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And how do I keep inhaling when the air has vacated my chest?
With memories that use up all the time that I invest
Banished like pests from the house I used to inhabit
No longer within reach like the rest of my bad habits
To think what you did this for unable to find a reason
Only blank spaces stand to justify your treason
What pain I am composed of
Fear constructs my skin
Until new experiences are made
Old ones sink further in
Again and again play movies in my mind
History home to me so I constantly rewind
I continue living though it's just a waste
Adventures await but I can't seem to make haste
If only I could control these dire thoughts
With your presence gone happiness rots
Seeking solace in words spilled onto page
Anticipating the key that will unlock my cage
The mystery remains as to the force driving you to go
Perhaps even you yourself don't know
Written 2-26-21
I strum a chord on an old guitar
I look out and see one old man at the bar
It’s quite common for no one to be here
That’s become one of my fears

After the show, the man looked into my eyes
As if he was feeding from all my lies
He asked if I could do no better
Then he left me with a letter

The letter contained every detail of my life
It even described me dying to a knife
But it can’t be real, it just doesn’t sit well
Could this really be hell?

When I look in the mirror, my bodies on fire
My eyes burn in tune with desire
Yet when I step away, the flames extinguish
And I’m left only in pain and anguish

Then I awake from the same fever dream
In hopes of learning what it means
So, I pick up a guitar and play a track
But I feel a sharp pain, as I fall, with a knife lodged in my back
It’s cold, it’s cold, I hear someone say
I turn to glance at an empty sky
Why, not even the birds want to fly
I think to myself, how much further to the bay

There’s footprints where I am now
Memories of those left behind
Or maybe ones of those hoping to find
A reason to disavow

The snow falls and I hear laughter
I turn to look, but it is just me
My mind takes me back to the sea
But that was a disaster; its time for a new chapter

Again, I hear, its cold, its cold
I glance to find a mirror
Staring at me with my reflection so clear
Is this how it will all unfold

I hear a door crack and my eyes open
There's a man with a key, looking at me
He asks how I am going to be
I try to run, but this a cell, of where to I’m frozen
How long have you been here?
Not too long I suppose
I paused, looking up in a fear
And falling out of my hand, one red rose

I smiled back saying “long as the day”
The conversation went on
He soon left after we had nothing to say
Shortly after the sun was gone

The next day the same incident occurred
This time he need not bother to speak
For we both know for sure
Tis the fate of the weak

As I flew south, others went north
For me there was nothing left to stake
The others are still trying to find their worth
And I have nothing left but to wake
Man May 6
The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?
You were enchanted by the mystery,
You thought it was love and pursued me.
Been excited to discover every part of me.
Touched me like a book, what an interesting story it could be.

I am just ordinary,
people might see me as an old book that could not be understood easily.
I am just nobody,
but you brought me up to life where my existence has been saved from a tragedy.

You have stolen my heart that made my feelings to ramble.
'T was confusing...
and for a moment, I never thought that this will cause me to slumber.
'T was frightening...
A nightmare when we became lovers.

We both made this story, a fairytale.
In the end, it's ourselves that we fail.
Fantasizing each word, trying to mend the aching wounds.
It's not the sword that cuts, but the lies that's ripping us 'till we hear the rhythm of the heart that pounds.

I have never lived my life through your expectations.
Still, we tried to chase everybody at their romantic phase,
while being deceived by our own illusions
As I turned the page, showing fears that I couldn't face.

I laughed when you told me that, alone, I can write it beautifully.
like the songs with a perfect melody.
You think that tearing me apart could turn into a perfect art,
Leaving me afraid and lonely.

I was left there, hanging.
In every page, horrible scenarios are ranging
I was left there hoping,
Just in case there still be a happy ending.
WHAT AN ART TO GET HURT
Jeremy Betts May 1
Am I guilty?
Probably
We all are aren't we?
Literally everybody?
A rarely talked about reality
But a reality none the less surely
Find it in every living things history
Trying to hide it is silly
It's no mystery
It's humanity
A flawed design set free
It comes with the territory
But the what for,
Now that's a bit beyond me,
Maybe
If I'm forced to go by what I see,
It's exactly
What y'all do too actually
But how can that be?
If you would please,
Explain it to me
And do it slowly

©2024
Zywa May 1
God greatly desires

peace, man gives him more and more --


to ponder about.
Story "Dichtertje" ("Little poet", 1918, Nescio), written in 1917, chapter 1

Collection "Rasping ants"
Josie Apr 21
Don't look at gray clouds for answers
Dull, blurry, nondescript
They cloud the mind
With mystery and uncertainty
Here today but gone tomorrow
Like a dream lover
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