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幽玄 Feb 1
unloving, perennial transference
lachrymose lacerates the morning eyes
barren was the suffering heart
sudden was all urges to end the trend
downpours a sufferer that had let you in
upkeep the assemblage for critique
of dire need for others desires
I could no longer go on
halting at my unmoved feet
bursting all visceral organs
for all the passerby’s to see
for those to keep moving along
without a sweeping eye
shifting into nowhere
was it I
as it is now,
          was it then.
т о с к а
幽玄 Jan 24
my search for truth has only but elucidated to me that this time alive in its entirety comes to show:

I see everyone’s sense of shame,
maybe they see mine,
their ugliness spills out only sometimes or all together,
It is in how subtle it becomes,
that the focal point magnifies
encumbered by uncomfortableness,
spewing out over all that which was illusionary, once cultivated from the very mold that now causes them to frown in misery,
misplaced do they feel,
in those such rich life forms,
so real,
projects my own shame,
for what I am,
for what I am to become,
the demon smiling from within every now and then:

it’s either now or never to accept the watchful essence lying deep in your depths that goes unnoticed until one day it arrives too late.
for as late as my mind is, early was I always for your misery.

  Jan 16 幽玄
the blankets of waters had taken me
they wanted me to drown
I did not know how to swim
but I learned to breathe underwater
幽玄 Jan 10
days without saturation,
are those most calm, nothing heard
hard to say, breathe the exhaustive air
meant to push out the lung, suggestive evidence
nerves come undone, little is felt from pain
a larger being, a questionable catalyst
sung by the one palliative sigh, knowing no arm rest
It follows on the narrow line, ending with whomever finds there place in front of such pouring eyes,
sorrowfully spreading awareness, plumage erecting on wings across the delicate light
shafts, dazzling softly through curtains weave
exposing those feet, the only space for warmth to beware
The only exposure the cold daringly shares,
only thinking,
irrespective to what lies near,
at those sincerely concerned
‘Life, everyday, seems to be, distilled, from feeling, distant is the living, that everyone is accustomed to’
so is this breathing, being no room for understanding left to flood the growing, full is this body
full is this afternoon
of lounging about
uneventfully, shrouded with dark folds
layout of quiet times,
surpass plentiful moments
stale, unforgiving for lost opportunity
So waves respire off from beginnings tongue
being the result to what another is feeling
thoughts clouding those empty fields of another’s experience
a false swathe from the hand , landing on this embodying heart
transpires concurrently, though oblivious to both
given into what has no reason to exist
smothered, are you, from it.
  Dec 2018 幽玄
when you tell the world.
what you hide

when you tell them
that you want to die

they'll laugh and say
"death is inevitable"

and "we all die someday"
they say with a smile

"the human species was

not meant to last for a while."
In the end
death is the last friend
that we will ever see
  Dec 2018 幽玄
Death is a cruel lover

for he cheats on me
with the people closest to me
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