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"rectifying" poems
This isn't him, This can't be the face he's left here, This isn't the face he's used to seeing, Solidified in the mirror. It can't be the current one, Or even close, It's not at all how he recalls from the ponds he's known. Not the one admired, On crystal clear days, Or the one sang with, Through some humming nights. Maybe his memory is just fogged up, Maybe this reflection is just blurry from the showers, They'd have burned others skin. Still this can't be the face. Not with the potholes for eyes, Waning moons for lips, And cliches for brains. Or maybe things, Maybe they do just change, Maybe sometimes somethings sink in the earthquakes, And are never swam in again. Maybe sometimes there's no hope for reversal, redemption, Or some rectifying light to right what's left, Only hope in surviving the new. I guess that's all there ever was. If only he had it sooner, He would have thrived in the old world, Found melodies in the days and more mirror-less memories for the nights. Only then could things be better off, Different.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
Vampirism
#    *The killer came crashing down smashing,  thrashing through. What is tender's  tender        so  for itself,   to do?         --As it runs         right over the top of her..        This taker.        This killer. In the black,   now in between; so lightless and thick..         blotting out  all screams. There is an annihilation  here. A void. A terror. To stay, means certain death       but to leave         also means certain death       So the  d is m e m b e r men t   begins       as she is ripped, completely into half And those halves,  into half.. .. into half --into half..         into half.      And still it tears.. rips..  shreds-- Until all,  in between is nothing  but black. A black it can now  pretend to fill with all of its empty promises.. and all of its counterfeit, everything. ..And then--  just up and leaves once it is fully satiated.*      ***And for a while..      the black had something.*** *Clinging to the rocky crags on either side of the unlit valley are now  the pieces of her-- war-torn and shuddering. Terrified Of the black, black   empty. Of what is now  fully      and  completely   dark.       ~       ~      ~       ~ Timmy  ain't real tall but look at his stature, as his majestic strings   dialogue the introduction. And Warren's gotten so fat See him now, looking so dearly,  back at his half-pint of Chunky Monkey-- picking it back up,  for the fourth time.. scraping... scraping.. scraping.. But watch his eyes  light up as Timmy looks up--   over the top of those wild-man RayBans And with a gentle nod,  it all begins.. -- as our Warren  now digs  deep into his Gibson's beautifully-wanton  ways..     identifying.     clarifying.     Rectifying. Clarence, the Magician.. Stephan--  Humble, Unparalleled And Dave's  so chill he's part Creole.. I just know it. So great a cloud of witness: surrounding you, my beautiful.. coaxing  you.     Identifying it all for you.* #
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Mar 10, 2022
Mar 10, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC
the C-word
#    *The killer came crashing down smashing,  thrashing through. What is tender's  tender        so  for itself,   to do?         --As it runs         right over the top of her..        This taker.        This killer. In the black,   now in between; so lightless and thick..         blotting out  all screams. There is an annihilation  here. A void. A terror. To stay, means certain death       but to leave         also means certain death       So the  d is m e m b e r men t   begins       as she is ripped, completely into half And those halves,  into half.. .. into half --into half..         into half.      And still it tears.. rips..  shreds-- Until all,  in between is nothing  but black. A black it can now  pretend to fill with all of its empty promises.. and all of its counterfeit, everything. ..And then--  just up and leaves once it is fully satiated.*      ***And for a while..      the black had something.*** *Clinging to the rocky crags on either side of the unlit valley are now  the pieces of her-- war-torn and shuddering. Terrified Of the black, black   empty. Of what is now  fully      and  completely   dark.       ~       ~      ~       ~ Timmy  ain't real tall but look at his stature, as his majestic strings   dialogue the introduction. And Warren's gotten so fat See him now, looking so dearly,  back at his half-pint of Chunky Monkey-- picking it back up,  for the fourth time.. scraping... scraping.. scraping.. But watch his eyes  light up as Timmy looks up--   over the top of those wild-man RayBans And with a gentle nod,  it all begins.. -- as our Warren  now digs  deep into his Gibson's beautifully-wanton  ways..     identifying.     clarifying.     Rectifying. Clarence, the Magician.. Stephan--  Humble, Unparalleled And Dave's  so chill he's part Creole.. I just know it. So great a cloud of witness: surrounding you, my beautiful.. coaxing  you.     Identifying it all for you.* #
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73
