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"resonating" poems
the Silence became like an old lesson learned a broken heart intones a voiceless song resonating a refrain of Silent echoes in a voice that never heard a word yet spoke so clearly ... lingering in realms of subtle ambiance soundless remnants stacked neatly as building blocks;   another brick in a wall, already too tall to see beyond— growing like a bunker without a sense of safe harbor as the Silence became time and space, a stillness beset the melancholy air as if a world without song foreboding an unpredictable storm beget vestiges of broken windfall, reticent leftovers hushed after a gale s i l e n t l y an acorn fallen  — became a mighty Oak a wind-broke twig — became a weeping willow a neglected child — became mother nature's son the Silence became         a blind prophet — in its voice held forth smatterings of truth and undertones of an unrequited fool’s hope the Silence became a strong, abrupt rush of wind uttering voiceless exhalations of breath; a hovering dawn mist     befallen after a summer storm— surrounding all in all bedewed in a feigned peace ... the unabated sounds of silence become Jesse Stillwater ... July 20th, 2018
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
the Silence became
Starlight wings white as snow, Illuminating the night sky. Will you take me? Can I reach you? The resonating sound of love, Sends ripples through the ocean of my heart. Once an endless abyss, Now harbors summery waters. Your words imbued with sunlight, Drive away the most torturous thoughts. As the notes of your dulcet voice, Echo through the airways. The rhythmic beat of your heart, Like the ticking of a clock. I hear it. I feel it. I need it. Oh, bearer of radiant wings; I continue to climb higher; Continue to work harder, Continue to stand taller. I will fly with you; I will reach you; And I will touch you; As you have touched me.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Wings
if ever you don’t feel like you have a home, pull me close, wrap your arms around me, rest your head on my chest, close your eyes, and feel the warmth of the fireplace resonating from within my heart.
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
fireplace
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago, ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories, but not histrionics fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished, powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a, age and yet renews as of, at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom they even  now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of If not now, When? Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg: Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered, now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more, the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the outrageous misfortune of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** **** these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago   freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity. Enough whining: *I wrote those poems to eject out those pains, and I write this now, once more, to realize that so so many still face uncertain and unrelenting similarities, doing their own sums, and I wish them easing, strength to compose and thereby dispose of the ineloquent and eloquent words of staining suffering* 3:30am Thur July 10 2025
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Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 5:39 PM UTC
Older poems, new readers, familiar thoughts...
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago, ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories, but not histrionics fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished, powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a, age and yet renews as of, at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom they even  now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of If not now, When? Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg: Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered, now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more, the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the outrageous misfortune of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** **** these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago   freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity. Enough whining: *I wrote those poems to eject out those pains, and I write this now, once more, to realize that so so many still face uncertain and unrelenting similarities, doing their own sums, and I wish them easing, strength to compose and thereby dispose of the ineloquent and eloquent words of staining suffering* 3:30am Thur July 10 2025
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40
Reconstituting globalization to re-imagine democracy. By throwing out scale we the economizers are forced to turn into misers and the satisfisers might rid themselves of their pacifiers. It's all about story and consuming someone else's turns you into an actor, an automaton. Was it prescribed? Were you imbibed? Then you are impaled on an un-truth and living out a script that is not your own. Time to get ruthless and cut those strings that lead us to, plead us to buy, buy, buy (and cry, cry, cry). Of course, we might find a guru to lead us to promises of promised lands but this ain't the way to Yahweh Unlock the path that lies within. I'm talking 'bout multi-spectrum bridges resonating in frequencies that ring true for you: this is the story of Power Geometry re-constituted
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Power Geometry
This rainy night, Heavens will fall. Divine light, extinguished under the Thy raven wing. This rainy night Gabriel's trumpet went silent. People pray for their salvation. God doesn't hear dead man but He sure answer them. This rainy night, wind drift through deserted land, resonating sound of the emptiness and death. Blood is washed from the thorn crown, existence is meaningless without punishment by Lord's hands. This rainy night, shadows will crawl from the deep underground. Humankind is devoured by eternal fire. People produce heat only when you burn them. This rainy night,nothing matters. His black wings will fly again over the sky. leaving nothing more than darkness and silence.
