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"relentlessness" poems
Shake it What do you hear? Hold it What do you feel? Sniff it What do you smell? View it What do you see? The angst to know What lies inside Is hard to hide. It’s mystery, And it’s **** The beginning, The middle, and, The end of time All consist of Some unknown rhyme, Unknown reason. The want to know, The need to find Consumes the mind. Curiousness Creates motive, Motive creates Relentlessness. Being **** Leads to lust. A want to know Becomes a must. A mystery That cant be touched Is like a star That can’t be seen. Glowing somewhere In the distance We search and search For what’s hidden. Can it be found? Maybe it won’t, Maybe it will. Until it is The mystery Remains **** And a turn on To the conscious Lustful fervor. The dark abyss Of mystery Is an ocean That is raging With sexiness.
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Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 10:36 AM UTC
The Sexiness of Mystery
Then out of nowhere and at once, the voice stopped. No lingering feeling of self hate The questions The pondering It all came to a halt A thing that’s been with me all these years Came to an abrupt end Not bitter Not sweet Just end An ending i’ve been hoping, but not waiting on I didn’t know that there was such a thing As an end to it A blabbering, mumbling sorrow of self pity Or just a mere convenience of a lexicon with words to degrade myself A daily reminder of how worthless I was So I would’ve never forgotten my reason A reason never explained Never cared for With a reach of a sovereign hand I touch the notes Floundering through the air Playing a floating piano “A river flows in you” Caring for unprotected skin I was waiting for a different ending An abrupt ending, not like this one Fingernails not bitten off bleeding A curious feeling of relentlessness Not used to the feeling of not being alone It all came to a halt A voice that’s been with me for years A sadness of emptiness is nowhere to be found A clue to a healthy mind Maybe a fear of what could’ve been if not the voice left A sort of trembling worry of who to now complain when I do wrong An understatement of falling leaves from my tree I know my family will be glad Even though I haven’t ever told them bout the pain I contain Who to be worthy shall never pass Through my gates of hell No one is worthy of that pain Maybe not even me? I think this was and end worth waiting for
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Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 6:27 PM UTC
An ending worth waiting for
Know this—I am well acquainted with the wolf, Well versed in his ways, his demeanor, His dispassionate relentlessness, His pitiless focus on hunt and hunted, His workaday disdain of pity. There are those who would laud the mythical Spartan lad Who hid the wolf beneath his cloak, Affecting some gallant stoicism As the beast consumed him without restraint, But I say to you that is a mere romantic fallacy, A wanton failure to apprehend the true moral. I have learned that there is no accommodation, No covenant to be reached with the wolf, And any attempt to do so is merely to invite destruction, And so I choose to engage him openly, without reservation, Rolling tail-over-teacup in the streets, Attempting to hold his jaws open with bare hands While those who find such battle unseemly and uncouth Jeer and hoot from porch and portico. No matter, for I will continue to meet the cur on my terms, For staid suffering in the hopes Of reaching some accord with the beast Is the not the act of the noble sage: It is the mock heroics of the coward, The sad acquiescence of the simpering fool.
