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I remember every impulse,
Every urge,
Every dream,
Every primal scream for you to leave,
Then I gave in,
I answered your persistent knock,
I followed your tantalising hiss,
I allowed you to take over,
Only to feel empty forgetting that I did.
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Eye contact doesn't mean much,
We may catch our eyes smiling at each other but really I'm meandering in a daze,
I'm not looking at you, I'm looking for you,
But the signs were blurred by wishful thinking,
I see someone, I've found no-one.
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I extend my hand, extending my finger towards you like that one painting
As I hide behind my insecurities, I shiver with fear
It's a cold feeling, a cold way of living
But maybe if you extend your hand, extending your finger towards me like that one painting, I could feel the warmth of life; the life that exists in the air I blow my wishes out with
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Well it's a new chapter
You feel the butterflies in your stomach, their eagerness
To Turn that page gently and wildly
How zealous we are to zoom our eyes to the ending
But instead we should fixate our attention on the word infront of us
Following it to the next word completing its sentence in marriage
The vows we made before turning this chapter must be upheld; no infidelity
The fruit of this marriage is that each paragraph is filled with twists and turns; the surprises and accidents of life
If you know a surprise , before the surprise, the magic is lost
Similarly if you foresee an accident would you not try with your rational to prevent it?
What good is that?
Your not immersed in the chapter
You betray the author; the mighty author
My friend it's one word at a time
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Watching films in my mind
Where actors say their lines
That didn't make the cut
Yet they still want a slice
Like a director needs directions to get into heaven
And the credits were begging for a happy ending
But It didn't come
So it was time to see the reverend
A surprise visit; very loud questions
Rhetorical faces changing the lens
X marks the spot unless you draw it in sand
That was a great shot let's do it again
It's time to wrap it up , tuna would be nice
Maybe with some vegetables carefully diced
I've got a collection of the ones that didn't make the cut
I thank our heavenly father for this slice
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Waking up to an earthquake
My heart rattling in its ribcage
Confusion "is this lucid?"
It's gone before it starts
Comes and goes like scenery
Life returns
My breath returns
I return
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Daily mania
It's no fun
When the moon wakes up
It's jesters follow
My mind their source of entertainment
I'd rather it wasn't
Physical discomfort
Spiritual unease
Fuck
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In a mind that's dying
My regrets and mistakes are colliding
It keeps me awake until I've decided
That's all I can take for today
I do not want to die but my choices say otherwise
Please cut out my eyes and donate them to the blind
Somewhere deep inside I know I know why
But frankly that's a why I don't want to find
I'm too tired to look
I'm yawning a lot
The warnings have stopped
The torment has not
When I was a baby sleeping peacefully in my cot
I'd listen to the melodies that accompanied my dreams
And I would smile about a million different things
Then a million got reduced to nothing
Now I rarely find something
Even when I do, all it does is sting
Reminding me of the very life that I'm wasting
The reminder is not needed, it's hard for me to forget
The only time I do is when I'm in my bed
And the whites of my eyes are dark inside my head
And I've finally caught my mind preparing itself for death
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What's a heart without a home?
What's a home without a heart?
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What's protection when infection peirces the veil of self deception?
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You cannot pry open a lillie no matter the strength
Nature will do her thing; take a seat on the bench
On our bench I shall rest; soon it will blossom and blossom again
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Love makes me a fool
Like jumping into a pool
When I know I cannot swim
But I think I can for you
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One of the days it'll come true; I'll see you
But even with the 1000 hours of dreaming I still won't know what to do
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Burning pictures in this house
Your soft words they are the dowse
Lingering in these frames of rose
Although they were spoken forever ago
The sleeping pheonix hears the prose
And she continues to rest for she knows
In this house your wind blows
And thats the way it'll forever go
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If you can believe in the air that you breathe and your mind that conceives
Without the very thing ever being seen
Why can't I believe that her love for me still blossoms and beams?
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can you read this my luv? who am I kidding this is merely a commuter on your train... I knew this though
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