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Michael A Duff Apr 2021
If there is another thing beyond this one I shall meet it

Seeing beyond the futures of tomorrows not yet lived

There is a place I feel it I'll meet you there
I was diagnosed with a rare form of terminal cancer, I want to wrote my thoughts until I can't one day the right person will read them
Michael A Duff Oct 2019
My everything is
she has become to me
Nothing is missing
When you have been crushed to your smallest bits and still hurt from loss of the one you had given your heart to completely it is nothing short of beautiful to find a person that wants to help you repair what's broken
Michael A Duff Sep 2019
now I lay me down to sleep, I promise you have my heart to keep. the sun rises, sets, and the moon is up above and all the while it is you I love. if I should die before you wake with you my soul will remain for no one else to take. this is promised completely because if you should die later in time you will have all you need to meet me
I thought We had a love so complete it could never be broken or truly disrupted
Jolene Faber Mar 2017
I'm finally me.
Im the me that lets the suns ray hit me on a Sunday.
Im the me that takes walks to clear my mind.
Im the me that doesn't need you
I'm the me that didn't have to choose,
between letting you lie and hurt the one you love,
just because you felt unsure.
Im the me that has Joy in her pores.
Im the me that enjoyed being invisible, and knowing everything about me made you feel invincible.
I'm the me that should've been this me before the real me.
Im finally me thanks to you.
and theres nothing you can do.
Kale Aug 2016
Sometimes its good
To start the cycle over
To erase all the troubles
The subsequently haunt your
Dawning future
And just be free
Even its for an inkling
Just start over.
Emma Lee Jun 2016
When Adam ate the forbidden fruit what did it taste like?  
All the good things life has to offer?
All the bad?
Did it taste like sunbeams?
Like a childs rithmic gigles?
Like The sick, upside-down, im-going-to-***-myself rolicoster feeling?
Like tight hugs?
Did it taste as good as fields of flowers feel?
Like rain?
Like farness?
Like the saltyness of sweat-or tears?
Like silence?
Like long open nights?
Like unanswered texts?
Like lunches alone?
Like the sting of liquor?  
Like raisors
Or did it taste like blood?
-DO THEY TEACH YOU THIS IN YOUR CHURCH?
You're related to the sun...
Ever so gold...
Rising invariably atop of my world...
I promise, now that it comes to you...
All that matters to me gets blacked out...
Not far from a solar eclipse...
Everything's shaded...
Even my pride gets faded...
Not a thing.. Not a word.. Nor a single soul can possibly explain it...
As if your spirit exists on mine...
Not necessarily to tear me up...
But to give birth to a new part of me...
"You" are the inception...
Matching the "Big Bang"...
Only this time, "You" are my "Own" treasured yet unsolved "Theory"...

Thu. Nov. 28th 2013.
Kawther AlKhabbaz.
It started with a poem,
& ended with another one.
This was the beginning.
Helen Oct 2015
The bottle and old thoughts haunt me all the same
In whispers of what was and should never be did we lose our way
or just vanish as quickly as the night before the day?

So many times I thought of lines
now simply I cast shadows where the blank spaces do reside.
Tomorrow cannot promise so why should I?

Let the words hold there own where I never could .
We all have a cross to bear and me?
I prefer to simply drive in the stake

But make no mistake,
what's nailed upon
an empty cross
is full of regret and loss
and underneath a barren plain
is buried pleasure and sadistic pain
self recriminations and needless blame,
but all the same
we build empires of shame
to live inside as truly insane
we drink from memories
that stoke a flame
to burn eternally, assuring fame
and comfort in a well of regret
we drink to forget, tomorrow
was just a promise made to us
by those that sit at our feet
when they crawl upon our laps
we are beat, we are trampled beneath
our own demise, we hid beneath
our own disguise
and we expired, when we desired
surcease from our wickedness

As I walk a red card in my jacket and miles of empty thoughts long cast aside
No words find solace were the demons cling to their vices.
All things decay as if to remind the living of the walk we all must bear

I find no guilt in my pleasures just more scars to bare in happiness to none.
Whispers of once was lay in empty thoughts.
I speak with a mouth full of razors all to eager to cut down the meek .
No words hold me in chains I simply but as I will nothing speaks clearly as a pause of silence.

And the old thoughts that linger to grow into rumours
Now they are all that is left of me .

Rumours of old bones that litter
the path to ruin are spoken by
those that whisper to dead ghosts
and kiss bloodless lips
inside crumbling passages
of age old keeps, on windswept
moors where bleeding eyes leak
tears weeping for something more

Down the streets cobbled with fear
slicked with garbage and the stench
of ever rotting verbiage,

Speak no more in silence, cry no more in penance of an oft abused
life that only walks alone under an
ever present thunderstorm of
howling winds and lightening strikes
and icy rivulets that trickle upon skin

This walk of sin is where it begins
I've held onto this as long as a could. He is a master of words and I am but his slave... It's always a pleasure to walk upon the path of sin with my best friend
Cíara McNamara May 2015
You are worse for my lungs
then the cigarettes I refuse to smoke.
Conflicted breathing.
Pounding heart.
Dizzy spells.
And love,
is art.
Cíara McNamara Mar 2015
Cremate me -
and from my ashes
will come new life
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