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It doesn’t have to be this way,
It’s not as hard as you imagined
it all to be.

There are hills, and obstacles in
the way, but persistence is key—

Prevailing is the best way
to not fall in a state so freely.

It’s all about faking your way,
And ******* it up, until you
grow so numb, because nothing
else matters—

Nothing else matters anymore.

It’s a hard road ahead, and you’re
the greatest enemy that you
could ever meet.

An enemy you could only
defeat.

But you’ve yet to stand up
for yourself, and you end up
getting torn,

A person left in shatters,
oh-so forlorn.
I lay on the warm bed,
Heated by an unforgiving sun,
Indifferent to how I felt or wanted,
Misery is my birthright;

I looked at my wrist, my slightly sunken veins,
Maybe light's wavelength is a facade,
More green than blue, more death than life,
Tainted blood, still blessed with beauty and grace;

My skin burned, was something trying to escape?
Did the wraiths of my past terrify the demons?
Have I gone insane trying to make sense of it all?
Our dying sun does not care, capitalism has won;

The tired lights of the stars and the ever-growing dark,
My arms are weary from the weight of my choices,
Losing a war does not make you a victim always,
The land is unwelcoming, evolution's mutant regret;
Jess 19h
These thoughts
so dark
These visions
so bright
One cannot exist
without the other in line
Like the stars that shine
through empty space
Don't  you  see  it?
The
D u a l i t y
Of
L i f e
The
B a l a n c e
Of
L i f e
We hold the key
To destroy
To create
But to wield
such power
Who are we and
Who are

You
And that is the Journey of life. To find who we are, or rather, to remember who we are.
The stars shine in a vast nothingness.
the heat creates light and form, and with the right mix...eventually you get...life.
If there is no meaning, then what's the point?
Randomness breeds Nihilism.
And that breeds despair along with all of it's cousins,
creating a chain reaction.
As within, so Without. As above, So below.

We are responsible for what we create, weather we know it or not.

Artists create through pain, but also create through joy and love. We have intense emotions. They are both a gift and a curse.
We have the ability to transmute.
Everyone does in some way.
I think therefore I am. I speak, therefore I create.
What you think creates the world you live in. What you speak forms it into existence.
How we use it is up to us.
There is a blessing in every curse
and a curse in every blessing.
Otherwise, how would we know anything without it's opposite?

*If I don't believe in something beautiful than I will fall into myself into utter destruction and ruin and fall into the darkest depths my thoughts can fathom.
Seeing the beauty in the smallest of things keeps me...alive. It keeps me here it keeps me from falling, it keeps me from making myself disappear. Sometimes I want to die. Other times I feel nothing.
But what pulls me out of that is seeing the beauty of things,
the balance, the compassion.
Sometimes I need to fall really hard again to see it once again.
Because every so often, i need to be reminded of just how beautiful things are,
but to do that I need to pull myself through the darkest depths of myself and face the hell i created for myself to remember what the light once looked like.
Such is life. In all things.
But that's just what I think.
The road to eternal damnation
Constantly being paved with good intention
Wrestlin' with my collection of depression
Trying to conjure up protection against wraths hateful possession
Me, myself and I, the only three at my intervention
I always thought someone might maybe one day step in
Warning me of the direction I'm headin'
Remind me about the cautionary tale of the doomed zeppelin
Or some sorta congratulation confirmation,
A little somethin' to help me keep goin'
...wrong once again...

©2024
i dream of
an awkward
first kiss
that starts
at my forehead
and gravitates
to my lips

i can see
a shared smile
and hear
a childish
chuckle
echoing between us
as we say
“**** the universe”
and we throw away
all the past things
we’d rehearsed
because, let’s face it
the us we’ve been
has been cursed
and the world around us
has been pointing
to
so many signs
trying to lead us
to each other
but somehow
we’ve still never touched
never kissed
never licked
never ******
maybe deep down
we know it’d
be too much
and we’d both
just melt
into puddles
and remain
as mush

but whenever
i tell my heart
to hush
it talks back
all sassy
like a teen girl
to her mother
saying “idgaf”
and like
girl, i get it
i am it
i live it
but
what
the
****?

why do i try
and then run
out of luck?

*******
hockey puck

something
something

i’m a frog
and i am
too afraid
to strut my stuff
All it took for me to see.
I sow within the deepest parts of me.
Weave between the cracks and holes.
My veins will tell me until I bruise.

I know that I will rue the day that I have to choose.
-Rain
Is it really up to you?
I am fine tonight, aging on this side of the shoreline.
You took me as yours.
You will watch me tonight
As I finally dance.

This last breath of mine.
One last request if it is alright?
Hold me like that day.
When you stole me.

The downpour was just like now.
Born on a day that told me how.
I could not even open my eyes.
Before you decided what was mine.

Carry me to the depths,
One more time.
I'll see the stars,
No matter where I can find.

Let me pretend one last time.
That I lived a promised life
That I was so happy I could decide.
That I was grateful despite the strife.

Maybe I would have lived a life that was mine.

-Persephone
In the next life.
Oh, you child!

Blessed be you are.

Born to be the one who is loved

You were made to be torn apart.

The angels cry and sing your name.

You were made to lose all that you've got.

Everything will be in time.

You are with no reason and no rhyme.

It will reach the depths where hell has not dug.

Your name and all the things you've done.

The world will be at your mercy.

And you will die, that is what you will do.

You will die over and over again.

You will skin what is left of your bones.

For those who will eat you whole and alive.

You will thank them for it you will thank him for it.

You will happily oblige.

Oh our sweet thorn born child.

The kisses and praise will litter your skin like an incurable plague.

You are my favourite.

And you will thank me for it.

-Percy
No one will hear you.
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