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
A Variation On Edgar Lee Masters' "Dorcas Gustine"
1   Grey sky greyer sea a litter of rocks balance coat bright hat blue mittens striped as on these November steps you collect the gifts of the ebb tide   2 Glint green this living tapestry echoes Jilly’s field with tractor not Devon but salt-flats rocky revetments moorland rising a map crossed by a chiromatic line our destiny marked out on this concrete wall?   3 Beached clinkered double-ender a bay-courser sjekte strand-crunched fit once for Viking raiders two abreast now daubed with tin ends of patriotic paint a sea-steed hobbled hard on the shore   4 Bow faced a sea helmet thrice rope strapped slow moulded over the boat builder’s ribbanded jig a spanglehelm of wood curved sheer straked plank bilged a tuck stern raising its proud head seaward   5 Viewed from the air a map rolls out north to the tilted curve of the horizon’s rim cloud scattered mountained red betwixt seas sun chalked wine-stained a volcanic isthmus provokes desert the western waste land of  a brooding city   6 Oh face of ropes knot eyed! you blue cheeked wide smiler wild wild your  head of hair beachcombed and splayed wrapped on the sternest post   7 She sewed sugar kelp on the sea shore a sporophyte with sheltered frond​ strap-like stem stiff and smooth of the species saccharina a spring-tide stalk set among substrates shells and stones   8 I the camera turned and caressed by her slight fingers (the pinky raised) my viewfinder close to her blue grey eye / I focus on this kelp-needled novelty feel her breath wait for the thumb press the electronic click   9 Here is the beach walked in darkness the fishermen shadows against the moonstruck ebb fingers laced the sea’s breath in our ears wave upon wave un-folding on the sand and  later we unfold then draw back in love’s relentlessness
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Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 4:09 AM UTC
Gifts from the ebb tide
1   Grey sky greyer sea a litter of rocks balance coat bright hat blue mittens striped as on these November steps you collect the gifts of the ebb tide   2 Glint green this living tapestry echoes Jilly’s field with tractor not Devon but salt-flats rocky revetments moorland rising a map crossed by a chiromatic line our destiny marked out on this concrete wall?   3 Beached clinkered double-ender a bay-courser sjekte strand-crunched fit once for Viking raiders two abreast now daubed with tin ends of patriotic paint a sea-steed hobbled hard on the shore   4 Bow faced a sea helmet thrice rope strapped slow moulded over the boat builder’s ribbanded jig a spanglehelm of wood curved sheer straked plank bilged a tuck stern raising its proud head seaward   5 Viewed from the air a map rolls out north to the tilted curve of the horizon’s rim cloud scattered mountained red betwixt seas sun chalked wine-stained a volcanic isthmus provokes desert the western waste land of  a brooding city   6 Oh face of ropes knot eyed! you blue cheeked wide smiler wild wild your  head of hair beachcombed and splayed wrapped on the sternest post   7 She sewed sugar kelp on the sea shore a sporophyte with sheltered frond​ strap-like stem stiff and smooth of the species saccharina a spring-tide stalk set among substrates shells and stones   8 I the camera turned and caressed by her slight fingers (the pinky raised) my viewfinder close to her blue grey eye / I focus on this kelp-needled novelty feel her breath wait for the thumb press the electronic click   9 Here is the beach walked in darkness the fishermen shadows against the moonstruck ebb fingers laced the sea’s breath in our ears wave upon wave un-folding on the sand and  later we unfold then draw back in love’s relentlessness
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54
words at most are sign posts never touching what's real minds watching yearning to feel and at least the beasts of burden I'm sorry i beg your pardon i didn't mean those words that cut to the bone the words said in anguish the words that you moan love has its own language that communicates by touch you speak to me you tell me so much the words I weave are a cry for help please don't leave this is what I felt fault lines through and through cracks in my sentences words no longer the glue the endless relentlessness of thoughts circling like sharks they haunt my deepest parts the weakest heart pumping out words of dread this is what I said you said the words that line our bed sleeping on novels we are apostles of language tell me how you manage all your words how do you discard them with such ease no gratitude no need your smile sells more empty words than I could ever write I'm never right how could I be when words are all I see so please use your lips to silence my sentences wrap your tongue around my words i promise you some you've never heard.
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 7:38 PM UTC
words words words
cliche, boring, bland and weak based upon a foundation of chic pseudo-intellectual you distract from your lack with your apathetic crap entomology and intonation i call it character ************ you do it too often, many of you just be who you are so we can shine through i just have to get this off my chest... your subject matter concerns love who would've guessed it rhymes and chimes and deliverance isn't best and if one skims just beginning and end there is no need for the rest lacking originality either resolve or contradiction not cryptic nor a riddle in sight not an original thought nor display of risk you can learn here from this one write what you could never tell east from west and even though, you'll be better so it will never be as clever as thee so just hide behind your traditional text its not that i seek to pick on the weak its quite the contrary- start over with command so you understand it is the fraudulent that i detest it is lack of interest and tact and i won't take it back your technique is as the rest. you slack in approach you couldn't hold my attention from the first line to the next no captivation no eccentricity no enigma flooding, you are, a pest parasitic in your relentlessness attention seeking for all the wrong reasons leading poetry to its death you bore me truly insincerely yours, unafraid to best.
