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burned from both ends.we'd been burning from both ends.
nowhere for us to run.
nowhere else to end up.
the one you once chose to turn to turned into one to turn away from.
i lose myself understanding how
how at one point we had no end in sight.
how we sat among the stars that stretch on forever,
bound with the blue that refuses to end.
how somewhere along the way we dropped.
everything we did couldn't wouldn't go our way.
how every word could taste so wrong.
how your voice could ever be irritably foul.
my eyes peel into the distance,
tirelessly puzzling our broken pieces together.
we showed we could be unworldly,
together we redefined 'potential'.
never would i have guessed you'd be a lesson to learn from.
five a.m.it disappointingly looks onto us as we walk on.
while we look for it again in all the wrong places it drops to its knees
praying for our pride to die.
it holds onto the hope that we'll call upon it again.
it is as low as we feel,
mournful over its untimely demise.
its faith wears thin and our bond cripples.
powerless, it waits
for the storm to run out of rain.
because you couldn't live with yourself i now have to live with it.
i still can't forget your perfidy.
you're nowhere in sight
but you echo through my entire day -
not that guilty glimmer in your eye,
not your doubt,
not the shake in your voice,
or even the tears i struggled not to wipe away.
instead your smile haunts me and
that beautiful innocence that stared back at me is missing in everyone.
decency is hard to come by nowadays.
you're not like the rest yet you try to be.
a charm like yours deserves to be adored.
you deserve to be adored,
even if i don't get to be the one to do so.
__________time refuses to heal.
every memory of you haunts and taunts and shadows my everyday, and
silence is telling me more than i ever wanted it to.
it remembers too much.
clinging to the past i feel inept.
my Joy is overcome by Pain.
while distance is meant to exhaust this ache to see you,
i'm still drawn to your charm, a charm
you are unaware you have,
one charm i selfishly hope nobody finds.
we may have been young and wore naivety with a smile,
yet we shared more than what anyone expected of us.
but now i hesitate in deciding who to turn to.
lost, i doubt every one's allegiance, questioning their selfless concern.
the divine timbre of your voice weakens in my memory.
the glimmer in your eyes fades from its pictures, yet still
time refuses to heal -
it must have its own agenda.
and without any hope or one of my own,
i struggle on, missing you.
this i know for sure.you're going to break a lot of heart.
you're going to be the reason to stay up late for, why during the day they are tired.
they'll hope that every cab in town is taken so you settle in letting them take you home.
you're going to be prowling through their head all day.
wherever you are is where they are going to rather be.
they're going to have you in their arms and they're going to feel right.
only to you will apologizing feel natural.
you're going to be their motivation and their assurance.
they're not going to know what to say or how to say it. but they will.
your smile will grab hold of them by the collar.
your eyes will pierce into theirs and there they will fall.
i almost feel sorry for them.
crescendos.for the moments we managed to escape into euphoria,
bored with everything else but each other.
for the moments we deservingly grew closer -
indivisible, thick as thieves.
for the feeling we got when we knew we were crazy about one another.
we had found someone we were ready to stick it out for,
to stick it out with.
with you absent everything has lost appeal, lacking glory.
so much of my security came from your approving smile.
it's quieter now, cheerless.
the silence is deafening.
i'm unhappy not knowing,
for when your knees fell weak,
for when my eyes awed into yours,
for when it was as though the significance called for a clashing of cymbals and beating drums,
for the moments that were majestically unparalleled -
i did it for them; the crescendos.
better than any high.we're meant to grow stronger coming out of moments of weakness.
but if so,
something's got to be wrong here -
i must not be out.
i find your face in crowds without even looking.
then i blink,
and once again,
i'm anchored down into the past -
you, the key.
it wasn't perfect,
you were not perfect,
but nobody's faults have been any less irrelevant than yours.
you told me i deserved better but -
and out of no lack of self-respect -
what if i don't want it, because
what if i already had it?
you were someone who was worth the risk and,
for a while (and in that while we were bound like no other could),
you saw the same in me.
knowing that was better than any high.
but here i am,
escaping into the haze,
waiting to be able to free myself of this weight,
and finally breathe.
to: each other.For most, twenty-one is when your life is just beginning - but that is when a significant part of mine had ended....
together we ignited a spark so special. but for months one of us seemed to burn brighter than the other, and now - even at eighteen - it's as if we're too far burned for either of us to even flicker....
or too far burned to care at all. In the time that has past, I have become a drifter.
