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"sobering" poems
Like a hearth, Her hair was inviting And warm, red mahogany Her deceptive eyes Sensing danger Betrayed only by her quivering crimson lips Back against the wall Separated by arm’s length Sobering distance Maddening silence She, reticent siren Far from the ocean Far, far greater than its depth She, from the wild A wolf’s howl Far from the forest Far, far greener than its leaves She was shelter, In the mountain I found myself lost
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
She, like a hearth
Enchanted by spring’s rustling whispers      ... whistles swirl in the pungent springtime breeze; steeped with a bedazzling         cadence    heart dancing to a hummingbird’s          whirs    waves of breath, of little wings waft, whooshing throughout twining honeysuckle lattice        a tiny manger beset of hidden gold precious speckled eggs,  silver lining of smallest hopes    fruits of fruition    continuum beheld prize, concealed in interwoven rootlets;     potently perfumed flowers        while away the waning dark hours; swollen full flower moon            waxing yellow,..          heavenly fragrance sweetly-scented suckled nectar    the one with eyes of a child,    wonder ― hidden inside,      marvel in the light of grateful eyes imbibing an unholdable moment's     spellbinding elixir      ... poetry alive air  so poignantly perfumed        with blossom         moonstruck by spring’s frolicking cadency a reverent moment's edifying intoxication        a sobering beauty that just is... someone ... May 2017
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
How sweet the honeysuckle lattice
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this' It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby' But what happened next forever will drive me crazy Next thing you know I was spinning in my head Then he wanted to bring me to a bed His friends walked in and wanted more So they all called me a ***** little ***** My body was numb and I couldn’t move I let out a scream but they didn’t approve Everything went black but then again I woke But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke They locked me inside of a walk in closet So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it I blacked out again and woke in a different place Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case Still I was unable to move nor speak But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning One was even playfully groaning I was disgusted and wanted it to end But I knew that after this my mind would never mend By now it would have been a little past three in the morning Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning When they realized I was sobering up They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup When I could finally move my mouth again I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid bitch' I hit my head when they threw me on the ground I only saw black in front of me and around I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed' What happened after that is irrelevant at best All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed This is my story and it happened two years ago today Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey I know now that I hold so much more worth And I love myself more than anything on this Earth Just know that these words have come straight from my heart No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art. h.m.w
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 5:57 PM UTC
Happy Little Pill.
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this' It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby' But what happened next forever will drive me crazy Next thing you know I was spinning in my head Then he wanted to bring me to a bed His friends walked in and wanted more So they all called me a ***** little ***** My body was numb and I couldn’t move I let out a scream but they didn’t approve Everything went black but then again I woke But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke They locked me inside of a walk in closet So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it I blacked out again and woke in a different place Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case Still I was unable to move nor speak But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning One was even playfully groaning I was disgusted and wanted it to end But I knew that after this my mind would never mend By now it would have been a little past three in the morning Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning When they realized I was sobering up They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup When I could finally move my mouth again I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid bitch' I hit my head when they threw me on the ground I only saw black in front of me and around I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed' What happened after that is irrelevant at best All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed This is my story and it happened two years ago today Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey I know now that I hold so much more worth And I love myself more than anything on this Earth Just know that these words have come straight from my heart No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art. h.m.w
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46
#*A thrown flat stone skipped across the snowcapped reflection breaking the mirror glass surface; rippling the glaring still waters the way a trailing piano note slowly decays to a sobering hush A gentle puff of silence segued into a fading whisper's echo* Jesse
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Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
A thrown stone on still waters
I need rehab from you, and I’m sorry but this isn’t healthy. Admitting being a problem is sobering And I hope you can recover from my withdrawal. I’ll be busy detoxing myself, For everyone after you. But mostly for myself. I hope you remember how great you are!! As I try to forget all the poison you gave me I'll be cheering you on from a far!! & revising the scripts I tell myself So that one day I'll stop playing the role You put me in And I'll start living For myself again
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 12:04 AM UTC
Refuse to be Used
*Though, should I or have I begun?* To feel the tussling Of blurring bodies. Transforming and dancing, Through these very halls. Where aching is thick, and a embrace is a release. *Should I begin? How should I begin?* Swallow the dagger, stabbing from behind. Let it sit deep in my stomach. Push it further, where it can’t cut. *Where will it end? How will I begin?* Under lock and key, Just where I left it . It escapes as it did just now, conjuring a puncture to bone. Blood flows, Rushes out into the world. *Is this a release? How can I heal?* Pouring out, It tastes salty on the cheek The color is dark, cold to the touch. Purging the night, that stained blood black. Sifting the chill, of steel from bone. Ringing out whats left of gore and fluid, down the drain. *I can begin now. This is the end.*
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Sobering Melancholy
Stuck in a ***** two-room apartment almost out of cigarettes , at one in the middle of a sweaty Chennai night, sobering up after two days, famished and restless dreaming of mid-night cigarette shops that never were, dreaming of alcohol (just enough to pass out), checking and rechecking the spent bottles and giving up in the end and settling to tolerate a night with myself, walking and babbling and writing and thinking and floating up on a great idea and circling back to the floor looking for cigarettes, just waiting for the shutters to lift, just waiting for this to end, just waiting. It was the best metaphor for life that I've ever known.