I believed I was an immortal Until you began opening portals To the future and the past To the needle and the flask Portals that warp my mind Like space and time Until I dematerialize From the appearance of lies This portal I must climb back through When all the lies have become true Like when they said portals couldn't be climbed For there are no ledges Only pledges Of a hatred death wish That leaves me breathless The portals had to be sealed You became my quantum mechanic The tires of the DeLorean squealed As we abandoned my stationary driveway And started rectifying my past By driving forward The portals' gravitational pull was lifted And I could walk again A pedestrian in paradise Until you teleport into the rain And I teleport into my brain Becoming a prisoner To thoughts that travel at the speed of light And create a beautiful spectrum in the mirror you presented to me I fear the day you shatter our light barrier You'll see you're more mature And fly away like a jet that's harrier Because once you can see my thoughts You'll sell all the stock you bought You'll see I'm merely mortal And you'll open new portals
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Portals
Enlighten Me- I’m always underestimating self-master bating- Graduated- At the top of fund frustration- My motivation needs money relations- The contemplation of money making has my mind at a constant hating- My breaking patience- Has my mind like a **** relating- Regulations of all my banking- See my bank account disintegrating- I’m suffocating-making payments-Late fee statements- Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Racking bills my back is breaking-my nerves are shaking- Shaking more than I anticipated- Now I’m here with a life to fear- Writing till my mind is clear- Writing till I feel what’s real- Writing till I seal a deal- Multiplying- Adding-Subtracting-and dividing- Signing more checks than providing- It’s suicide I’m not denying-Rhyming trying its crucifying- Clocking in before the sun is rising Grinding flying hoping griming-living life nine to fiving- Its re-revising-Re-defining-Rectifying- More so that I think I’m hiding- Killing with finical violence-Violating my banks alliance- Maxing plastic so fantastic now I need some re-advising-interest rates have a grown man crying-Million dollars seem so un-winding- Now I’m whining- Constant buying- Gas rates got me into biking-riding-fighting- Just surviving-any discount seems so delighting-winning lotto seems o-so-righteous-buy one get one is so exciting- Boot leg buying I ain’t lying- Being broke is constant rewinding-It’s reminding-so relying-over drawing is my new binding-it’s confining-so I’m finding-Making takings of my disliking-Making takings that are so dang freighting-dollar scratchers are so inviting- But this realization is so enlightening- Moving as fast as a bolt of lighting- I’m asking you G-d to help me like this- I’m feeling the pain and I think I might just- ROB ME A BANK- BY: RICHARD ITSKOVICH
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Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 2:57 PM UTC
Enlighten Me-
Enlighten Me- I’m always underestimating self-master bating- Graduated- At the top of fund frustration- My motivation needs money relations- The contemplation of money making has my mind at a constant hating- My breaking patience- Has my mind like a **** relating- Regulations of all my banking- See my bank account disintegrating- I’m suffocating-making payments-Late fee statements- Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Debit-Credit-Cash-oking Racking bills my back is breaking-my nerves are shaking- Shaking more than I anticipated- Now I’m here with a life to fear- Writing till my mind is clear- Writing till I feel what’s real- Writing till I seal a deal- Multiplying- Adding-Subtracting-and dividing- Signing more checks than providing- It’s suicide I’m not denying-Rhyming trying its crucifying- Clocking in before the sun is rising Grinding flying hoping griming-living life nine to fiving- Its re-revising-Re-defining-Rectifying- More so that I think