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I breathe
your shimmering
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The pain took residence;
first ticking of clock after her death
by CinfullyDelicious
33 lines, 31 comments,
2 days ago. In Contest, Death, Pain, Loss, metphor, Imagery, Emotion, Depth, Sad, Hope
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Why doth thou speak righteously
when thy blood runs red;
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His ultimate touch
turn me into love's rose
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drowning in duty
tepid direction
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Dark and cold was the night
about two-hundred year ago.
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Innocence falls
from raven wings,
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surrealism lives within the
boundaries of a sudden blast
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Solitude can be shared if
you march to the same drum.
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Into meadows inviting warmth
Waiting for butterflies
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The damp heavy smell of asbestos reeks from the shredded wallpaper
Where the spirits of the insane dead once clawed at, ripped at.
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Plumage singed burnt exploding
Soft impact, dazed dreaming
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fireworks in a black sky
look like frightened ghosts
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Listening to poems
whose cadences are rich
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Left illusions
Shimmering softly
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