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"incompletion" poems
The distant park Was a graveyard of dead stars. Each streetlight a system of worlds, So many lives between each mote of light, Indistinguishable in their unique love, Bespoke hate, and the drama of the modern age. Drunk laughter behind transparent Double doors. Another hotel balcony, Another cloud behind the canopy Of marijuana eyes To unsettle me from the crowd. She points out, when you look closely You can see the disorder Amongst all constellations Of life and love and litter; Of discarded Coke cans And temporary highs. She says this is not a scene To imbue the ****** of a present mind, More to baulk at the incompletion Of one thousand to-do lists; A million reasons why You should just stay inside. She says you can see the human swell Of ignorance, our city lights Blotting out the stars In a black ocean of broken politic And irretrievable fault lines- Divisions between us all. Lives twisted with professional smiles And eyes lit with stunning indifference. Still, I have felt charity and warmth On the doorstep of lunatics and fascists. I have read the love of life In faces of those who gave up. I have recounted countless artists Who saw beauty In moments that precisely lacked it. I have spent too many nights In anaesthesia, Fleeing each instance of feeling And terror; all the tremors That tell me I am still alive. Continued to stare at the lights Long after her voice And the laughter inside had gone. Heard waves in the traffic. A world so large, so expansive, It can never truly sleep. Every broken heart, Every war-torn land, Every promotion, Every one-night stand. I wonder what would happen If we all stood still. If we all took one moment To observe the motion That unfolds beneath Our static windowsill. If we all took one moment To recover our loss. The wars that we won, The feelings, forgot. The hell we retain; Our paradise, lost.
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
Windowsill
The distant park Was a graveyard of dead stars. Each streetlight a system of worlds, So many lives between each mote of light, Indistinguishable in their unique love, Bespoke hate, and the drama of the modern age. Drunk laughter behind transparent Double doors. Another hotel balcony, Another cloud behind the canopy Of marijuana eyes To unsettle me from the crowd. She points out, when you look closely You can see the disorder Amongst all constellations Of life and love and litter; Of discarded Coke cans And temporary highs. She says this is not a scene To imbue the ****** of a present mind, More to baulk at the incompletion Of one thousand to-do lists; A million reasons why You should just stay inside. She says you can see the human swell Of ignorance, our city lights Blotting out the stars In a black ocean of broken politic And irretrievable fault lines- Divisions between us all. Lives twisted with professional smiles And eyes lit with stunning indifference. Still, I have felt charity and warmth On the doorstep of lunatics and fascists. I have read the love of life In faces of those who gave up. I have recounted countless artists Who saw beauty In moments that precisely lacked it. I have spent too many nights In anaesthesia, Fleeing each instance of feeling And terror; all the tremors That tell me I am still alive. Continued to stare at the lights Long after her voice And the laughter inside had gone. Heard waves in the traffic. A world so large, so expansive, It can never truly sleep. Every broken heart, Every war-torn land, Every promotion, Every one-night stand. I wonder what would happen If we all stood still. If we all took one moment To observe the motion That unfolds beneath Our static windowsill. If we all took one moment To recover our loss. The wars that we won, The feelings, forgot. The hell we retain; Our paradise, lost.