I’m hiding- Killing with finical violence-Violating my banks alliance- Maxing plastic so fantastic now I need some re-advising-interest rates have a grown man crying-Million dollars seem so un-winding- Now I’m whining- Constant buying- Gas rates got me into biking-riding-fighting- Just surviving-any discount seems so delighting-winning lotto seems o-so-righteous-buy one get one is so exciting- Boot leg buying I ain’t lying- Being broke is constant rewinding-It’s reminding-so relying-over drawing is my new binding-it’s confining-so I’m finding-Making takings of my disliking-Making takings that are so dang freighting-dollar scratchers are so inviting- But this realization is so enlightening- Moving as fast as a bolt of lighting- I’m asking you G-d to help me like this- I’m feeling the pain and I think I might just- ROB ME A BANK- BY: RICHARD ITSKOVICH
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41
She loved            the city            the night stars    the snow She loved Love especially          falling               in                   Love but now       feels Nothing not even the blizzard’s icey teeth sinking its fangs into her skin. To her right is the road that She followed to break free of the quiet, safe life worth anything and everything now. Then She looks to the deceiving mirage of a new start, a bright happy future filled with big beautiful towers glowing their fake lights like amber constellations. her fault : believing She was strong practically invincible safe and nobody could take that away but in one moment all that fragile strength was lost. She never asked for   the nightmares   the fear of Him or for the responsibility of two heart beats but He didn’t listen, said nobody will ever believe her and once She found out about It She lost her mind completely. looking down to the rage of rapids She places her hands on her sick stomach listens to the ZOOM of the carefree cars their sounds verifying that She is finally                  entirely invisible. nobody notices        her hair restless in the wind   the hem of her dress        gently kissing the steele beam            that freezes her bare purple feet. nobody notices when She finally escapes   when She sets herself free and falls into rectifying darkness.
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
Escape
The potency froths the glass in ghostly embers. Rectifying a suppressed kiss. Liquid's juicy lubrication sweats as the icy voice asks, refill my void. Fingernails cling like thorns to skin. Waterlogged and fogged, my footsteps fall, sloppy little domino. Mindful thoughts yank at drunk appendages. One too many benders, far too many hands. Awake, the memory kaleidoscopes. Pieces unmatched. Strange images fade, meshed in sheets. evidence stains.
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Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 5:09 PM UTC
Ashes of Last Night
I wanted to find the moment when I should have known Felt the bone-chilling cold in my soul Yet I never saw the lights blazing, staring straight ahead Never saw this dream of mine grow cold So beautiful and imposing, my heart stood no chance Of rectifying the damage that was done All of my best intentions to forever stand alone Were banished in the moment that you walked in my sun Now all my dreams of perfect solitude I have tossed in the wind From the very moment that I first saw your face Alone as I planned, you destroyed with your hands A splendid love you left there in its place This bone-chilling cold I felt down in my soul Has been replaced, with a white-hot fire of delight My heart soars in the air and smiles with no end As together, our two hearts, take flight
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Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 7:05 AM UTC
Flight
My wasted memory is messing with me. A memory where I was left hanging threaded through a needle I found in a haystack. My past showed up and she sent my thoughts into a vortex of uneasiness. I tried to reconcile with that memory, but it wasn’t as rectifying as I had hoped. Chaos surrounds the calm realm I store the memory—waiting for its chance to erupt and resurrect what I wished would stay dead. It’s a wasted memory for a reason— I want it to stay that way. She comes off as rude and makes it obvious— the only time she ever makes her intentions known. She took advantage of my vulnerability and left me sunk as lost treasure. I need to learn to see some things for what they are sometimes, and that sometimes a memory is just a memory. I’m wasted, it’s wasted; give me a double shot of Jack Daniels and let’s keep things that way.