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
Waiting
Maybe it's been written somewhere in the constitution      of the waning moon                                          ― When somebody loves you,                                                you can never be lonely ― But, appearances   to the contrary, the moon is sometimes blue; ***counting stars alone in a sky full of stars*** is just about as lonely as 'once in a blue moon'                               can be ― Like when the night is yours alone                   or feeling alone                in a crowded room hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence        "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"                                          ― When it's hard to say                                                you love someone,..                                                but it's harder to say                                                when you don't ―                 • • • A coyote's pleading howl breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance cast by the dappled moonlight; like there's some kind of lonely madness     swallowing him whole,..                      as     these two hollow eyes                  gaze out through                                      the chilly,                                             sobering                                                  refreshed                                                    Autumn air                                                                  spilling                                                                   in through                                                             the open window,                                                                    ***counting stars ― alone                                                                         in a sky full of stars***                                                                     the crackle of the fireplace                                                                    echoes, startling the silence                                                                          of a feigned warmth                                                                           from the other side                                                                  of an otherwise hollow room and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose the impending dark winter nights are lonesome             and  linger longer than before ...    seeing the empty space beside me    I remember how it really really aches to just be ...                                                             ***lonesome as a blue moon ― ***                    ✩                        ✩                                                         ✩                                       ✩                            ✩                                                                ✩                                                                                                            moonless ― rivers ... 2017
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Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 7:21 PM UTC
Lonesome as a Blue Moon ☽
Maybe it's been written somewhere in the constitution      of the waning moon                                          ― When somebody loves you,                                                you can never be lonely ― But, appearances   to the contrary, the moon is sometimes blue; ***counting stars alone in a sky full of stars*** is just about as lonely as 'once in a blue moon'                               can be ― Like when the night is yours alone                   or feeling alone                in a crowded room hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence        "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"                                          ― When it's hard to say                                                you love someone,..                                                but it's harder to say                                                when you don't ―                 • • • A coyote's pleading howl breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance cast by the dappled moonlight; like there's some kind of lonely madness     swallowing him whole,..                      as     these two hollow eyes                  gaze out through                                      the chilly,                                             sobering                                                  refreshed                                                    Autumn air                                                                  spilling                                                                   in through                                                             the open window,                                                                    ***counting stars ― alone                                                                         in a sky full of stars***                                                                     the crackle of the fireplace                                                                    echoes, startling the silence                                                                          of a feigned warmth                                                                           from the other side                                                                  of an otherwise hollow room and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose the impending dark winter nights are lonesome             and  linger longer than before ...    seeing the empty space beside me    I remember how it really really aches to just be ...                                                             ***lonesome as a blue moon ― ***                    ✩                        ✩                                                         ✩                                       ✩                            ✩                                                                ✩                                                                                                            moonless ― rivers ... 2017
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56
The shaking stops, numbness ensues Restless nights take hold Suppressed negativity rushes to me Like a title wave of unwanted emotion When will it stop............? When will it stop.............? Dawn breaks over the city The temptation to reach for the bottle... ever growing Shaking continues But this time with rage Sweat drips from my brow Drink.......... Drink.......... Drink.......... The voices start chiming in my mind Diving under cover the bottles clink... clink....... clink....... Empty bottles surround me Just a drop to relieve my pain I can't bare this a second longer The 4 walls of this room, my own person hell Click! The electric meter cuts off Change is hard to come bye Just empty bottles Rage flows through me Smashing up the room I leave Walk that'll help People though People looking People everywhere Eyes in every window Looking.... judging The agony of the sober anxiety, taking hold consuming my mind Card rejected a new low I find change for bread Managed to pay Sweating uncontrollably I can see the apartment block My head clears Stumbling into the darkness I look around the room The sobering realisation I have nothing, no one but these empty bottles
