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I feel dumb
because
the blood isn't
making it to my brain
it's rerouting itself
to where
it's pumped
and I
feel
light-headed

*falls
But do you not realize how  
Littered
You are, with so much  
Time–              

               Still,  
You choose to waste it

Yet time will always lick
Our wounds
Given the time, for us to heal

               We are
           Time's litter.
Nostalgia 17h
Go forth and be who everyone wants you to be.
Speak in tongues that aren’t your own.
Involve into hobbies that will deteriorate living.
Analyze them like a book and answer with an A+
Forget yourself.
And praise the new you.
Screen testing, screen testing – I start my days wondering how I’m
supposed to play the role to my life. I have a TV screen for my past,
to better watch my back. Most days I’m too caught up on channelling
my fears, for whatever reward I believe – they'll never pay me back;
they're just all looking for payback.

My overthinking sometimes, works overtime – trying to be a good
figure; putting words into action, to be an action figure. How would
you figure, that out of the bunch of men, you could stand out of the
rest?

And wouldn’t it be funny if the woman of my dreams told me, "you
need to rest" – only taking her advice, if she's the better dream out of
the rest.

For not all men can swallow their pride; others survived gallons –
but in short, a man would do it for the right gal. You tell him, "you'll
never get that girl," his pride starts to see a challenge. A greater pride,
chases tale to make it a talent – that man seems challenged!

Every day is a just balance of challenge – wealth we scavenge, our
dreams live as memory stores; we store up what we value the most.
We look at tomorrow for what's in store; born out of love just for most
of us to go and create war.

Speaking highly of yourself, often speaking down on someone else–
speaking life into a child's life, speaking ill on them when you grow
so sick of them. In the end, we are just words.
Yeah... I’ll be the reflection of one’s depression – to hotspot their
emotions, for the ones that lack real expression. I am a weapon by
the impression of my pen; I demand love and attention – so ****
possessive; these words are my greatest possession.

My mind… my mind is just a book, and I feel so overbooked.
And the dreams in my eyes are overlooked, while I dream about
my death knowing it’s never too good. But we feel so misunderstood
hoping not to leave pieces of ourselves. Life dares to cut me down
like a tree, and sometimes I wish it would.

I’m two doors swinging in the milestones of a lonely road. I threw
my rocks at my reflections – their irregular metre, is such an ugly
ode. Still if I reflect other's depression; I’ll transport it around the
globe, and carry their load.

I am their depression to be showed. Yeah, we're depressed, but I
doubt a lot of you would really know!
call me when it's over,
i'd rather not watch it all from the start.
rewind to the credits,
make sure to read every single name out loud.

keep the tape rolling,
there might be a hidden message or two.
my mind is unstable,
but the state of it's got nothing to do with you.

so call me when it's over,
i've seen it a million times inside my head.
rewind to the credits,
read the names and remember that most of them are dead.
those who seek flame see fires everywhere,
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking.
where there's a fear of dark, there's fear of blinking,
for even momentary blindness makes you lose the way.

so many things were tempered with to always keep us scared,
on edge and waiting for the blade to drop when we're not thinking.
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking,
those who seek flame see fires everywhere.
Old People Love 
that's what we have now you see.

That kind of love where we fuss and grumble
but would never think to leave.

Where we shake our heads at each other,
and laugh and talk about the weather.
Telling the same old stories,
of all our years together.

It's hard to tell sometimes where you stop
and I begin.
I've given up on that riddle,
Really, there is no way I can win.

After 40 years, together
We're not just lovers, but best friends.

So I overlook the Lipstick on my coffee cup,
and you stealing fries from my plate.

While you pick at your spinach salad, 
and worry about your weight.

Telling me I need to hurry up,
when you always end up running late.

You tell me I'm no better 
when I forget to take out the trash.

Or you catch me hiding cookies 
in what I thought was my secret stash.

Yes, we have that old people love,
It seems we know each other too well.

And even though we joke and tease.
Seriously, It's been Hell!!!    LOL

Only kidding My Love!
I wouldn't change a thing,
I'm even happier today, 
than when I gave you that ring.

That's Old People Love.
The kind of love I hope we all have someday.
now available on my you tube channel

www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry
Thanks
If the king could give his throne to the people, his crown to the truth tellers and his robe to the poor, he could withstand any battle in life.
Antonia 2d
contemplating,
elevating,
doubt.
stay still
or risk to not get out

quick sand
an even quicker life
and bye

you never leave,
the way you came
no glory or miracle at bay
just flesh and bones
preparing to decay

and so it goes,
now still, can stay
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