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
Wasted Memory
Fume of the mystic air flows to create an invisible lodge a harmonic rhythm of knowing the other. Sanctuary of Love shelters the Kiss. Received touch makes up points of  Desire as flesh and blood from the etheric. She, A fluid transparency made of interchangeable unique crystalline particles of unseen color, Reflects an indefinable atomic structure Draws contours of a  body that subtly shapes along the kiss. ‘Kiss me’ is a thankful whisper ‘Play me to a oneness’ gratifies the breath along  her neck,   lips, forehead   and knees an anechoic chamber of limpid breeze rectifying bliss an irrefutable awareness of joy   a gifted  Unity an honored desire She feels the colors of zephyr and without visualizing grows into the derived equivalence of emerging pinks or  jutting greens she is destined to remain as invisible as his’… not owned - not reserved interdependency ‘nothing stays nowhere a thing is not received  if you are not there A blessing of the moment  is everywhere you are drawn to where and what you truly were’ As the body gets formed miracle gets real As miracle gets real the body gets formed and mutates a lucent gate towards a universe so The wind can pass At the edge she molds to … …. a ……….something new The lover the love The now at now senses itself   in white lines a bridal delicacy ‘A flower’ tales say with myriad petals living at the edge of the universe She reads the volatile coolness of the warm colored differently sized light trace  that the fumes, the kiss , the breath, the blow, the zephyr, the lover has become for her she traces his ever expanding Trace so that perpetually  he shall progress for the universe while she remains and observes as her nature requires her to be as their dual existence is conditioned to as is nature’s one unconditional or Love’s She,  the precision of  joy that he creates for the eternal witness of bliss Colored by divine light of rejuvenation of freedom of truth breathes at a place beyond thoughts at the edge of a universe.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
Edge of the Universe
Fume of the mystic air flows to create an invisible lodge a harmonic rhythm of knowing the other. Sanctuary of Love shelters the Kiss. Received touch makes up points of  Desire as flesh and blood from the etheric. She, A fluid transparency made of interchangeable unique crystalline particles of unseen color, Reflects an indefinable atomic structure Draws contours of a  body that subtly shapes along the kiss. ‘Kiss me’ is a thankful whisper ‘Play me to a oneness’ gratifies the breath along  her neck,   lips, forehead   and knees an anechoic chamber of limpid breeze rectifying bliss an irrefutable awareness of joy   a gifted  Unity an honored desire She feels the colors of zephyr and without visualizing grows into the derived equivalence of emerging pinks or  jutting greens she is destined to remain as invisible as his’… not owned - not reserved interdependency ‘nothing stays nowhere a thing is not received  if you are not there A blessing of the moment  is everywhere you are drawn to where and what you truly were’ As the body gets formed miracle gets real As miracle gets real the body gets formed and mutates a lucent gate towards a universe so The wind can pass At the edge she molds to … …. a ……….something new The lover the love The now at now senses itself   in white lines a bridal delicacy ‘A flower’ tales say with myriad petals living at the edge of the universe She reads the volatile coolness of the warm colored differently sized light trace  that the fumes, the kiss , the breath, the blow, the zephyr, the lover has become for her she traces his ever expanding Trace so that perpetually  he shall progress for the universe while she remains and observes as her nature requires her to be as their dual existence is conditioned to as is nature’s one unconditional or Love’s She,  the precision of  joy that he creates for the eternal witness of bliss Colored by divine light of rejuvenation of freedom of truth breathes at a place beyond thoughts at the edge of a universe.
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96
Here it comes the words you want to say but never do. You hold them up in your mouth. That tongue's so red of yours Aren't you tired of biting down. So hard on the harsh truth You lose like a poet the right words to choose when you're rectifying all the lying but it's pretty when You call me honey And say, "it's nothing personal" but I care for you and I think about your face when you say, 'Everything is fine,' When nothing's going right. Aren't you tired of the blood spat back in the sink? How you think you're On the brink of discovering my secrets. Just kiss me on the cheek and whisper something sweet in my ear before saying things I don't want to hear I'll still listen as long as the words don't stop.
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Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Blood in the Sink
taking place at bar after rare occurrence of an early night. ordered a single whisky and tall beer. the drunkard opposite found agreement in the random statements i interjected between him and blonde bartender. cheaesing his Miller to my whiskey because of false-statement passed through these winter-warped lips. cheersing, to words that are false belief. if only to retain him to placated stupor. opened book of Style, left-to-right this hand underlining sentences and rectifying the self-criticism ever present. talking louder, 'i just don't hear as well as i once could.' he orders another but sends it to vacant chair adjacent mine. stumbling, moving from his ritual spot. sitting, he claims his upbringing as Southern Baptist. after i announced the denomination to my rearing in childhood. 'you're a christian, good.' but i don't have the heart to elaborate upon the crazed and pantheistic beliefs i hold in truth. 'you were baptized and saved?' i lied, for truth is my soul will burn in hell according to this man's -- self-proclaimed sinner -- drunkenly spewed theological underst- atments. his words slur as he falls into elaboration of Bible conspiracies. adding a few 'fucks' here and there, and always in concern of his opinion of Muslims -- awkward. my boss in background chimes; we had a similar conversation moments before. now my words betray everything stated during prior moment. i order another beer then excuse myself to ****
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
drunkard, a casual-dining experience.