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65
I L U like my ***** clothes Love being forgotten On my bedroom floor I L U like chores love the music that helps them forget they're chores I L U like ***** dishes Love hot showers and the other side of the sink I L U like I love spilling Salt, and warding off the evil, By tossing some behind my back I L U like I love Breaking rules about my own supposed non-Superstition I L U like black cats love Bad luck, cause to them, It's just Friday, you know? I L U like the hot dog bun Loves staring at the beef patty, Wishing "if only, if only" I L U like bread loves Being forgotten till we're really hungry And then we're all ungrateful, like "Hey bread, you remember us?" And bread is high above us, like "Always." Not even a hint of scorn I L U like the first time I saw Jurassic Park, The dinosaurs Were real enough sans chicken feathers, and Who needs modern science anyways when love has no fossil records? I L U like the weather loves Surprise parties. I L U like painful surprise party memories love being forgotten on my bedroom floor I love you like Mayflies love living, oh so briefly, once a day, every single day, Chapter one to chapter none I love you like mayflies love themselves, brevity and all, stirred by nothing but the glow of Dawn's light, Dead by dusk, the Mayfly never knows its final form. It dies in complete incompletion, but that's okay. It drank the salt ocean, it breathed the living air, And that's how I want to L U
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
I.L.U (Consider the Mayfly)
for AR and Maria, oh heck, for The Crew **A dog ear is a phrase that refers to the folded down corner of a book page, a dog ear can serve as a bookmark. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_ears** ~~~~~~ we fold a page corner down, here we pause in this poetry book, for now, a marker of incompletion, or not a passage, a phrase, whole stands on its own, but today crew, slated for an exit, a return-to-someday, but aside, aside, discarded till... *all on that day run to the mountain, the mountain wont hide you run to the sea, the sea will not have you and run to your grave, your grave will not hold you all on that day* so I, sinnerman, injured my book, I hurt that page disgraced, act of disgraceful, but I am injured and don't have no cares but come the day of return the day I hope to must to believe in, twice as much, all on that day, when the sea, the mountains, and the risen dead, have me back, to my proper place even though will be dog tired, to that dog-eared page, in that worn old notebook return, pick up my sticks, my pens, that have no erasers, start again just where I know, just when I don't, but this why I know, but to that dog-eared return, the page where I died, I shall return, all on that day ~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the moon, "Moon, won't you hide me?" Run to the sea, "Sea, won't you hide me?" Run to the sun, "Sun, won't you hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, moon'll be a bleeding" Lord said, "Sinner man, sea'll be a sinking" Lord said, "Sinner man, sun'll be a freezing all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run, run, "Lord, won't You hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, you should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4h55nVbt4c
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
One more for the road... all on that day, dog ear'd
for AR and Maria, oh heck, for The Crew **A dog ear is a phrase that refers to the folded down corner of a book page, a dog ear can serve as a bookmark. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_ears** ~~~~~~ we fold a page corner down, here we pause in this poetry book, for now, a marker of incompletion, or not a passage, a phrase, whole stands on its own, but today crew, slated for an exit, a return-to-someday, but aside, aside, discarded till... *all on that day run to the mountain, the mountain wont hide you run to the sea, the sea will not have you and run to your grave, your grave will not hold you all on that day* so I, sinnerman, injured my book, I hurt that page disgraced, act of disgraceful, but I am injured and don't have no cares but come the day of return the day I hope to must to believe in, twice as much, all on that day, when the sea, the mountains, and the risen dead, have me back, to my proper place even though will be dog tired, to that dog-eared page, in that worn old notebook return, pick up my sticks, my pens, that have no erasers, start again just where I know, just when I don't, but this why I know, but to that dog-eared return, the page where I died, I shall return, all on that day ~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the moon, "Moon, won't you hide me?" Run to the sea, "Sea, won't you hide me?" Run to the sun, "Sun, won't you hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, moon'll be a bleeding" Lord said, "Sinner man, sea'll be a sinking" Lord said, "Sinner man, sun'll be a freezing all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run, run, "Lord, won't You hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, you should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4h55nVbt4c
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85
This is: Life as we know it. A series of Mondays and Tuesdays sewn together on cheap embroidery floss. This is: Incompletion Longing Treading in deep waters, Walking down the broken road, A fear of sleeping because of haunted dreams, haunted blankets, haunted tears. Heart and mind on auto pilot. Emptiness.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Broken Monologue
i don't know if its love or lust (maybe a combination of the two) but both halves of me finally agree that they would be terribly and perpetually incomplete if our eyes fail to lock if our fingers do not intertwine if I do not follow the road from your collarbone up to brush the stray lock off the side of your face then end up comfortably at the small of your neck it'd be a tragedy of shakespearean proportions for our lips to not have the pleasure of getting acquainted how stale the air is when we do not share the same breath it's a sickening thought that the curve of your back and my calloused hands simultaneously exist in this point in time but may never piece together like a jigsaw puzzle ****** to incompletion that the amber of your eyes and the mahogany of mine may never find their way to each other i'd rather not have lived at all
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Love or Lust
I woke up, and my ears were ringing like the Tell-Tale heart. Ring, ring, ringing like microphone headphones, the screeching dog whistle in a bitch's bad dreams. My scream-teen dreams of Slime Time Lives gone by drive-bys gettin' high, drank all the way to drunk and stayed up, still alive. A hangover hunger, eat that screaming meat till my warm puffy eyes well up with sleep, wait to wake up and repeat. Though I breathe easy I need pleasing, a fortune in fulfillment and still aches of incompletion. Mi hermano dice siempre, The poor search for food, the rich search for an appetite.
