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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| He Called Me MissHe called me miss and ended up on my mattress!I was his mistress for a whole momentAnd he was mine.Yes we had the look;Which spoke so thoroughly that it ignited the senses of the dead.And such a powerful thing to say to a stranger!The music and the quietness of the momentCast us away, not to love not to admiration But to a space where our ignorance didn’t matter.He called me miss and he loved me more than the man who calls me lover!He called me miss and I never saw him again! | | |
| My february the 30thThe floor is coldMy blood is colderI cant recall how I ended up spread on the groundLack of sleep? Sickness? drug over dose? Perhaps ! All I know is that I am there, its done!I feel beautiful, burden-less… If only my beloveds could see me now;Snap a picture of my motionless beauty!Where are my beloveds anyway?Well , they have to show up at a point! I cant last that long, not this way!Any minute now!Lovers feel each other; he’ll walk right through the door ,Any minute now!I wont be able to see her shoes because my big hair covers my shut eyesBut I repeat, lovers feel each otherI’ll feel somethingAny minute now!The sounds gradually fade awayMy heart beats are louder yet slowerI am growing quite accustomed to tranquilityI’ll miss that serenity, but my beloveds are worth the chatter of lifeI’ll re-engage with them Oh how exited I amLaugh again with them, love with themAny minute now!Yes ! Here now, a hand reaching out for meIt is so smooth, so warm and cuddlyIs it sweet he that heard my disturbed heart beat?Is it sweet she that sensed my frozen feet?Is it him? Is it her?OH God, It is the housekeeper!!! | | |
| anti clocksthe anti-clock is ticking do it now why wait? dont run out of time now you'll vanish anyway why suffer the wait? oh u are very aware arent you? you can feel the still wind you can hear miles away you observe their details they just don't know they don't know! are you going to blame them for their ignorance? are you going to teach ever single one of them? exhaust yourself enough to vanish tock tick tock tick your sweating now tock your exhaling more than you inhale tick your in so much pain, very nasious tock stick your fingers down ur throat and let it all? tick and do the same tomorrow? tock tick waiting tock waiting tick waiting tock waiting tick why cry dear beautiful? why lie on the floor in despair? being unnoticed doesnt hurt when your dead! | | |
| the girl named she!!The girl named she, cursed her beloveds for she needed a reason to weepJustification of tears and sad memories to keepShould she look weak to those who suffer moreShould she complain of the pains of her eternal war?Her walls would gradually close inAnd she started to feel the solitude forming her coffinYet she breathed like she never breathed beforeShe’d laugh she’d cry she’d love and she’d hateShe’d sleep she’d wake she’d breath and suffocateShe’d appear all strong but she was afraid of her fateThe girl named she tossed about the bedThe girl named she heard voices in her headThe girl named she didn’t know what to do No lover no friend no sibling and none of uThe girl named she had no one to observe herThe girl named she traced her veins with a razorAnd you’ll never know why she killed herself | | |
| days of despair "just for xanga"Where is the silence? Where is the peace? Quietness and time are tedious. I died somewhere, I died when I became aware of the living. I observed them with a keen eye, I was merging with their melody to get by the day. I was pretentious and sleazy! I was never truly happy by those I most longed for. I would push my way in through the strong crowed, to find myself tossed around like a dead pooch and out again. I speak with the past tense, for I no longer have faith in tomorrow, tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow! Tomorrow was today, it was yesterday, so was the day before yesterday and the day before that! We resign at the sentence of “come what may” with the heart filled fear that what may come is against our satisfaction. It comes, it hurts, we remember it, we never forgive it, amnesty is oblivion. And now, at this very breath I am inhaling, I am loosing contact with the souls. There’s flesh, a lot of it, yet no connection. Illusions, ungrateful illusions. Neurotic imaginations, mirror conversations and a whole play where I star all roles. I feel that ghost, I see it, I laugh with it, I hear its sarcasm, I saw it die once, I had it in my arm, my dead ghost! Vanished and I wept. Real tears for artificial existence. Could I be so lonely that I have imaginary friends in the midst of my adolescence? Untamed and unsatisfied and I am creating insanity. The spiritual connections, I am blocking them out, my pretentious skills have evaporated. My unwelcoming face drives those pathetic companions away. I am unconsciously retrieving where I will be lost and damned. For I, Fevee, damned myself and cursed my life, unaware, with eternal detachment. | | |
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