

a mess, a poem.Oh, I'm dreaming again, cross sections and fascinations and the suffix of chains, under blankets before frantically discovering myself.a mess, a poem.
Shame, I miss sources, and want to
come as close as possible to your beautiful smell &


Landscapes Hello, ive decided to write this I want to makeLandscapes
a canvas of you and whether you read this or not
you dont have a choice because I have your attention and when I press the key you make the sound,
that is the nature of this page what is nature nature is a collection a collection of death and nutrition but
mostly death because without a very large majority of death there can be no nutrition and animals eat
sometimes animals eat each other an animal that eats another animal and is eaten by another animal has made it possible for that animal to eat two animals and can you


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


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.
POETRY.COM is a well-known SCAM. Look it up-- do a search on "poetry scams"-- they are NUMBER 1 on every list. Don't be fooled into entering-- once they get hold of your e-mail you'll never get rid of them.
10,000 posts in under half an hour. Ya, rly, Poetry.com thinks you're ALL brilliant.
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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.
Mate, you have an awesome talent... such a knack for writing, its great!
Really encourage you to keep it up and upload some more of your work. I look forward to reading it!
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