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Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
Sober
My conscience is loud yet my voice never comes, It's disarming what dependency can do, altering your character, until you are simply a character, weaving falsities into strands of fools gold, until you're living in an armor of the emperors new clothes. I swore to myself, that I would never again be this person, the one with my finger on the self destruct button, but sliding down the hill comes much easier than climbing. And at the bottom, numbness awaits me, making me fearless. I feel the cold wash over me, goosebumps all throughout my being, as the waves begin to rise.   She covers me, salty yet sweet, and everything makes sense. The meaning of life in a pretty peach casing. I am Invincible. I am Oblivious. She peaks and soon crashes, repeatedly against me, making me feel like the world could end and I wouldn't even think to care. But what at first seemed exhilarating, wears on me to no end, the buildup and constant let down. She's lost her novelty, and with that, the numbness fades. Sobering up for long enough to realize, I am the definition of insanity. Inviting you back in so often, I no longer have defenses against you. You snuck into my priorities without me ever noticing. Like that song you hate so much but can't help to sing. Will I ever get rid of your tune in my head? Will I ever be able to say no when you call?
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 8:51 AM UTC
fools gold
May 23rd, 2019 I first felt the ferrous fissures Delivering shivering quivers Down my spine As each chime took the sight Outside our present days Then the shakes grew into tension My naked, sobering suspension Was left never to mention Nor whisper what I needed to say And when I asked you of this You withdrew so quick I only had time to trace the lines Of your last escaping shadow Holding on to tentative strings And all the small things You left for me to find The same gray forests of signs And plaintive silent ways Designs you used to craft And convey with clever ease Laughter once beseeching my thoughts Silence now haunting my dreams These memories are now Presently looming Cold coniferous trees It's not as if I can pretend Like simply taking paper and pen Could possibly remedy this While I have to look down At the ink staining my foot Ankle and wrist I'm convinced that I created this fate Because in this picture frame I'm the only one who made a mistake *You carry the hate in your heart like it's been privileged to you* *My misgivings have adopted the persona that I imbue* *I faced the other way as we faded when you withdrew* *You suffered daily and faced this struggle alone* *Claiming everybody abandoned you and did you wrong* *-But you don't lose me Like I've told you all along* RE: August 23rd, 2021: - but now you've lost Me with the same old song
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May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 2:20 AM UTC
Picture frame
# This depressive choreography                                      of flames                                      f     i      k     r     n                                          l    c      e     i     g consumed in the geography                                  of bodies                                  b   i   c   k   e   r   i   n   g                                Tongue's embers  licking                     the innocent cheek words like poniards                      P   R   I   C   K   I   N   G leaving this dance at its                                                           pique Now left  a  s m o u l d e r i n g              soloist on the stage                             a dance so sobering                                      watch this fire's rampage burn his own pyre               I gave into the rage burn his own desire              another illegible page tossed to fuel the bellowing fire               the end of our golden age #
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:52 AM UTC
The Choreography of Flames
the same place i used to play with my toy trains i get drunk alone at 230 in the morning thats a sobering thought
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Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
thomas the tank
Under the mantle of this world The thickness of the storm clouds Perpetual, thorough Meeting the foam crest of the waves Dark enough to hide intentions Walking along the tired rocky shore A stretch common, tasteless to all but the vaguest sense Some spray, felt deep along the sides of the tongue The sobering corpse, I found Still clawing at the stones I can feel the tears well in my eyes There is nothing I can do Empathetic thoughts blow through my mind Cold strains of tainted breath His voice is cold air, so dissimilar And with every trace of dogma Such overused platitudes Yet I hold fast to that stringent emotion He knows me He knows what I used to be, and what brought me to who I am I watch him He tries to pry, bone exposed at the fingertips Why did this come to me Remorse Filled with pity, I bend down I comfort him The host burst And now I feel it Moving though the back of my skull It's tendrils become rooted The eyes see though my own And it swallows what It will The desperate remains inside me scream at it But it's just rotten flesh And there's nothing left for me Now and forever
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Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
Haunted
thinking in quiet at the end of a busy day about what you have actually done can yield sobering results
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Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 7:10 PM UTC
thinking
At night my arms become yours Not so much in a physical way More in a viral way You force me to push my pillow over my head Like a helmet Preparing for battle You know my dreams could **** me We battle on threw miles of dream Years go by Life times are spent Loving and hating Whispering and screaming Planing our escape Then I awaken Pull my helmet off And realize that you are somewhere els Dreaming too It is a saddening thought But a sobering one as well As I regain full control of my arms I think to myself Did people sleep on there sides before pillows?
