingly excruciatingly jujitsu physically writhing front row seat occupied - whereat direct view of scaffold penurious adolescent Anorexia Nervosa plagued decades prior fraught psychological, neurological and illogical repercussions steam rolled natural heterosexual propensity stifling, stinting, and stymying this old morosely jinxed kerfuffle inciting, hermetically heat sealed, tightly bound stinging straitened yellow jacketed bee devilish mold hogtied hold, pig in the poke, xenophobic-ally fastened, galvanic hold wrenching vice grippe fiercely extolled sterile lackluster human existence devoid cold hence, imperative ambition to act forthright and bold before advanced age finds this wordsmith additionally auld. This solitary reader quests doth newt plead per outreach need without supplicating, lionizing, boot mead dee eight ting, enticing Nietzscheism lead me by thine pug nose, nor doth this passive heretic - heed ding perseverance without selfishness nor greed aye only seek to be freed, where ambivalence to enjoy life exceed sharing soulful travails yes in deed foster repartee with persons no matter creed faith, intelligence, nationality breed united by state worthy charisma agreed?
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Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
Pitched Upon Threshold Of Prepubescent Suicide
Emotional sequestration perseverates across thine time warped weft wise wold, sans interpersonal stagnation flourishes as oft twice told tale amidst derelict hollowed moldering sacrificed stranglehold did potential..., now bankrupt acquaintanceships/ friendships get out sold agonizingly excruciatingly jujitsu physically writhing front row seat occupied - whereat direct view of scaffold penurious adolescent Anorexia Nervosa plagued decades prior fraught psychological, neurological and illogical repercussions steam rolled natural heterosexual propensity stifling, stinting, and stymying this old morosely jinxed kerfuffle inciting, hermetically heat sealed, tightly bound stinging straitened yellow jacketed bee devilish mold hogtied hold, pig in the poke, xenophobic-ally fastened, galvanic hold wrenching vice grippe fiercely extolled sterile lackluster human existence devoid cold hence, imperative ambition to act forthright and bold before advanced age finds this wordsmith additionally auld. This solitary reader quests doth newt plead per outreach need without supplicating, lionizing, boot mead dee eight ting, enticing Nietzscheism lead me by thine pug nose, nor doth this passive heretic - heed ding perseverance without selfishness nor greed aye only seek to be freed, where ambivalence to enjoy life exceed sharing soulful travails yes in deed foster repartee with persons no matter creed faith, intelligence, nationality breed united by state worthy charisma agreed?
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