I've drifted from one relationship to the next with little to no attachment. My time spent with them is short and meaningless. It terrifies me to think that I may never find that spark with another.
it's so wretchedly dry living in this ash. all appeal followed you out.
apathy spreads like cancer. to each other we meant too much - for that i am haunted and taunted. it hasn't mattered how many times i try and strike it with another - like lightning, the extremity of its grace dies too quickly. perhaps because that form of grace isn't meant to strike twice.
I was once told that, everything
a mild case of deathless depression.we weren't the most fearless, thrilling pair -
you and your doubt made sure of that.
yet pathetically, there's not much I wouldn't have wanted to do
do not get the wrong impression.
spineless or effeminate i was not.
naive and impulsive, perhaps.
a poor investor, definitely.
melancholia has made me limp,
i'm numb with regret,
and despite my anger, i have somehow been left cold.
the words i try to put together don't appear to make sense.
they don't join as intimately as the two they refer to did.
they're meant to reflect how i, more than anything, crave happiness
just not necessarily for us anymore.
stunned.it's an early morning,
i'm unaware how it's one in the afternoon out there, in reality,
and i lay in bed,
wishing i hadn't descended back down in those few hours of sleep.
i crumple through the sheets,
summer's finally quit too,
my eyes force themselves shut,
but again, my first thought is you.
the left-open window's already invited it in,
but i'll give autumn a proper welcoming.
i leave behind the warmth of my four white walls
and immediately i'm hit.
the sharpness of the cold stuns me.
i'm stopped, almost pushed back inside.
this is familiar,
but into that one memory i dug.
there's an emptiness in the wind's whisper,
the fallen leaves rustle,
the dirt's cruste
Fadedtears painting my face casting the shadows within the dark
pulling me under its claw's preyed upon death clutch
pounding fear bleeds within my skin and bones
my eyes draws within death scythe ripping away
the chapters of my life buried within my nightmare
why dry my tears but let another cry
impaired to my own emotions numb
to the cords of my existence silting
my soul to reach upon your ears
my downfall pleading for acceptance
composing my cries into deathly tunes
Little Black BookConscience was my killer;
Little black book of fate;
I stored each name
In colours of shame
And preserved the sinful date.
Skeletons in the closet;
Corpses in the yard;
All I did want
In my fell haunt
Was a faded tarot card.
HopeHope is just the lies
I tell myself
Hope tells me tomorrow
Will be better then today
So I don't cry myself to sleep
Hope whispers that next time
I'll do things right
When I only make it worse
Hope says that everything will be alright
When I know it won't be
Hope promises that there is a perfect
Person for me and that one day
I'll find that person
Hope shouts that one day
I'll do great things
And will always be rememebered
So that I'll never truely die
Hope sings of a better place
When there isn't one
Hope mocks that it could be worse
But most of the time
I'd do anything to not be me
Hope is merely a lie
But that's okay
Because a lot of things are lies
Remembering TrainsI recall how as a child
I'd walk the railroad tracks,
surveying the soot-covered ground
in search of Morocco and Spain.
I'd lie prone across the wood ties
to hear trains roll from miles away,
feeling them in my belly.
If I had pennies to spare,
I'd place them along the iron
and rush back the next day
to claim the flattened treasure.
I remember a late summer
when humidity was thick in the air,
lightning arcs lit the night,
riding the rails down the line.
So startling was the crackle
that flew in a shower of sparks
rivaling the 4th of July.
I loved the rumble of three engines
hauling a full load of boxcars.
The moan they'd make from the weight,
and the slow journey up the grade.
Sunlight flickered through the
wake of smoke passing overhead
as I walked behind the caboose
waving endlessly to the watchman.
So it is, when the night is still.
I hear a plaintive wail as a
train calls from afar.
I warm to the memories, and I answer.
To Love a Ghost I sometimes think that the reason I haven't been able to truly love someone in real life
is because a ghost holds my heart in his hands.