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Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:41 PM UTC
Dream of the Unholy
I heard a howling in the woods, freezing me right where I stood. That sound: it turned my blood to ice I knew he'd hunt me this full moon night. Great, big footsteps pounding near; Their deadly echo resonating with fear. His heavy breathing reeked of blood and thirst. I knew right then, I was in for the worst. I clutched my throat in desperate need of oxygen so I could breathe. Unluckily I began to faint. Knowing, once black, I'd never wake. And just as my eyes began to close I saw his wet, sniffing nose. I felt his snarling teeth biting deep inside of me. Then I knew that I was done. I had lost and he had won.
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Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Werewolf
Room 1648 Opening my eyes to The streaming sun light Stretching my body In the heat of the day To the sound of the sea Seeing How lucky I am From the 16th floor Looking out at Sweeping palm trees Stretch of South Beach Echoes of beach life Resonating all around me Feeling the freedom of happiness Of peacefulness Finally Down at the beach Sand between my toes The rolling waves washing Over me The taste of salt on my lips The wind in my face I lose myself in the expanse of ocean Glistening under intense sunshine Your depth of care eventually saving my life Binding us together as husband and wife Feeling the freedom of happiness Of peacefulness Finally
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:34 AM UTC
Room 1648
Copulation of the minds... as word play leads innuendos to fornicate upon the poets tongue... unrestrained his fingers give voice to wanton carnal desires laying the reader bare to writhe helplessly beneath his hands with ink stained kisses he forces words into their mouths a breathless sigh resonating his ache to be heard as he stands naked before them offering himself to their voyeuristic gaze before taking them upon the sheets in punctuated passionate embraces leading them toward the ****** they so cried out for... Jesus I'm Good. ~<3~
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Pronoun(ced) ***********
I wear a double sided mask so that I appear as desired an yet I feel this feelings with wich I cannot relate because the mask is double sided and it doesn't match so I turn the volume louder than my thoughts no sleep no more and escape without end these worlds, these people they are better than this than me STOPSTOPSTOP these thoughts I scream internally why can't I be like the mask? the double sided mask it is better than this than me up the volume goes again the base resonating in my ears drowning the thoughts numbing the feels trimming the sleep charging the escape escape escape is all I know in the end the volume grew the thoughts the thoughts of violence to myself to my surroundings mentally torturing myself and killing my sleep my sanity my grades grades do I care anymore? yes says the mask the double sided mask no says the voice the dark voice in the back of my head and i I don't know not anything not a single thing I I want to be myself but who is this self I ask as I look trough the mask the doublde sided mask to the wall the wall i've built the mask is uncomfortable i've outgrown the mask the double sided mask once, the mask was my face and my face was the mask but my face started changing while the mask kept staying someday i'd  outgrow the mask that day is long gone but the mask the double sided mask the mask is familiar the mask is consistent the mask is desirable but my face? I ask the mask facing me no lies the mask the double sided mask I know it's true why else would I wear the mask?
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Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
Double sided mask
I wear a double sided mask so that I appear as desired an yet I feel this feelings with wich I cannot relate because the mask is double sided and it doesn't match so I turn the volume louder than my thoughts no sleep no more and escape without end these worlds, these people they are better than this than me STOPSTOPSTOP these thoughts I scream internally why can't I be like the mask? the double sided mask it is better than this than me up the volume goes again the base resonating in my ears drowning the thoughts numbing the feels trimming the sleep charging the escape escape escape is all I know in the end the volume grew the thoughts the thoughts of violence to myself to my surroundings mentally torturing myself and killing my sleep my sanity my grades grades do I care anymore? yes says the mask the double sided mask no says the voice the dark voice in the back of my head and i I don't know not anything not a single thing I I want to be myself but who is this self I ask as I look trough the mask the doublde sided mask to the wall the wall i've built the mask is uncomfortable i've outgrown the mask the double sided mask once, the mask was my face and my face was the mask but my face started changing while the mask kept staying someday i'd  outgrow the mask that day is long gone but the mask the double sided mask the mask is familiar the mask is consistent the mask is desirable but my face? I ask the mask facing me no lies the mask the double sided mask I know it's true why else would I wear the mask?