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
Pillow helmet
I'm not addicted to the substance I don't really care about the high or the low I'm addicted to the morning after I'm addicted to being able to tell you exactly how I feel and to take it all away the next day I'm addicted to "I'm sorry, I was so ****** up." I'm addicted to "It's okay." Because I'll never be enough. I'm addicted to the aftertaste of our drunken kiss I'm addicted to forgetting how you pushed me from your lips I don't care for lightheaded feelings I get enough from you I don't need the acid rising up but you hold me when I do I don't need the ****** parties The kids all passed out on the floor I'm addicted to sobering up I'm addicted to needing you more.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Addict.
The coffee *** just signalled, Ready, So I pour the cream before the java: A cup of divergent thinking. There are roads running In opposite directions, Sharing points of similarity: A tree, a sign, me. Inside or outside the box of thinking, Using the lower and upper ladder rungs To paint the same wall, Prologues and epilogues to the same story, Lawyers in clown suits, Children using, Kittens chewing slippers, Dogs in litter boxes, Earth cooling, Healing and feeding the masses, Elected monarchies... NO monarchies, Sleeping in or getting up, Cursory letter to family and friends (Though this is coming to an end), Making love while wearing gloves, The moon moves east to west In the blink of sleep, Churches giving alms and unlocking doors, Schools excelling, Parents attending. To juxtapose is divergent, Like sobering up with detergent (You may be clean, but are you dry?). If insurgents were divergent, We'd have more convergence.
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
Divergent Insurgents
Intake warm breeze as chest expands Like a tequila shot Slammed Top shelf tequila... A more enduring Sobering Variety of elixir Oxygen and energy ringing Integrity intact Confidence withstands Through chaos and madness I AM a glorious being We ARE shining out into the galaxy Can't you see? Only by running on Spiritual fumes of evermore Can we truly be All we were meant Without a penny spent The universe expands Fills up every pore of pink lung Feeding blood as it wraps around My heart squeezing out Every ounce of Stamina and love Exhale air of hope So grateful to it Swirling up My being bowed down in reverence Indebted to it the atmosphere The same breeze Engulfs birds in the trees, Who drink it up, Singing sweetly Sure beats man-made Intoxication any day of the week Don't you think? The best highs of this life are beautifully Intrinsically Deceivingly Free Go forth! Spread your wings Spanning from Past to future Fly to sights unseen! Soar the currents of today Right up to the heavens Dear friends! I'll be perched Waiting for your faces in the branches of Serenity, Chirping hymns of Love
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
Hope Air Rises
My like for you has turned into love. its uncontrollable, pouring over the edge love. love that makes me uncomfortable but so comfortable at the same time. You are the rough yet gentle waves and I the sobering sand. washing over me, taking some of me with  you after every wave.
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 5:15 AM UTC
Matt
The light knocking on my window from the rain's tiny fist may be the single, most relaxing, contemplative sound in Mother Earth's long and sobering life.
