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Donna Apr 2019
Silly blocked up nose
Stupid irratating cough
Float far away please
My daughter my son and now me have this awful virus and I’m totally feeling sorry for myself x
Space Dec 2012
12/4/12

I struggled just to have  found what i wanted
Echoes listening on to your songs
Wondering whats different in you
From the first noise to a  lastly ending laugh
A stuck knife between a rib and a lie
Inside those caves echoed into a sun thats not too far away
But still far enough away for us to not to understand
Hearts pounding like they found something
Hearts pounding like their always losing a race
Like Whats been eating into this dead space
Stuck between your ribs and all my lies
Blessings criticize and they hurt so badly
The itch on skin
Irratating my thoughts like a rash
Irrationaly placed on the skin that breathes in
Subject to only what you tell yourself you saw

So lonesome, take me home
Take me away from a place like this
No sound is irrelevent to what's on the menu
But it just wasnt the  soundtrack for finding you
But the sounds listened through classical and pain, or was it something in between
Whats this in the water
This murky soot
Too much to lose, Except deciding on what to Drink
What to prepare for
Because my thoughts ate all that was there for
The changing
Crystalizing into music
Shifting from human
Humming, deep from the throat
Echoing how we grow on to the known
And the faces that pass through nights
Decisive little *****
But just a craving that reaches back to whats basic
The substances that will enter, what is it going to be laced with
Whats going to pass through a head thinking of dreaming
But instead, seeing a feeling 
That grasps for its attention
Lasts in retention 
And exasperates nature, molding clay like brains, but still viewed in a different place
Still written in past tense
Like your somebody to have seen instead of see
To have eaten instead of chewed
Words you throw around are only a come to be
Pieces of bark ripped off
Shattered the skins of trees
A darkness pressing against my brain
Tapping on the window, leaving a jet trail through the heat of moisture
As its finger runs through the window with the wind turned down,
And windows roled up so much, until you cant see through all the cracked glass
The clenched teeth, chipping streets
I fall, because of the steepness
The angular path that intersects the empty space
Poetic T May 2016
I lingered in pockets of madness, they were
like crushed velvet on my fingertips.
Soft gentle with a hint of static on my nails.

When I had lived in sanity it wore on me
like a cotton jumper, irratating  me, my
thoughts rational and lucid I felt *****.

*"We are only as crazy as the world around us,

— The End —