

Universal Wonderment. The ugly pressure I apply Creates fissures in our comfort, Our souls and our ecstacy. What we had defeats this stinging existence.Universal Wonderment.
The circles of our minds Light the darkness in our hearts, A light that allows me to see The distance between us.
The borders of your form, Realism has no purchase.
Sculpture, Canvasse, Eternal Muse. A touch that leaves you broken.
Adjectival, I'll bear witness to your beauty. The universe has the girl to thank, For granting it the contour of brilliance. You company makes my world worthw


The Mouldable Rock of Strength Companions statistically taken given up, though new thoughts, new perspective new day, new sun seems to give me my only one and only. Derivative features of the inner-eye, Take this Raven, Let me fly, never, never, never die. You want Synchronicity? A dischordant plight, excited by the prospect of attention, self extinguishing tendencies never arise beyond a two dimensional existence, for this, I am thankful, O so thankful that I am accepted and honored an imposter in fakes clothing in a line-up of long, long, long, long....The Mouldable Rock of Strength


MiniM Love?Soon, I must sleep, Though I know I'll never be able. Text romance, unliterary love, As if something from a fable.MiniM Love?
Here comes the response, My blood and breath. Contents of the waltzing dolphin, Whose mood could be my death.
Light my path, In the dark, I'll sit, While you idle (and dream) And keep me in this fit (or is it a condition?)
A spell? An illness? Just my molten core? Can this be our untold romance? One tap on my global door?
Give up, On minor wire endeavours. An answer to my insecurities, &nbs


Past. Love. Memory.The Past,Past. Love. Memory.
Haunts me still Where I can never Be used to the feeling I once felt, As shades of the past Linger in my heart, Bewildering. Tempting. Me to go into this dream Where I can never forget
The Love,
We once shared, Where scents of roses Filled the air With melancholy despair, As screams ring out This affections drought, While hoping to relive, And reminisce
The Memory,
I have in my heart, Where stories never depart This perpetual maze Running through my mind, &
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Some people say they haven't yet found themselves. But the self is not something one finds; it is something one creates.
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Some people say they haven't yet found themselves. But the self is not something one finds; it is something one creates.
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