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Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 6:28 PM UTC
simply jest
we drink soda like its alcohol and pop pills like they’re candy we eat fast food like its healthy and pray to god like he’s good we throw up in back-alley toilets and **** our children in plain sight we can’t remember bad times and think of good ones lost we learn from death and not dying and examine till meaning is gone we exist in an air of relentlessness and read a compass lacking north
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May 10, 2011
May 10, 2011 at 5:44 PM UTC
poem for the modern age
Your sapphire eyes that glow with a ring of fiery hazel The way your smile lights up the entirety of your face How your soft lips feel pressed firmly against mine The peace in your limbs as your drift into sleep How genuinely good of a person you are Every line in your hands that I try to memorize with mine Your beautiful heart and its skipped beats The passion behind your decisions in life Your relentlessness even in the face of fear The undeniable strength you wield that blows my mind daily Your perseverance despite the hard life you’ve faced How much of a capacity you possess to love others, good and bad The sounds of your voice whispering that you love me for the first time Your vulnerability in sharing your most intimate secrets with me You
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 3:53 AM UTC
I Love
This early morning time (you do not know - however much I share its joys) has been a space, a time aside for me: to be beside your bed, your sleeping head, hard into the pillow’s soft rest, deep among dreams of swarming fish, the basking shark, the limpet shell, gannets (always gannets), and the otter. Seeing its running prints, its tell-tale spraint, the sleek brownness, sea-sluiced washing on rocks meters away, you told me the wonder at it all, your voice sparkling as the sun-glinting sea sparkles.   And I am free for once to share your time aside. Sore and poor, the relentlessness of making stops. I am chair-bound. The radio, my books, your dear letters lie beside the drugs and flowers on this small table where I write. There is time to think beyond the next bar and the next. There is time to contemplate the thrill and joy of you though far away, yet brim-full of such sights that feed my soul.   Oh, the innocent joy of exclamation, each rush of every description made. The music of your observation, so harmonious, so pure-toned, As though the land, the sea, the sky, wrapping around itself (and tied at your feet), sings.   To share this time aside is the sweetest kiss, the tenderest touch, the most loving, loving look. Know that please. Know what happiness you’ve brought to me and bring.
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Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 2:13 AM UTC
A Time Aside
the younger me lies beneath my battered skin frightened. as if at any moment i will tear her out claw at her edges and spit on her fragile figure as if i will forget toss her away so she becomes a memory of a nightmare that can only be reached by fingertips and former friends
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
naptime relentlessness
it's your presence that keeps me grounded it's your boundless love that keeps me hopeful and it's your relentlessness that keeps me alive. you are the biggest part of my recovery.
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Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC
recovery
The rain falls like tears, slow and steady. These clouds loom overhead. I can see the light fighting to peak from behind.... There is a gentle release. The rain is washing the world, as these tears wash the soul, leaving a crisp luminosity. Tender with the reflection of the areas the light fails to reach. The area where they meet, the light and the rain, the smile and the tears... Reveals a rainbow. A spectrum of emotion and color- with no reachable end. So beautiful, so touching. Human nature. Humanity, and nature. Complex reflections of one another. Unending uncertainty, and unrivaled relentlessness shows unparalleled misunderstanding.
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Spirit of Life
Protected by your existence like a canopy of green, Shielded from the relentlessness of the driving sun, I pass alone in this wood, My own existence of no consequence to you. My verdurous being, a revered reflection of yours, Purposefully strides through this untrodden thicket. A determined will is mine, Emboldened by the prominence of your own stature. Yours is a mettle tested by the summer tempest, Cultivated in the rich soil of the ancient detritus - An earned eminence, Beyond the grasps of many adoring hands. Reaching is just a feeble attempt at an earthly yearning; Your presence in my mind is a more satisfying ownership. It is what you are that I own, Taken away only by being untrue to yourself.
