Damned.

 

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Everything I never told you.

There are parts of me I have not yet discovered. Other parts of me come to live only when the sun slips Into its grave. There are days when I shock myself and days when I am irritated by how simply ordinary this soul can get.

Something about my space  brings me joy,no intruders just me. Still, something about crowds makes me almost glad, to be lost, feigning sanguine, wearing my extrovert perfectly.

I am my fathers daughter. I have no time for frivolities, sentiments, fervours or headless carelessness. Time is money ,it should not be wasted. Space is personal, it shall not be invaded. The head is the only organ that leads governace by any other is futile.

Logic is my foundation and trust is a fools delight. Still, something about you leaves me damned. love is for ignorant schmucks but you make me crave ignorance.

I want you in my space, soaking up air, intruding with no apologies, wasting time I don’t have,folding clothes you haven’t bought.

I want to fight over nothing and everything.

peace is paramount but for you, I’d start a riot, send my members to war and bask in their wreckage. With you, my logic quivers, head looses its hold and my heart attempts a coup, all of me slugs still, I’m willing, ready,I surrender….

when you do eventually break me, pray you leave flowers by my pieces, a funeral befitting.

There would be no recovery here..

damned.

 

 

 

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Bolt

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tell me,

where do you go to escape?

Do the tales in books fly you swiftly enough?

drift’s on a spliff maybe?.

 

Tell me,

Do the chaos in crowds bring your soul calm?

brown liquor? does it whisk you away quick enough?

or me maybe?

 

 

penned in broken ink.

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here, my offerings late and burnt.

Shakespeare and his diction fail me…

literature and all beauty prose offers give me no comfort..

so, with ragged heart and plain lexicon,

a letter you may never read…..

 

Thank you for being God.

thank you for waiting through errors, broken steps and misguided walks.

thank you for never giving up, chastising in love and non-judgement.

Grateful for your patience and laxity too.

Thank you for being God.

If you weren’t, some of us would never have stood a chance.

I am puppet.

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to… fro…

It sits on a swing, my mood.

it sets its pace, picks it up…

happy, sad, happy, sad….apathy.

I have not been asked to this dance.

imprisoned, I watch it…

A second after I play a lullaby, my soul hips and hops..

this is nonsense, like this poem…makes sense yes?

told you…swings.

I am puppet.

 

Maleficent….

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when  I think of you, flowers sprout in my grave…

here, a trail of perfect almosts..

us, a tale of broken promises..

we could have been glorious…

shame

 

webbed

 

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Summer haze…

morning comes with joy, the flowers laugh too…

here, the end is near I see it..

I should be happier, my attachments hold me.

These people, this city, familiar auras.

This life I know, these street turns I have mastered.

but change is inevitable…

 

I try to breathe bigger..

walk these roads longer.

Drink these last moments… slowly.

I said a prayer then another..

I hope when the universe pulls us all apart, I hope the rift is not too wide…

however,hope is a fools delight….

I always wondered what bitter sweet tasted like…this is it.

 

 

 

 

 

Gundust.

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Today, the Eiffel Tower will go dark for Florida

just like Vegas and the ones before her.

We will pack our condolences in gift baskets in attempt to band aid this hurt.

Hushed prayers will be offered, hashtag’s will fly.

 

Seconds will crawl into days, weeks would pass..

we will grit our teeth and walk the walls of forgetfulness.

Another white male will loose stability

Eiffel tower goes dark……again.

repeat.

Of old wars.

shift

Sitting cobwebbed in 2013s dairy,

my resolutions mock me. 

I see them, smirking, daring me, coaxing,

wishing i’d make another eager attempt at self deceit…

self deceit is a brand of death.

 

Auras of clean slates or freshness elude me,

Still, my heart leaps for the unknown…

peace is paramount, happiness is violently impending…

I stay open to closing in on all I need for the next 365….

this is not poetry,

just ramblings and old wars….

…..

 

 

 

 

 

Reaper.

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I must tell you a secret.

I have been dining with death,

an old friend he is. Resourceful one.

I like the way he gives me ideas..

so much peace in having options…

 

you must tell no one.

Facile à vivre

 

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They say I am easy going,

easy to go…in..

easy to go,

like easy to leave.

I always wondered why they never stayed.

#how easy