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
The American Hangover
it's the car crash that nobody was around to see, nobody to call for help it's the drop from the precipice that never ended that sensation in your gut of sickening weightlessness forever in perpetuity it's this daily unanswered call an echo unreturned it's this constant hesitation this wavering sensation of incompletion a melody with no conclusion, unresolv-
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Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 1:55 PM UTC
Unresolved
Foreign doll A wonderwall Writes poetry on receipts Where coffee stains Are soak brown blobs, Her words are sweetened As candy cane dialect to god I wait for her many hours in incompletion For her mine heart throbs!!!
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
Wonderwall dialect
Today Pain shall write for me As these feelings are just so hard to see By my heart’s eyes that look only at white But never at its own dreary plight Of the pain that is inflicted By my dreams, now convicted Of the crime of incompletion And sentenced to perdition I craved for glory and fortune and fame The eternal happiness to be remembered by name I created the visions of peace and life And I as the sole destroyer of strife Time blows away like smoke from a fire Only to be seen near the flames, never higher My flames are weak, ******* me dry Bringing me close to the day when I shall cry Is my reality too unreal to be real Or am I just incapable to feel… That dreams are never meant to come true.
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Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 7:48 AM UTC
The Agony of Incomplete Dreams
Connection comforts us with a warm sense of familiarity, a piece of home we look to find and know, in all of these reflective eyes that stand before us. Some have searched their entire lives, as though a sea of people have moved through them because this constant searching for completion in another is a set up for heartbreak if we can never truly dwell within our own flow. If we believe another is all we need to make us feel we will always be looking with eyes that forget how to close. This love shall be false nullified by our own lack of wholeness. I´ve felt angry, betrayed and hurt within the seas of such love. All this unnecessary aching due to my own foolishness, We are the only ones who make ourselves suffer. We betray ourselves through a lack of self love, through our own sense of incompletion. Because I no longer know the meaning of lonely. Just uncontained with all the love inside of me unfulfilled by the door un-opened from within. It´s our choice we decide to not feel. Many times I was foolish, believing love had given me up, resigned and blew away just like the echo that journeys when the wind moves in the trees. Those winds carried many of my ideals and I was just yet to open to this unlimited supply not matter what or who goes by... I hadn´t noticed until I closed my eyes that Love stood unwavered just waiting for me to re-open to myself. The branches may´ve altered leaves certainly died, re-gathered re-grew but my trunk always my core. As Love is a door that´s opened from within and then lends it´s opening to be explored to be entered with you.
