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in silver streams of partial consciousness. / the day doesn't rise, but rather treads. / eyes and nose just above the surface of an immense expanse of sinking darkness. / in the pauses which dictate the moments to su
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write it down. / make it rhyme. / no real reason. / just an exercise in numbness. / the snow never stopped falling. / the sun never set. / on that day that i was born it all came to an end. / drink your so
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you've been my reason, but the only reasons that you have are your own. / you've been my inspiration and i beleive that i've reaped all that i can. / beautiful as you are it just can't matter anymore. / beautfiul as
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subliminal. / the call of flesh. / the means into it. / the craving for. / / i'm an open casket at a funeral that never ends. / all i dream of is dirt. / it's smothering me. / / life's an infomercia
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this raw disease. / that some call life. / it's killing me. / one night at a time. / this outside turning in. / i feel so exposed. / like my insides are showing. / like i have no skin. / less than human
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I wonder… / / How long can I fight this? / / How long can I force this unwanted air through these stubborn lungs? / / How long must I force this diluted blood through this blackened heart? / / Afterall…
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I’m still here… / / No matter how much you may choose to ignore me… / / I’m still your son… / / No matter how badly, at times, I may wish I wasn’t… / / I’m here… / / Though, not merely as a target for
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At the top of the stairs. / / Everything below. / / Nothing above. / / Staring like a star down from the heavens. / / At a world that’s just a distant gum drop stuck in jaws of broken candy. / / Empt
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The thing is… / / She was a big part of my life for several years… / / Unfortunately… / / I was only a small part of hers… / / The funny thing about people is that they say things because they think it’s t
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It's sad because if I wrote something beautiful an hour before no one will ever know. / They'll wind up here. / Dressed in the wind like orphans at the ocean's edge. / Never knowing all that came before the force of
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The screams / They surround me... / Envelope me... / The things I've endured... / Noone should have to... / Will the screams cease? / I doubt it. / Will I make it through another day? / Sometimes I wonder...
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Everyone has a special person in their life that just seems to make everything better... Someone that no matter how close to crying you ma
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Memory is a tattletale. / A fishnet vase. / Spilling water everywhere. / Sex is an attorney. / Sworn to defend the guilty. / A snowflake in April devoured by the greening grass. / You spend your whole life p
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been thinking maybe it's just better to embrace alone. / accept that those kinds of connections belong to a world i've never known. / been remembering, how it doesn't take long in that place to forget whatever you used
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just taste the darkness. / sweet and sour as it can be. / a combination of chocolate and arsenic that kills so slowly. / / just remember that monday is where you are, and friday is where you want to be. / to se
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hold me now or never hold me again. / an easy decision. / an easy decision when your arms are empty either way. / a long drawn-out parody of sex and magic is what it's become. / a morbid allegory on the properties
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I'm sitting here thinking there's something I meant to say, but didn't yet. That I ought to, but can't. That I am not who I presumed myself
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some people kill themselves quickly. in an instant they go from alive to dead.
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Not really a poem... just a few things I need to say... It was not my choice to leave all of you behind... And I hope against e
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You're not starting a new life so much as just finishing up an old one. Octopuses spilling from the garden hose in a galaxy of arms.
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I was sitting with my right foot tucked into my crotch and my left knee propping up my chin. Surveying the carrion the day had left.
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What comes after nothing? Progress sewn into knotted brows.
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No more to say… No more to be read…
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Your voice is a hope… It teases when all hope has gone…
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firefly thoughts create pinpoints of light in the darkness. random and sporadic like so many of life's aspects.
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trench coat lovers. like private investigators you know are always there, but cannot find.
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if time would only treat us as peers instead of slaves. maybe then we'd feel free.
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forgotten as it is. too many hours to fit into this tiny head.
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i should've done something. not just listen.
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Cross legged on my bed With a single tear down my cheek
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I lay alone tonight the dark embraces my thoughts
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i'd say goodbye if i thought that i could actually go through with it. but i know my own weaknesses.
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ask me tomorrow. don't say anything tonight.
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the shallowest pool is the easiest to drown in. since no one ever suspects. and the deeper ones are of little threat.
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I wonder... Could it be...
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