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80
there is no value in a poem that reads ____________________ ____________________ ____________________ M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t just nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft seek the intelligent intelligible, kiss the sensational thrill that emotion harvests with resonating tenses that beg our brains to differ, sense this claims, there is no value in no words is a hoax cloaked as art by the weak, make thy metaphors metastasize, my every cell, a preposition, preposterous and precious and comforting in their privations and provocations speak to us in alpha and line our eyes wide, with pictures at an exhibition of a faun immobile and beauteous let me hang on every word of yours and let it be the raft that sees me happily unsafe home take your bs line poem   shove it down your silent voice this is not avant garde; this is insulting p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_______________.
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Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
**** the BS: this craft is the raft we hang onto
I went to church today I don't know what I was trying to find Hopes? Dreams? A figure to follow and some worthy morals? I wanted advice, I wanted to feel alive I left there with these words resonating in my head "Homosexuality and suicide are abominable" a short phrase that sums the fancy and elaborated speech of the preacher Only the sinful suffer, and I guess that's why I am troubled. I've thought of suicide jokingly and seductively more times that I could possibly count I have kissed girls and I am openly attracted to them I am not afraid of saying it and with respect, showing it. According to the bible; Lesbians and gays was a punishment for not obeying God Suicide is a way of controlling your faith And the only one that has power over you is the Lord. God gives you what he thinks you deserve He knows you since before you where born and because of that he is more responsible of yourself than yourself itself. Your brains are too small how dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts? He created all and everything, all and nothing He knows what he is doing, and in no way you can try to question him I felt more small and insignificant than ever, How did a invisible figure matter more than my logical arguments? Can't I decide what I want? Isn't it my body and my emotions the one in play? There's other 8 billion people and you try to guilt trip me because I want to end it all? Sinners will suffer only the prayer can save you, you can't save yourself, God will save you. Isn't it better to try to put myself together? Wouldn't I be learning more with that experience? Instead of repeating words of prayers, shouldn't It try to save myself or solve the problems? How dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts! If God chooses to give you what he believes is right Then why am I the one in so much pain? Why good things doesn't happen to good people and to the bad ones bad things? Is it because the bad ones will always pray? I went to church today I tried to find support, I wanted to confess "Hey, I want to **** myself" I thought that well... If so many people could feel happy by worshiping I didn't loose anything by trying I instead ended up gaining: guilt, trouble, and a feeling that I will burn in hell
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
I went to church today
I went to church today I don't know what I was trying to find Hopes? Dreams? A figure to follow and some worthy morals? I wanted advice, I wanted to feel alive I left there with these words resonating in my head "Homosexuality and suicide are abominable" a short phrase that sums the fancy and elaborated speech of the preacher Only the sinful suffer, and I guess that's why I am troubled. I've thought of suicide jokingly and seductively more times that I could possibly count I have kissed girls and I am openly attracted to them I am not afraid of saying it and with respect, showing it. According to the bible; Lesbians and gays was a punishment for not obeying God Suicide is a way of controlling your faith And the only one that has power over you is the Lord. God gives you what he thinks you deserve He knows you since before you where born and because of that he is more responsible of yourself than yourself itself. Your brains are too small how dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts? He created all and everything, all and nothing He knows what he is doing, and in no way you can try to question him I felt more small and insignificant than ever, How did a invisible figure matter more than my logical arguments? Can't I decide what I want? Isn't it my body and my emotions the one in play? There's other 8 billion people and you try to guilt trip me because I want to end it all? Sinners will suffer only the prayer can save you, you can't save yourself, God will save you. Isn't it better to try to put myself together? Wouldn't I be learning more with that experience? Instead of repeating words of prayers, shouldn't It try to save myself or solve the problems? How dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts! If God chooses to give you what he believes is right Then why am I the one in so much pain? Why good things doesn't happen to good people and to the bad ones bad things? Is it because the bad ones will always pray? I went to church today I tried to find support, I wanted to confess "Hey, I want to **** myself" I thought that well... If so many people could feel happy by worshiping I didn't loose anything by trying I instead ended up gaining: guilt, trouble, and a feeling that I will burn in hell
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44
I am your platter Of sterling silver Serving up a pig Of visible bones Naked and dying Suffocating on A poisoned apple A poisoned gag-ball Regurgitating Salivary screams And my heart is set In loveless resin Resonating love But never beating Again until you Peel away my chest Peel away my heart And **** out the love Through your proboscis Until I am just Gag-ball, resin, bone
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Buried
AFFIRMATIONS, AFFIRMATIONS, AFFIRMATIONS; JOYFUL, POSITIVE AND FILLED WITH CONVICTIONS EMANATING SWEET AND MELODIC FREQUENCIES RESONATING WITH DNA AND TRANSFORMED INTO COMPLETION. AFFIRMATIONS, AFFIRMATIONS, AFFIRMATIONS SPOKEN INNOCENTLY AND BOLDLY AS A CHILD WOULD; EXPRESSING HIS BEAUTIFUL IMAGINATION WHETHER WE USE PRAYER, CHANTING OR MEDITATION AFFIRMATIONS ARE THE KEYS TO OUR EVOLUTION.