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Lover within
Connection comforts us with a warm sense of familiarity, a piece of home we look to find and know, in all of these reflective eyes that stand before us. Some have searched their entire lives, as though a sea of people have moved through them because this constant searching for completion in another is a set up for heartbreak if we can never truly dwell within our own flow. If we believe another is all we need to make us feel we will always be looking with eyes that forget how to close. This love shall be false nullified by our own lack of wholeness. I´ve felt angry, betrayed and hurt within the seas of such love. All this unnecessary aching due to my own foolishness, We are the only ones who make ourselves suffer. We betray ourselves through a lack of self love, through our own sense of incompletion. Because I no longer know the meaning of lonely. Just uncontained with all the love inside of me unfulfilled by the door un-opened from within. It´s our choice we decide to not feel. Many times I was foolish, believing love had given me up, resigned and blew away just like the echo that journeys when the wind moves in the trees. Those winds carried many of my ideals and I was just yet to open to this unlimited supply not matter what or who goes by... I hadn´t noticed until I closed my eyes that Love stood unwavered just waiting for me to re-open to myself. The branches may´ve altered leaves certainly died, re-gathered re-grew but my trunk always my core. As Love is a door that´s opened from within and then lends it´s opening to be explored to be entered with you.
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45
Pour your brilliant light into my yearning mouth The darkness is so consuming, so endless Filling up every empty space between my organs, flowing with my blue blood from my heart to my toes Nauseating and sickness is what I feel Emptiness and incompletion Black tears spill over from my eyes My ears My nose It's an endless sea of black tar gathering at my feet. I await the cure you will provide The giant and flowing beautiful and glowing Masterpiece of your hand on mine I can feel the webs clearing from my heart The light consumes me How do I have faith in something so new? So I jump--faith guiding me It tells me to be patient and trust what's right Back into the darkness I go Only to discover the light
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 9:49 AM UTC
Tell Me Again How Dark I Am
A wall made of my happiest thoughts, Closing in, a broken environment collapsing at last, A hole in the ceiling allows a closer look, To the freedom lost in mere seconds, Trapped within one's self, unable to escape, The hollow body wanders through the landscape, Seeking for a piece to become whole again, Searching for the fragments of a shattered conscious, Never succeeding in this mighty mission, Endlessly, fleeting through the despair of incompletion, Erased colors draw a grey painted world, Whilst the incarcerated one suffers with each step taken, Not being able to open one's eyes, nor even protect the heart once embodied by the enlighting feeling of love, Fallen into the endless abyss, unable to advance, These happy thoughts mark the end, And also the very beginning, Of eternal slumber. ~ Umi
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
Wall
Every childhood slogan drilled into our skulls left room for incompletion and rebellion of our tongues Be kind dearest neighbor They said treat them as you would yourself... When my heart was diced in pieces behind a protective shell feelings weren't spared for any... money chasing fame dreaming dreams involving pain with actions summing up to techno-lingo-logical the only words heard spoken are implications under jokes half phrased and cut short Well i'm not waiting here for you to decide what you want to do. moving on but staying true loving me a bit more then you you see I'd reach my hand in your direction stare my longing in your eyes. now I'm staring in the mirror.... vulnerable free no disguise is holding me knowing whats underneath deserves more and finally we can release.... receive.... resurface
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Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 11:37 PM UTC
Impartial
a swirling mass of thoughts a feeling of incompletion and a sense of no direction spending nights awake letting consciousness fade and all days go to waste held in a stasis waiting for my catharsys
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Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 4:40 AM UTC
stasis
It's like 20,000 likes or knocks at the door but not one of them the company I adore emptiness, because of one vacancy An ocean of fish, only one worth the keep Different beauty, some beyond comprehension still there’s that feeling, that feeling of incompletion maybe you relate I know she’s out there, waiting to be found I don’t know where she’s from, her heart is sound She’ll relate to me, she will, apart from physical thrills Spiritual passion, and vulnerability something I cannot speak of verbally. If I could put it into writing I would, but ill get lost in my dreams Something I want, something I need, like water or air, the oxygen I... I feel her presence, but can’t find her, no matter where I go I'll write songs and poetry, in hopes she'll come to me Maybe i'll meet her at a store, or even the sea’s shore A smiling face, a presence of light, what I imagine is as radiant as a last sunrise She’s there, I swear, in my minds eye, not a race or color, she’s there Over the ocean, colors and bliss, our eyes meet Connection of the universe, this link between our brains. An imaginary moment                                                   that teases me.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Last Sunrise
