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Literature Text
Coiling, twisting, constricting
Around my neck, a noose of damnation
Binds me for my indulgences and wicked ways;
Redemption forever eludes my reach...
Burning, blazing, scalding
Is the conflagration within my aching heart;
Passion long forgotten yet forever present
Within the rhythm of my existence.
Falling, tumbling, unravelling
Down into the chaos from which I evade
For the sake of self-preservation
To delay my inevitable fate...
Calling, whispering, screaming,
My desperate words are ignored,
Muffled by the octaves
Of discord and undoing.
Drowning, choking, struggling,
I try to hold on
To this pitiful reality,
Drenched by delusions of grandeur...
Erased, dissolved, undone;
At last, I am at peace...
My empty husk dissipates
As I become one with the endless void
Around my neck, a noose of damnation
Binds me for my indulgences and wicked ways;
Redemption forever eludes my reach...
Burning, blazing, scalding
Is the conflagration within my aching heart;
Passion long forgotten yet forever present
Within the rhythm of my existence.
Falling, tumbling, unravelling
Down into the chaos from which I evade
For the sake of self-preservation
To delay my inevitable fate...
Calling, whispering, screaming,
My desperate words are ignored,
Muffled by the octaves
Of discord and undoing.
Drowning, choking, struggling,
I try to hold on
To this pitiful reality,
Drenched by delusions of grandeur...
Erased, dissolved, undone;
At last, I am at peace...
My empty husk dissipates
As I become one with the endless void
Literature
Skin
We crawl out of our skin
just to get under
each other’s,
and once we’re
deep beneath one
another’s epidermis
we just lash at
the windows,
throw ourselves against
the walls,
we beat at the doors.
We rip each other
apart from the
inside out.
I think you know
that I’ve always
worn your skin,
always had your face
laid perfectly on top
of mine.
Good thing I’ve always
had your bones, too,
always felt your aches
and pains.
I own so much of you,
no wonder I’m always
trying to change.
I wonder what
you have left
of yourself?
A handful of
fingernails,
some locks of hair,
your attitude.
In my mind’s eye
Literature
Unease
The world will face its early end
When scorn becomes the new trend
The remaining hope is our sense
Only we can save the world from its absence
Literature
Rejection
Neuropathy nudges
Crisply across fingertips;
Flaming pen drips as
Mental strength dissipates
Into malleable mirage.
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A free-verse written for NPM in april...
Do not know what it is about too much though... It is quite complex...
Please comment/critique if you favorite!
Do not know what it is about too much though... It is quite complex...
Please comment/critique if you favorite!
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