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
Canopy
Dear "adults", I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school, As if there's some sort of unspoken rule That the time we spend in such a place Is supposed to be sublime. "Stop complaining." I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day I wasn't supposed to mask what I say And tell you that everything is swell. To what extent will you dismiss my discontent Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays? "You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world." The "real world"? Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you? From all I've been through in my life, High school has presented me with the most strife, and so Since when is a bit of resentment Unjustified? The nerve you pride Yourself in having, presuming That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality Is infuriatingly consuming. How can you think we could make any sense Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced? This I cannot comprehend. But maybe you want us to pretend? "How was school today?" Oh, it was okay. I only dealt with misunderstanding, The pressure of classes being so demanding, The difficulty of self consciousness That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness. I only endured mental exhaustion From switching subjects each hour, without option. I simply struggled with your expectation That colleges should long to give me an invitation, Even though I'm being forced to commit to A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through. School is a privilege, we know, Yet, so is possessing a job. So why, then, am I a snob, When you're allowed to 'complain'? I realize that life could be much worse for me, And someday high school might seem like a breeze, But until the day comes when I become aware That the troubles of high school cannot compare, Let me have my time to vent, please.
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Sincerely, a High Schooler
Dear "adults", I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school, As if there's some sort of unspoken rule That the time we spend in such a place Is supposed to be sublime. "Stop complaining." I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day I wasn't supposed to mask what I say And tell you that everything is swell. To what extent will you dismiss my discontent Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays? "You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world." The "real world"? Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you? From all I've been through in my life, High school has presented me with the most strife, and so Since when is a bit of resentment Unjustified? The nerve you pride Yourself in having, presuming That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality Is infuriatingly consuming. How can you think we could make any sense Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced? This I cannot comprehend. But maybe you want us to pretend? "How was school today?" Oh, it was okay. I only dealt with misunderstanding, The pressure of classes being so demanding, The difficulty of self consciousness That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness. I only endured mental exhaustion From switching subjects each hour, without option. I simply struggled with your expectation That colleges should long to give me an invitation, Even though I'm being forced to commit to A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through. School is a privilege, we know, Yet, so is possessing a job. So why, then, am I a snob, When you're allowed to 'complain'? I realize that life could be much worse for me, And someday high school might seem like a breeze, But until the day comes when I become aware That the troubles of high school cannot compare, Let me have my time to vent, please.
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47
The warrior clings, Claws, fights to fight Still with bullets in her back She crawls The wind howls persistently, Consistently blows Against the trees When they refuse to bow The water beats and leaks, Drips on stone To wear it down, drown it Even if it takes one hundred Lives and paths around the Earth The salmon leap dams Until their silver flesh Grows blue and bruised, Their insides batter, And still they climb The birds fly south A thousand miles from All they know, With the threat of frost On their feathers When they survive another year, When the salmon bare children, When the stone finally moves And gives way to a new fresh spring, When the trees crash, And new life sprouts From the deadened base, When the soldier takes the final blow… These helpless participants In a world they didn't design Become the catalyst, key For a whole new world to blossom and bloom They're not in it for the thrill For their health, While with broken, blackend bodies They bleed onward They don't do it Because they want to Or because they were encouraged Or because it was commanded of them They don't do it because law And nature demands, Or because they are programmed to There's no wealth, No thoughts of glory In those moments at the end When it is "succeed or fail" They do it because they must. Because not doing it isn't an option Because a life without their deeds Is not life Because if they don't… their world will die. It is for this same desire Same perseverance, Insistence Tenacity Relentlessness With no option but to keep fighting No other words but "fight", No other thoughts but "do" No other breaths Than the small gasp of pain Followed by the determined gulp of air It is with the same breaths that I cannot cease Cannot desist Cannot resign Cannot send in the white flag Cannot accept the fate Cannot let it be That you are slipping away. I must take the beatings, and keep fighting. I must accept the wounds, the bullets, And keep crawling for you. I must succeed. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. Because dying isn't an option. The war was won The new life bloomed The salmon bred The birds survived the season And we will see the light again. Because it must be.