*Here's to folly, to the great valley called love Which reminded me of forever through imperfections, Hardships and disappointments, of falling deeply Into discovery from self-doubt, of reaching freedom, The bore of a goal like contentment. Here's to pain, the antithesis of the stars, Of pretensions and incompletion, the middleground Between the starts and the endings, the covert catalyst, The grand surrealist, as we dread to know The fullness of our sanity, of our souls, Our fragility, of our very being. Here's to the machinery, the agitation Called dreams, the sweet fog of distant memories, Or the dark smoke of passion sometimes, Cunning as ever, like a freight train, Like wind, like havoc, like thypoon, Oftenly deprived of conclusive destinations. Here's to art, drama and poetry, the mystics, The sons and daughters of the grand mystics, Of philosophy, science and religion, not to mention History, the grand infidel, and mythology, the fibber. Answers overwhelm us, test us, and divide us, They appear when we're most not ready, Yet the questions keep us sane, ever growing, Ever sun, ever moon and ever cloud. Only time will tell and would not, The old grey, the clear dark, the pale light, It never learned a language, It only learned to live, noticed But never quite understood. How diaphanous. How vague. So here's to the confusion, to the uncertainty Like love always has been. Here's to us, to our ambitions, Our possessions, the treasures which speak Permanence in our hearts. Here's to the violent, the meek and the indifferent. Here's to the society and the humanity That's left in it. Here's to those who hate me. Here's to our faith and our fate. Here's to the poems that will never be written again. Here's to you, my love, my true. May we stay kind, mad, and human, Or something more, whatever that means, Despite the opposition, and deception and progression. So here's to the Universe. Here's to the grand riddler called existence.* © 2015 J.S.P.
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Unimagine
*Here's to folly, to the great valley called love Which reminded me of forever through imperfections, Hardships and disappointments, of falling deeply Into discovery from self-doubt, of reaching freedom, The bore of a goal like contentment. Here's to pain, the antithesis of the stars, Of pretensions and incompletion, the middleground Between the starts and the endings, the covert catalyst, The grand surrealist, as we dread to know The fullness of our sanity, of our souls, Our fragility, of our very being. Here's to the machinery, the agitation Called dreams, the sweet fog of distant memories, Or the dark smoke of passion sometimes, Cunning as ever, like a freight train, Like wind, like havoc, like thypoon, Oftenly deprived of conclusive destinations. Here's to art, drama and poetry, the mystics, The sons and daughters of the grand mystics, Of philosophy, science and religion, not to mention History, the grand infidel, and mythology, the fibber. Answers overwhelm us, test us, and divide us, They appear when we're most not ready, Yet the questions keep us sane, ever growing, Ever sun, ever moon and ever cloud. Only time will tell and would not, The old grey, the clear dark, the pale light, It never learned a language, It only learned to live, noticed But never quite understood. How diaphanous. How vague. So here's to the confusion, to the uncertainty Like love always has been. Here's to us, to our ambitions, Our possessions, the treasures which speak Permanence in our hearts. Here's to the violent, the meek and the indifferent. Here's to the society and the humanity That's left in it. Here's to those who hate me. Here's to our faith and our fate. Here's to the poems that will never be written again. Here's to you, my love, my true. May we stay kind, mad, and human, Or something more, whatever that means, Despite the opposition, and deception and progression. So here's to the Universe. Here's to the grand riddler called existence.* © 2015 J.S.P.
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48
Pulling hair out Bawling eyes Nothing is right Frustration consumes my life Do I even want to stick it out? There’s too much happening All at once All at once Too much to handle It really depresses me Just thinking about it… December 20, 2011
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Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
Incompletion
It's too late now and we can't go back and fix everything that fell apart in the time that you were taking my heart We can't put the pieces together Because they no longer Fit We've each been torn To bits Apologies don't rid the dark Won't bring the light Can't relight the spark We've harbored the pain Love is gone And We're both a little insane We're troubled and lost Can't find our way Our joy comes with a cost And we're unwilling to pay I'm sorry this can't be bargained I'm sorry for the words I didn't say And I apologize that this is good-bye Just promise never to ask why.
