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Bogie Apr 2012
Some say that if you are unhappy alone,
Then no person you admire, shall cupid condone.
A pity it is, the legitimacy of this thought,
I live to prove it, and said legitimacy I've fought.
My strategy flawed, my tactics do fail.
The closest I've come has produced a short, sad tale.
Many a heart has been broken, I do share all the fault.
The fight I fight is not a well planned assault.
There have been and will be casualties I'm afraid,
Many a heart, however innocent, on cold ground will lay slayed.
For it is simply impossible, to be happy while living alone.
Perhaps this impass in logic will dissolve once I've grown.
Spike Harper Mar 2016
Wavering.
Seems to be stuck in the sidecar.
With doubt in in back.  
And fear spilling out of every pocket.
Where can anything else fit.
It always seems like the only option is to floor it.
And hope.
The next experience isn't.
A wreckage.
Time seems to slow in this moment.
As if to give you one last replay.
Of what can never change.
Tumbling end.
Over beginning.
Through logic.
And past the last chance.
Lementing choices and decisions.
Hate flowing through burning veins.
Igniting the very air.
Causing a caustic reaction that seems to backdraft the entirety of it all.
Leaving only the ash to tell the tale.
And then there are those who see this very disturbance.
And find something within themselves never before used.
Touched.
Or seen.
And alter the very fabric of repetition.
With nothing more than a smile and.
Willingness.
Fear knot the emotions that entangle others.
For it only takes one to wade through the murky echoes of the past.
To ensure.
That The insanity will recede.
There are no shackles.
Only encumbering thoughts.
The only impass.
Is the very reflection staring back.
There is always a limit to just how many times one can get back up and brush off the past. It's up to us to decide what that number is.
Aaron Macario Aug 2016
Would you truly understand me if I actually spoke to you?
Would you turn a blind eye if my thoughts were see through?
If I open my mind to you what would you really do?
In a world of strangers could you truly know me?
If the heart is a map to the soul would you care to show me?
What would it take to grow old and ask that you hold me?
In many ways we're frozen in place with time that's in motion.
Innocence is not lost, its corrupted and held out in the open.
To know what it means you must've seen what it takes to be broken.
Each impass is simply a choice that we must make.
Every obstical is merely a divide between past and fake.
If I let you inside would you hide if only for your sake?
I am a master mason for the walls that I have built.
I am a guest of Satan for the hate that I have felt.
I am the hand of God for the shame that I have dealt.
I rest on neither side, an unstable center am I.
Blessed is he who finds a sence of meaning in life.
I thought that yould try so I've ventured back into my.
One day you'll see what it means to be me,
On that day you'll find what it means to be you,
Somehow I shall show what it is to be free,
I know what you see, it lacks the color of true,
Lost in the grey a tale of light you can't believe,
There is a way out obscured by clouds is the blue.
In shackles we live meant to die in the ground.
If the chains were broken would you fly to the sound?
Would you sit there and weep for what you could have known?
Or would you lie there and sleep a lost soul to its own?
Bryant Aug 2018
You are a crowded intersection
Ebullient bloating, churn
Bustling with acquaintances

They know your name
Know your way, but see you mearly as an impass
Navigated with neither choice nor decision
Route without resistance
Path of least conviction
A jumping of point
Endeavors formulated; yet your corridors are never considered

No exceptional exemptions
Chimerical observers,  are shuffled and thumb  Fulminant prostration; muddling insertion
Maudlin automaton corral

An adverse opposition, preferring to evaluate you at night
Your gaslit candescence reaches in all directions
Ebbing lambency traversing space
Conveyance of curious possibility

Enveloped in your vacancy
Swaddling spances; rampart wrapping
Quarantined and completely mine

Somber meditation tranquility
All of my substance settling to a manhole center
Shedding all my persistent memories
Unencumbered relife; unfettered elation
Ravishing beatitude exaltation
Distracting detraction
Time abstractedly trickling away

Disecting rays of light clutching the arc of the Plutonian horizon
Stampeding hordes in infinite single file lines
Sieging you from every direction
Like a colony of ants disintegrating a discarded carcass
You are gone

— The End —