0
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
I Cannot-- Because I Must
The warrior clings, Claws, fights to fight Still with bullets in her back She crawls The wind howls persistently, Consistently blows Against the trees When they refuse to bow The water beats and leaks, Drips on stone To wear it down, drown it Even if it takes one hundred Lives and paths around the Earth The salmon leap dams Until their silver flesh Grows blue and bruised, Their insides batter, And still they climb The birds fly south A thousand miles from All they know, With the threat of frost On their feathers When they survive another year, When the salmon bare children, When the stone finally moves And gives way to a new fresh spring, When the trees crash, And new life sprouts From the deadened base, When the soldier takes the final blow… These helpless participants In a world they didn't design Become the catalyst, key For a whole new world to blossom and bloom They're not in it for the thrill For their health, While with broken, blackend bodies They bleed onward They don't do it Because they want to Or because they were encouraged Or because it was commanded of them They don't do it because law And nature demands, Or because they are programmed to There's no wealth, No thoughts of glory In those moments at the end When it is "succeed or fail" They do it because they must. Because not doing it isn't an option Because a life without their deeds Is not life Because if they don't… their world will die. It is for this same desire Same perseverance, Insistence Tenacity Relentlessness With no option but to keep fighting No other words but "fight", No other thoughts but "do" No other breaths Than the small gasp of pain Followed by the determined gulp of air It is with the same breaths that I cannot cease Cannot desist Cannot resign Cannot send in the white flag Cannot accept the fate Cannot let it be That you are slipping away. I must take the beatings, and keep fighting. I must accept the wounds, the bullets, And keep crawling for you. I must succeed. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. I must keep fighting. Because dying isn't an option. The war was won The new life bloomed The salmon bred The birds survived the season And we will see the light again. Because it must be.
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88
Digging my own grave with only the handle of a shovel That's the level of commitment that I bring But I should tell you this one thing That also means I have lost the battle Probably because I could never gain control Up such and such creek with no paddle No shanty to sing Mistakenly trusted an Icarus wing But that was years ago Here I am, still stuck in the flow For what seems like a couple hundred millennia or so Combating my own soul Laughing and mocking The relentlessness is life altering Landing a career ending swing Not declaring but taking it personal And I think I just realized I'll have nothing to show No, That's impossible Win or lose I present as a broken man not worth repairing And hey, That's still something ©2024
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Feb 20, 2024
Feb 20, 2024 at 9:30 PM UTC
~•§•~ It's Not Nothing ~•§•~
Recently I've noticed These easternly winds are blowin' 'N there ain't no use in holdin' On no more... so let it go 'n find that stoic piece of me   that finds peace in knowin' The lowest poet on the totem   breeds off these heroics The feast depends upon these moments However brief at least I know   the beast in me won't go unnoticed But until then... I guess it's famine Rid my life of glitz 'n glam 'N all the hype that never happens Get it right... the somber dampening Of moods begins to shift gears... So lift beers And give cheers To the silence of the evening Blinding sirens creeping Up the mile-high long ceilings But liven up I've said too much Instead I'll lie here bleeding... Alive and well, Well, time will tell I'll swell abrupt I'm feeding... Off all the wrongs That made me right This song...pause...(breathing) Then proceeding, to the next verse No chorus, just repeating Of course there's an elephant in the room... and it's stampeding A forceful tug of it's tusk to adjust Its just a subtle shoulder shrug Avoidance of annoyances A poignant bliss so effortless..ly crafted   off relentlessness Overtired, restlessness Just exists The antithesis... is this the best it gets? so rest assured that lessons learned from this existential messenger may be best left unheard
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
(DAD) Dinosaur Astronaut Doctor
Stuck I'm stuck with no way out No matter how hard I try It's all in vain . I'm stuck in this endless cycle of pain Hope for more. Settle For Less. No ,expect nothing. These screams have to be worth something The Sweat, Tears , Time I sacrificed trying HAD TO BE WORTH SOMETHING. Where is my win Why am I stuck at a forever dead end . Countless attempts to pull myself up after I've been drowning in sea of failure for far too long Desperately Crawling with every bit of me Fingers Submerged In The Dirt of my own Relentlessness I refuse to give in. ,
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Apr 29, 2023
Apr 29, 2023 at 8:42 PM UTC
Stubborn Realization.