It's taken me awhile to admit,
but my heart belongs to a ghost,
He visits me at night as I sleep,
upon waking into a dream
I can feel his hands at my hips,
I get lost,
so lost in these times
that I swear I have never experienced
a moment so magnetic,
Daylight has never given me such a second,
it's only when I shut my eyes can I feel
the touch of a poltergeist,
The air is always thick
and foreheads damp with sweat,
then I reach for him
and I lose my sight,
All I can see are the
hot tangerine colors blending
on the backs of my eyelids,
while my other senses come alive,
I can smell sunlight, lava, and freshly opened scabs,
all so fresh and ripe and ready,
And I can feel everything
with nerve endings on fire,
his skin holds me like the wind,
and his phantom lungs breathe
lightly down my spine,
I arch into the chills
only to wake up
with my whole b
we all choose not to see
what we are versus who we want to be
we want the reasons
those we chose to forget
how we are not as we seem, so full of regret
we want scapegoats
to take with them our blame
for the failure of our wasted lives, left broken and lame
all that's left after goodbyes
we wait for it to sink in that we let it die
we want the reasons
the ones we chose to ignore
the things that could have stopped us from rotting to the core
we want closure
for what we did not say
for all those times we chose to look away
we are conditioned
to not blame ourselves
to look the other way
we watch ourselves
without a mirror
we cast off the thought
that we are at fault
we can't even fathom it
it mustn't be true
it is a truth we can no longer ignore
the fact of the matter is
we are not who we want to be
simply who we are
The World Loves To LieTrapped in a circle of greed
Watching people starting to smoke weed
Naturally hoping that I can break free
So that in the end I can finally see
A person holding out a lonely ice cream
I know that it’ll probably only be a dream
Once again I’m lost in a pointless scene
It’s a place that has lost its means
The media holds the general public by puppet strings
Because the public are nothing more than sheep
Why believe that life is better with a world
Full of puppets that need something to cling
I don’t believe in the good of the world
Because it’s simply corrupt to the core
And life without interesting events is such a bore
It’s so depressing that it makes me want to die
The world loves to lie
Lie about everything
I want to hold the strings that hold together everything
Because I want to have a taste of the power
That makes the world believe in lies
I want to hold the strings that hold together everything
Because I want to have a taste of the power
Love after DeathDancing in the winds,
Our skeletons chime in unison,
The fated Death had come,
And snatched us both up,
They say love can never last forever,
And yet we participated in the Dance of Death together,
Life has ended both our candles,
But even the dead can still fall in love.
Here I AmThe New World welcomes me
I take me first breath and cry out
Returned by a warming embrace and coos
My petite eyes struggle to focus on ones face
I knew right there who this was.
Here I Am...
Who am I going to be?
Knowing that I've been created and birthed by mother's courage.
Time to learn, experience the unknown world that's waiting for me beyond the comfort zone.
Here I Am...
Time passes in mere blinks of eyes
Grown, raised from scratch
Outside; manners and actions speak for themselves
Inside; no one can cultivate me now, too late, I can do whatever I please
Independent, cease, and shun my guardian's continuous parenting and introspective advice or informative experience.
Lone I Stand.
Here I Am!
I harmonize with the world
My quest has begun
Find my one, true, absolute home
To accept it as my own
My wings have thrived and bloomed
Now, is the time to fly away
Mother mourns, Father prays for my constant safety.
Love is what binds us together and creates fa
blown into the trees.there were thousands of them,
chandelier after chandelier.
each with its own story, its own past,
its own reason for being sent out.
every wish rose into the darkness of night,
piecing together a ceiling of hope.
every year it asks for sickness' turn to die.
it waits for poverty to strike a little softer,
for everyone to have something to be thankful and grateful for but
as they dissipated further and further i already knew joy stood right across from me.
i had already seen it in your heaven-sent eyes,
when i grabbed hold of your trembling hand.
what burned in us burned stronger than every one above us,
it burned brighter than that of everyone around us but
like the ones that were blown into the trees,
embarrassingly consumed by its own,
or the ones whose fire weakened mid-flight,
erasing them from sight,
our flame died out somewhere up there.
we wouldn't make it much further.
i don't speak of any of it anymore.
i never seem to say it with the same voice.
it's emptier, less assuring th
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
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