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Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 6:00 PM UTC
BACK TO THE BOARD
I'm damaged like bruised apples, or broken glass and sometimes it feels like my scars bring me down a class I am tiny pieces held together with pieces of tape and this is all a mask I wear so you can't see my real face Can you be the glue to hold my pieces together can you be my ship to sail through any weather I am an addict without their helpful crutch 'cause I've never needed anything like I need the feel of your touch I am just a child who still wonders where her daddy was I know he didn't want me then just wanted to be lost in his buzz Can you be the glue to hold my pieces together can you be the one I can count on for forever I am hollow like the tree left empty by the birds I feel nothing but vacant just resonating your words these damaged goods are second hand at best they fall short of perfect to be left behind with the rest I am wounded like death soaked, ****** animal fur like the one who will never belong anywhere even her family won't ever want her Can you be my glue to hold my pieces together Can you be my ship to sail through any weather? Can you be the one I can count for ever? Can you promise me that you won't leave, ever? can you fix the damages here?
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 11:56 PM UTC
damaged goods
Truth bares the deepest recesses of her concealed modesties. Can you feel the resonating equilibrium of tantric sound as we connect across humanitarian divides? Tears fill my eyes, as I bask in the presence of such elevated humility. I am grateful for the wisdom of simplicity, as opposed to what may be deemed to be stupidity. Let us join hands around this circle of cultic agreement.
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Pornographic Acknowledgement
*Hungered for a taste   of your elixir's essence, drunken inhalations    of your poetry a splendiferous whirl  of time & space 'tween darkly scented moons     and sun's adoration, blithe starry nights amidst meditative new dawn's effervesce,  spirited of the heart, gleaned in the soul, yearnings of another   chapter's paradise universal experiences etched of hourglass sand,  written upon endlessly     chimerical verses wildflower gardens drenched     of dandelion's plum wine swooning under a hypnotic scripted spell, intoxicating power of unchained symphonies dancing amongst skies' released euphoria  resonating in a song's    reprised melodies, breathlessness of delirium's   celestial pauses   in vaporous breezes'   unfurling undulation, captivated by rhythmic   destiny reverberating in      loins' pleasurable calling   quenched of sacred      offering's quell transcending earthly    persuasions' rhyme, let me lick the nectar from    your  poesy's  insatiable  lips, sweet mercy's healing    captured in rapturous    surrender's reawakening ~* *Je veux que vous tous, tu me manques* Ce que vous manquez de moi?