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Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
Apologzing for the Incompletion we are.
if you look intently close enough you might be able to see the war going on within me through my irises see all the knives poking out my skin bombs flying out my mouth but to the naked eye i am still breathing slowly intact but not completed
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May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
inner incompletion
I'm so tired of always being the one to ask, I'm so tired, knowing it won't change Unless I stop putting myself out there I want to know them all Why does the world seem so big suddenly Like it's so hard to grasp the reality of How life used to be, before I went away Before I remembered what living really meant Those days seem as simple memories now Memories though which will never vanish And cannot seem to leave me be Constantly poking at my back Knawing wholes wherever they can Like worms, they've been eating my body Along with parts of my soul I thought Were most profound and least to weaken Or is it exactly the fact that I envision A weakness in me I never had before A softness in which I have found kindness And a love that dropped all my barriers What if everything I thought I knew Was but a deception that I left myself To fall so tremendlously for Each time I stopped praying? How many of the things I did Were really selfless opposed to All the times I did those things To really make myself happy Rather than all those around me Rather than the ones I love or The people that I thought I fought for What if it's all a lie? The lie we feed ourselves in order To be able to live with ourselves While half the world is at war While more than half is starving I thought if you help your community You do your part in the world No matter if nothing will ever be enough Yet.. somehow I have this sense A sense of incompletion everywhere I look Or is that simply...because I fell in love?
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Fatigue
I'm so tired of always being the one to ask, I'm so tired, knowing it won't change Unless I stop putting myself out there I want to know them all Why does the world seem so big suddenly Like it's so hard to grasp the reality of How life used to be, before I went away Before I remembered what living really meant Those days seem as simple memories now Memories though which will never vanish And cannot seem to leave me be Constantly poking at my back Knawing wholes wherever they can Like worms, they've been eating my body Along with parts of my soul I thought Were most profound and least to weaken Or is it exactly the fact that I envision A weakness in me I never had before A softness in which I have found kindness And a love that dropped all my barriers What if everything I thought I knew Was but a deception that I left myself To fall so tremendlously for Each time I stopped praying? How many of the things I did Were really selfless opposed to All the times I did those things To really make myself happy Rather than all those around me Rather than the ones I love or The people that I thought I fought for What if it's all a lie? The lie we feed ourselves in order To be able to live with ourselves While half the world is at war While more than half is starving I thought if you help your community You do your part in the world No matter if nothing will ever be enough Yet.. somehow I have this sense A sense of incompletion everywhere I look Or is that simply...because I fell in love?
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42
Fractured Broken I'm a puzzle missing pieces doomed to incompletion and imperfection With no hope to be whole again
0
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
Brittle
A dead concern is what puts words on this page Yesterday's warm failure is these lines manifest Incompletion does not usually prove pride Yet I am proud of her
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
To Take
My life is So full of Half starts, incompletion, Should've, could've, would've, My regrets ride On my back Like I'm the One they've saddled. I have mastered The very elegant Art of inexistence. I've become so Totally lost In being afraid Of my life That I've forgotten To even live. This isn't living. Don't hate anyone. Does that include myself? Scratch that. Currently lacking a self. I'll stumble into faith. Or life. Or faith in life. No more. Never. Can't live like this. Scratch that. Not really living. Caffeine may keep me awake, but What can coffee do for an empty soul? The answer is nothing. I can mend an empty soul. My empty soul. Even as I dream of paradise while stuck on the ground. Time to live. Time to wake up. There can't be any incompletes this time.
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Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
Scratch That
Some people are complex , Not the same as all the rest . We live in obedience , yet some striving for existence . Incompletion is a condition , Causing longing for affection . Deteriorated through years of pain , so much more worth living and to gain . Feeling keeps you sane , Yet we are but mundane . I'll be whole again , Sometime sooner than then . . .
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Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
Pain is Humane