i dont like this. dead dying death bliss. face take took them
make made hook in
here there yes this.
it. the end was found in the beginning and discarded. Saw myself. Saw seen sowed sewed time stitching stitched unravels unwinds wounds. wound up. womb. times up. womb darkness. whom not us. whos, not yet. move, my guest. two times yes. fools find us. fools find it. tools time tic, tools im it. mule mind mint. stool cry bricks. mind witch time nix. nine six. five beats dine in. frightened highten light give spine chill rhyme kill, time will. buy sell hi hell. life vail mind gel mind tell time tell sky fell light shell bright quell.
interpreting nothing as one thing away from every. all things all wings all ways all make all pray all day all life. burn die scorch torch. course sort thru rifflings found in mental. fine weve given. fine we'll gift them fine we'll milk them shine be prisms. dine we innards. find me limits. nine t ten of .
bite the melon, mind green is numb, mines leak venom pride wreak livid die we will it.
nie he villain prime the real one. mind free fill them signs we kill will, vine free will. dine we will. mind leak real. find we will. chime me in. time we still. hell we live. tail weak pill end we them. life we give. knife we will line we drill mind we deal
vile feast film. child weep when dial treat till. pile preach skill nile de in.
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what it is
Home. As I grow with time like the nose of Pinocchio grows with his lies, I've surmised, albeit my innate and with no mass stirring of motivation or diligence to pique my intrigue to the point of interest or beyond the confines of limited to the brink or passed the point of what we or just me can see as limitless my impeccable, and if you would please allow me to be bombastic rather than bashful extra-terrestrial inference is not worn out loud with crowds to appease or appear as kings when i'm at home in the soul and the bones that is me. Home Is what it is. Home as what it is represents a multifaceted and dynamic range, a multifaceted and dynamic range of damage and breaks, the kind that align without reasons and whys and for all purposes genuine a good character makes. A multifaceted and dynamic range of rage and havoc can enslave the brain to be spastic achieving feats of reaching clouds 9 to 11 but cant connect the piece it would need to link its cerebellum to heaven. Energy in motion like rockets exploding and the flames enraged engaged with wind twist and bend for a chance to encapsulate forever in them. My ability to infer for instance could lead one to make an inference that my intuition is at home in my intellect seated on the throne of intelligence. To me home is a clone of the mind that spies and seeks to find what may be outside. The grass thats greener on the other side could perhaps shed light if what is shining is shown through the right window of the home you goodnight in on the road to the storefront of woes in the forefront of lobes are closed. Your eyelids like the youth in the warm summer after noon hang low to the Earth. Where the rooster calls and nature concurs. Your eyes with no need for words slips into slumber for a time with no number. Eyes in use with no passion to prove can conclude the absolute truths of youth. Grass is green mom is home dad is too. The sky is free and from what we see of the sky it seems blue. The sky ive seen it weeps and apparently my parents do too. In that I see home is ,we ,I, us ,them, and you.
By Writer anon6163 years ago in Poets
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author6 days ago in Fiction
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