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
Je te veux (sensual)
*A father's love... whether throughout times of sorrow, or times of glory, is all but shallow.* A father's love is a thunderstorm, rumbling through a once peaceful sleep, finding my awakened soul as company. On the back porch, we seek credence, as we share stories, and simple silence. A father's love is a music tune, carried from good intentions, deep in the lungs. Becoming bellowing blues from a harmonica. A father's love is rolling mountains, as endless as eyes can see, resonating with nature's peace. Where he finds sacred hollows, and gains perspective on his woes. A father's love is a blissful brew, aromatic, donning a frothy cover, incredibly complex underneath. It is a multifaceted flavor, sweet, bitter, delicate, of earth. A father's love is in the now. It is there when the water is muddy; it is there when the mud has settled, and the water is clear. It has nothing but patience. *A father's love... whether throughout times of sorrow, or times of glory, is all but shallow.*
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Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
A Father's Love
Sitting solid on a thinking throne Drinking bottles that sing melancholy tones Singing lone, resonating to your bones Your fragile little frame cannot save the show Not when you're casting skys clouding with crows Your mind is pale, sick to it's stomach Everything up there can't reconcile, but luck It's begun to resonate quietly like a comets tail When your playing on mental jungle gyms of shale I'm sure there's things that keep you up Drugs, and alcohol, and fasting all day A cyclical belt of asteroid tales You think so much you've burnt an image Of cotton dreams, so soft and harsh, but somehow sail You may never grasp them, but you've reached so far you've become so frail It's hard to try, it's even harder to pry Open your heart, and let yourself cry The castles you build are built of tears, and the cemetery near is calling your fears The foundation is weak, and your pastor you seek, but everything you've found thus far, oblique Cast your shadows as you will, but they're just funny puppets you've conjured in the night still
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
A Quiet Comet
home is where I hear your footsteps rattling the foot boards, resonating at the same frequency of my heart's undulating palpitations. home is where I feel your haunting presence persistently passing through these crumbled walls of mine. home is where I see you in the mirror every time I look for me. home is where you twist, turn and shake up the whole **** house. home is wherever you are, no matter how far.
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 5:10 AM UTC
Personification of Home.
Shattered glass upon the ground I walk With Shards in my bare feet And skin dry and brittle like chalk Bathing in my own field of wheat I am the bread basket of my own produce The life of my own breath And the electrician to my own fuse That cuts the energy from the world's **** So my dear friend won't you look And see that I am I I write my own bound book With letters of my soul's cry You are the upholder to your own home The columns to a distinct bridge Don't take me from my kingdom To lead me to the devil's ledge I ask of you to sing your song not mine And allow me to write my melody Of the oceans whispers upon the pine That speaks my spirit not this felony Oh how I wish I believed these words But they tell the lie of a longing heart That's pierced by frozen swords I want to help you love, hold your part I want to be your eternal pillar And live as one in unison Resonating the music of our laughter Please take me as your woman
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 2:21 PM UTC
A Woman
She's tapped into another realm Sitting on top of the world Resonating the astral plane At least in my mind She's above me So divine A crown wrapped in flowers and gold Diamonds in the sky Cut through the noise and crack down to shatter the Earth Looking pretty amongst the chaos She catches my eyes to bring the temptation of the Goddess Always within reach but afraid to touch to release Let go of everything This is where our souls intertwined The tango of our 9-5 Looking forward to breaks in reality Our survival mechanisms From the bottom to top Where her crown connects realms of telepathic foreplay A mindfuck of sorts Black and blue balled by the true cowardliness of reality.
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Telepathic Foreplay
****** Escapades & Moonlight Serenades, The Crystal Apparitions In Her Sanctified Masquerade, Paper Trails Breathing Under Water, Out From The Ember, Her Seductions Conquer, Silhouettes Of Her Castle Clouds, Injecting Primal Instincts Out Loud, Eleven Summers In Her Pseudo Emotive Desires, Holographic Afterlights & Freezing Fires. Twilight Light Bulbs Under The Liquid Nights, ****** Openings Of Her Sensory Delights, Unfettered Mythomania & Kaleidoscopic Highs. ****** Verses Scattering Light. Divine Impulses & Rainbow Divinity, Spellbound Chaos In Her Dilated Virginity, Intimate Enigmas Veiled In Shades Of Insanity, Makeshift Empathy Resonating Sympathy, Animated Specters Reflecting Crimson Streams, Oceans Tides Pulsating In Her Silent Screams, Static Reveries Of Her Cryptic Demise, Textured Amplifications Emanating Chronic Lies. - 03:04AM -*
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 5:40 PM UTC
****** Escapades & Moonlight Serenades