today i felt the need to let go. no, im not telling you for the sake of seeking attention. but today i had to let go... let go of my worries, stresses, thoughts, insecurities that have been engulfing me; worsening by the moment. so i erased it all from my mind. only giving it the freedom to return at any other time any other time but now. because i could no longer carry the suffocating weight of the burden of those feelings on my mind my sanity was on the brink of mental destruction, overwhelming and no control. so i let it out feelings and thoughts in a way that brought with it a limited peace card. in the form of steamy streams of hot torrents that manifested the arduous pain - my bottled up emotions and its result that came in floods leaving me feeling a drip of rectifying relief... but not close to feeling satisfied. although to be honest it pacified me long enough for me to attentively apprehend that emotions and feelings were tides; continuously falling and rising but with time I’d be in the last stages of my metamorphosis I’d be in control of the tide I’d be surfing along its waves finally infused with tranquility because for the first time in what would be a long time, i would be at peace. -z
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Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:31 AM UTC
PEACE
Sit inside the tube of eternal thought Hearing the train roar by Clack clack on the steel Erasing memories of the bleeding brain Pick up the ribbon of sorrow Blind yourself with nothing but temptation Silent tears pound the pavement Rectifying my existence with pain Cross my emotions with rooted aggression Tempt my fate by the tangled noose My toes sweep the chair, tipped over It grips my neck, one last breath
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
Hang my emotions
It’s 3am and I’m still up Not for the usual reasons. There’s no beasts at my door Nary a cloud to threaten my pate with showers Not a beat or a drop being drunk No trains to far off snow streaked drips Nor a silken skinned goddess thieving my sleep With manacling locks and glazed over eyes It’s more mundane and a lot less dramatic Making calls to far off lands Organising, rectifying. Office work for the witching hours Adulting is such fun Yaaaay
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 2:38 AM UTC
3am chores
By; Cedric McClester The Governor apologized But the people of Flint realized He had pulled the wool over their eyes With contaminated water supplies It happened when he switched the source From Lake Huron to the Flint River, of course It was to save money but he now has remorse And his voice is starting to get hoarse And if the people needed further proof To realize that somebody goofed Now the lead levels have gone through the roof And this is the naked truth See it’s gone from bad to worst And the damage can’t be reversed So the people are feeling cursed They need bottled water to quench their thirst They’re drawing Lake Huron water once more And that’s a good restart for sure Although it isn’t a magical cure Cuz the water will remain unpure Until the water is filtered and the pipes are clean The lead will be there albeit unseen Negatively affecting the brains and the spleen The people will still be betwixed and between It was the Governor’s people they say That made it all happen that way And to date no one’s had to pay For the damages or for the delay In rectifying the situation The people have had to be patient Listening to their public relations But who’s answering the allegations? Cedric McClester, Copyright 2016.  All rights reserved.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
THE GOVERNOR APOLOGIZED
Silver climbing up my arm, Sharp and twisted brings me joy, Twisted how it is so wrong, Twisted how my heart races like a bullet through my head Racing, racing, always racing Blood calms me down, brings me peace when I’m alone The ****** lullaby I sing in my head, is scorned upon by all I love Funny how if it didn’t leave scars nothing could stop me from playing my ****** lullaby all night long My fingers such masters at the keys, playing crimson notes on my skin and rectifying memories of days gone by This is my music, my song, and I lose it because of them They cause my pain, and I try to cushion it with my lullaby But they don’t let me Its funny how it hurts so good, How one song can lead to so much trouble, And its funnier how they see me cry, And do nothing, But one little cut and the fear gets turned on, So I’ll keep on singing my ****** lullaby, in secrets small and invisible, To one day feel joy again and for once feel at peace.