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 10:46 PM UTC
Goodnight
we did what we could that night and a supernal being is ashamed. this is the drift of thought in the vast ocean of gilded gold frothing at the edge of rotund: giving back a silenced enigma, spewing the answer in an exhaust of white rancid smoke dharma burns plastered to cigarette. burning and burning, afloat are the high-pouncing embers looking for fleeting shades and dagger-ambulations of a shadow's swagger in tectonic soiree. we did what we could that night. like a flash of lightning at the back of hoarded hills, or say, something brutal and brash with modern sensibilities we never jell — we come not with softness or life peering out of our eyes like little girls serenaded by mad men in the eve of forlorn nights. we did what we could and some god cringes, winces away like the erratic dance of candleflame. the leviathan black spreads its parasol and we are no strangers. when our veraciousness starts to pierce the veil, the populace should start to worry of their trapped conditions. we came here for something: be it flesh, be it wisdom, be it plain inebriations — we will never flinch at the squalor of tomorrow's sobering. keep in mind, kaibigan.     it's all levitation and transcendence. the darkness wept as the car groans near the end of its immaterial life. i flick the last cigarette into the grey-faced pavement. all oceans drowned, all shadows burgeoned, all fires emerged plump, this silent radio rivers through the wave of this ephemerality, the onomatopoeia of strangeness, the   thud       of the senseless head of metal      on the body the   clackety-clack        of hours thereafter! ayeayeaye! the streets sing no mild   appendage. the solstice is lost     in the length and precision of all things. bringing ourselves to the brink of absence,     our pallid selves set ablaze, emblazoning the quick life of matchflame or rumble of         thunder — the steady phoenix of        that night! this is learning   to breathe again, o, what currents purloined in vicious swarth as we keep      this river flowing into our throats,   jamming our souls to compelling music.    remember kaibigan, it's all levitation and transcendence.
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Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Levitations
we did what we could that night and a supernal being is ashamed. this is the drift of thought in the vast ocean of gilded gold frothing at the edge of rotund: giving back a silenced enigma, spewing the answer in an exhaust of white rancid smoke dharma burns plastered to cigarette. burning and burning, afloat are the high-pouncing embers looking for fleeting shades and dagger-ambulations of a shadow's swagger in tectonic soiree. we did what we could that night. like a flash of lightning at the back of hoarded hills, or say, something brutal and brash with modern sensibilities we never jell — we come not with softness or life peering out of our eyes like little girls serenaded by mad men in the eve of forlorn nights. we did what we could and some god cringes, winces away like the erratic dance of candleflame. the leviathan black spreads its parasol and we are no strangers. when our veraciousness starts to pierce the veil, the populace should start to worry of their trapped conditions. we came here for something: be it flesh, be it wisdom, be it plain inebriations — we will never flinch at the squalor of tomorrow's sobering. keep in mind, kaibigan.     it's all levitation and transcendence. the darkness wept as the car groans near the end of its immaterial life. i flick the last cigarette into the grey-faced pavement. all oceans drowned, all shadows burgeoned, all fires emerged plump, this silent radio rivers through the wave of this ephemerality, the onomatopoeia of strangeness, the   thud       of the senseless head of metal      on the body the   clackety-clack        of hours thereafter! ayeayeaye! the streets sing no mild   appendage. the solstice is lost     in the length and precision of all things. bringing ourselves to the brink of absence,     our pallid selves set ablaze, emblazoning the quick life of matchflame or rumble of         thunder — the steady phoenix of        that night! this is learning   to breathe again, o, what currents purloined in vicious swarth as we keep      this river flowing into our throats,   jamming our souls to compelling music.    remember kaibigan, it's all levitation and transcendence.
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59
“Keep your nose clean” His intent was momentous. An ant like phrase, with mountainous exorcism. “Keep your nose clean”, His voice like Zeus, thunderously subtle. Echoing and vibrating, through regret, sin, and fueled debauchery. This phrase kept me true, on-course through, dark seas. A map to navigate, knowing when, to steer away. “Keep your nose clean” I hear him still, his voice sobering. “Yes, grandfather.” “I will”
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Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 9:36 AM UTC
Momentous Intent