United States

Join Date: September 12, 2018

Message from Writer

I have found that what I put here before was very deep.
Just wanted to say hi.
So hello.

Growing Down

May 31, 2019

He begins with, 
Opening here, yet somehow not began, haven't started, new lifespan.
Writing lines, black as coal, broken heart, mending soul.
Go to sleep, find light rest, open pages, it seems as though I'm the guest.
Countless hours, spent inside, painting backwards, without a guide.
Puzzling pieces, shoved apart, finally fit, perfect art.
Simply honest, yelling loud, hitting pillows, no longer cowed.
Padded snow, stringing words, laughing silent, singing birds.
Reclaimed thoughts, back outside, rushing fields, taken stride.
Words are spoken, opened eyes, racing thoughts, ever skies.
Milestone here, doubly so, interesting premise, reality although... 
Music has entered, notes flying by, passing in colors and sunset paved sky.
Cliche in a thought, clashing emotions, icicles standing, a frozen ocean.
Back below two, open to change, almost forgotten, all responsibility and pain.
Living in air, in winged birds' lives, the ocean is seen, as white dove dives.
Drifting through rivers, of legos and letters, reading is trivial, building is better.

Without complication, a thought of tarnation, doesn't have to see, what is in me.
a thought outgoing, easily overthrowing, what it never really needed to be.
Vertigo isn't bad sensation, but in indignation, I took as something had to agree.
Incense filling spaces, candle smoke enlaces, sage and thyme with empty faces. 
Scorching tales, of dragons and mail, without anger and hail, holding up grail.
Leaving a place, where only temporary space, existed to be replaced, incased.
Rushing to somewhere, entirely unaware, of what could have been spared, as I jumped toward open air. 
Sitting in beat, a journey can't meet, kept with deciet, secrets aren't sweet.
Gliding down, with map and sound, without ground; astound. 

The memory will end soon, before I fully lose the tune, 
while sitting on my lonely dune, staring out into the moon,
carving out a sealing rune, until I see the light of noon,
oh, what a buffoon...
Even closer to the end, now pictures are my garden to tend, 
for writing this to you I bend, the rules that I do extend,
to be able to befriend, and not offend the godsend of love.
Nothing left to remember.

One. More. Year.
One more year of treasure.
One more year of sun.
One more year of sanity.
One more year of battles ​won.

One more year of living."
He finished as he realized the only thing he ever had in common with anyone else was that he was different.
Laying my life before your eyes. Maybe you'll be able to glimpse a little something for yourself.


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