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
****** Lullaby
The greatest mistake Is'nt making the greatest mistake, But the greatest mistake Is rectifying not a slight mistake, For this culminates in the greatest mistake. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros. Jumeirah, Dubai. 7th.FEB.2018.
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Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
THE GREATEST MISTAKE [QUOTE 01]
The world surrounds the in’s and out’s, the truth in the authentic locus, Millions of people move the scouts, in order to increase their focus. The corrupt world, induces to follow the tradition, Creaming the beneficial fold, making the submerging the verification. Contempting the placid, that none other would do, Blemishing the bracket, elaborating the déjà vu. Alteration is necessary, and a proximate change we need, Admitting the weary, was a very doltish deed. Trepidation should be removed, the coercion it had built, Destroying its aged bedrock, and the selfish guilt. Resuming the rejuvenate change, the mutate we devoir, Establishing the new welkin, and the heavens we desire. Commemorating the new holy, we partage our obligations, Rectifying our contemporary folly, by deciphering our bygone praxis.
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
CHANGE WE NEED
rectifying desires of ill-perceived intentions because what the mind thinks it wants is deception of pleasure candy-coated poison helping the vitriolic hard-pills-to-swallow go down greens transform to intermittent reds reflective plashes amplify a glossy atmosphere as steamy plumes smudge colors like the tears in my eyes flares from passing lamplight: an inconstant reminder bright spots of life are just as transient and the darkest portions losing myself between spaces separating drops on the windshield my brain reverts to cruise-control perhaps trapped between dreary thoughts or weary from overexertion hate what you are; hate what's becoming harden your heart, grow up there's an enveloping comfort of the dark a cool relief from life's limelight on total depravity with my eyes closed, I can't see any of it with cacophonic beats, I can't hear my thoughts an addiction to instances untouched by time
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Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 4:27 PM UTC
Rectification to static
Misperceiving all the earlier ruins from sentiment, Started by discrediting feelings that mold agony. Past excruciation of inflicted gashes led to trauma, Triggering continuous regret on a timeline for years. Present day disapproval is caused by painful history, Also through existing paths which are unwelcomed. What must be entailed is change in current presence, Not by mending previous events that inflamed harm. Former memories from scars rectified through coping, A process that occurs after the era of now is repaired. Rebuild a life based on bliss immediately with help, Beginning new perception that heals every sad moment.
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 9:49 AM UTC
Rectifying All Sentiment
Lonely voices tear at me, Sibilent whispering with no end. Caress my collarbone, Taste every inch of the skin. Asinine bleeding, lost on me, Raging fire inside my skull. Corrupting and rusting my being inside. Beautiful afflictions **** the mind, Rancid and fleeting, indiscriminate. In nobis mortuus deambulatio, Morbus animorum detracta. Requiem lost among the dead, Dreamers lose hope after drought, Rectifying the overdose.
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
Miseriam
Falling for you was the best mistake i've ever committed And i have absolutely no intentions of rectifying it No one increases my heart rate like you do And i intend to keep it that way My heart only feels for you My mind only thinks of you My eyes only want to see you And my arms only want to hold you
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
Untitled 15
"Take a look in the mirror, what do you see? All that is staring back is your reflection. A reflection of what, of who you are, or whom you use to be? Only one person can change your life and only one person can make you who you are. That person is yourself." "Every mistake, every lie will catch up to you. So be prepared to face it at the end. Don't try to run away from your past because it will follow you. You can't cover up the trail of your mistakes and expect all of your problems to go away. It only takes one time for the wind to blow on it and reveal it once more." Every breath of air we take in, is another secret we hold deep within Every sacrifice that we make, is just another chance to see the change Fewer days that are left, which leaves us with nothing but more of our regrets Face to face with our lies, still trying to deny Starting to believe what was created in our minds, now we desire to know the truth Setting off on a journey to our past, hoping to find something new All of our lives we decided to hide underneath these lies Then one day a past event reminded us what we use to be like Finding hope and strength, trying to reveal what we had erase Now we spend everyday, rectifying our mistakes How far does one go? Just to figure out what they didn't know Was it worth the change? Was it worth the lies? That I guess, I'll let you decide
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Who Are You?
going back to different choices she knows now, that would have been the bigger mistake
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
rectifying