Lust, pain, depression, lose and love are my muse. lust's passion which knows no bounds frees me. pain's intensity and relentlessness push me. Depression's depth, which out class even the sea, teaches me. Lose like a loaded gun keeps focus and flashes what is important to me. love with its fickle sway like a new flame ignites my page for all the world to see. My muse are not new they are not uncommon they are rusted and jagged but they are the pillars on which all life and poetry now rests they guide us- No they control us.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC
Muse
My attachment to you is inexplicable. Unknowable. The box with which Pandora could not resist. The way I slowly crept my way upon your rugged columns, and wrapped myself around your curves like a summer ballad.   Please don't hate me for this. Yes, your outer exterior appears shrouded by my veiny, dexterous figure, but what I cover, is why, as well. We are one now, The two of us, and so, when you hurt, so shall I When you cry in anguish from the relentlessness of the night winds, I shall sway with you, never relinquishing my claim. Sleep now. You have been standing alone much too long. Rest now. So that the birds may rest upon our ***** And we shall never know loneliness again.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Vines
Doe eyed, she looks up and asks, "Will you carry me?" Halving the rhythm of footfalls. Honesty in his action hitting the first notes of a lasting song, holding fulfillment and fear in the form of a little girl in arms. Loyal through the swells- music and storm, teaching things that he had no business knowing while conquering things that had no business attacking him. When the fork in the path read that he must decide between Rest and Moving On he quietly comforted his aching heart and limped further, Apologizing all the while to the ***** faced child. Her arms around his neck choking him, warmly. Finding peace in their relentlessness, certain that would carry her when he no longer could, taken with the idea that death was the needed break he awaited.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
Holding Fast
Run red scarlet, run far from it. Go a distance wise and far, get out of here, Save who you are. Burst into the abyss of the black burning nightfall. Delirious I am with the stars leading my scarlet into the mystery of the dark relentlessness dusk. Soon she will remorse with self-indulgence to erase the pain that I have caused so greatly. Her exterior is clear, a disguise.  No more S S. M E I  L No more knowing the warmth of attention. Her interior is hollow, Within her nothing lies. There is no room for second- thought, no memory. Soon I will have forgot. My hands and mind begin to numb, undergoing the extremely earnest burning pleasure of hope, I know this feeling. In my gut It's just another effort, I am just another endeavor. Every sensation,    just a tingle to my skin, the chills swarm down my spine as I quiver again. Plush and soft are your lips against mine, sick and remorseful is your leave, please flee my scarlet, run away from me. Run red scarlet.
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
Run Red Scarlet.
Five Days A soul so pure and new leaves every passing second wishing to be with you five days with steadiness I cure the heavens with relentlessness Turn the clock dials back and open your arms forget time and entwine around my affection why must the stars be so cruel to give then take away you
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May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
Five days
Hands. ***** and brown they reach up From the mud. Opening their hands, Releasing butterflies of death From their clutches. The grass, Is still green. The trees, are still alive. Where life is around me it is also In the hands where it shouldn't. They grasp ankles and drag them down. Some, fall easy. Some not so. They turn the beautiful skin Into deep brown **** muddied Brown, thick with biomasses of ******* maggots and soil and pebbles. The sunrise is gorgeous. It slips into your eyes and enlightens Your vision with dazzling colours. The world is alive. Everything is wonderful. But the hands are relentlessness.   It's all so pristine, Even as the mud Encases your nose, and Cakes your eyes.
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Hands
I longed to die --    to simply cease -- he showed no mercy with savage restraint. He talked of never being    forgiven... all sanity gone -- time hangs heavy in the hidden places of the exiles, in the cold, morbid relentlessness of an unforgiving night.
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Jun 27, 2011
Jun 27, 2011 at 9:37 AM UTC
No Mercy