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What are we, if not for words
Trying to find meaning in this world,
But always coming back to the place
Where our pen and paper submerge.
We are all poets, aren't we?
If only
becoming a stranger for you,
would mean I don't have to
do that for me.
A stranger for myself via you.
The iridescence of this feeling,
shall be the guide to a better path ahead
hoping we will strive,
to make newer mistakes instead
If you ever need me
to show you the way
always remember that
it's the rain that makes the tears go away.
rain is a pacifier of eternal emotions.
I met a girl
Last night,
When the stars aligned
In a straight line,
Like a 2-d plane
With the axis-aligned,
She came in
Like an external variable,
To bring another dimension
To add an edge
And take the edge off,
While I try to understand
This secluded sense
Of restless validation,
I try to jot it down
These words in commotion
Alas, poetry in motion.
and then I woke up.
Ego is the enemy,
but also a muse.
there is no excuse,
for me feeling blue.
It's not the first time anymore,
I ponder with open eyes
But not with an open heart,
Each time I'm fallin' in love again
With a little less intensity and audacity,
But still going for it
With the hope,
I could fill it
With some half-hearted passion,
No butterflies in my stomach anymore
But it'll still be a movie,
You hope to end it
Before the credits get rolling.
thought this would last longer
but the feeling itself is that of solemn brevity, yet pure.
Midnight
I'm out for a stroll,
I greet the devil
Out there collecting souls.
these dreams that I'm having maybe the best I've ever had.

Or wait...

Am I the devil and there is no dream?
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