For the girl

There’s framework to everything in life, the rawest point that supports the structure. but my theory is that there’s more absolute points and strings that form off events. think of a building the framework would be the pillars… but if you break it down further, then it dives into a more advanced subject. which is, chemistry. But for personalities, and more complex fields. There’s multiple layers, supported by pillars. I’ve figured out some layer of the absolute. Then it would branch into biology. OR it expands further and further until hitting that point… But i think A) i begin tweaking your brain’s chemistry, this would branch further than psychology. and it would become a different system… that i don’t know yet, it would be a very advanced form of psychology, based on how your mind processes information. There’s also B) if i don’t get that far… i’lll use an absolute point. and allow you design everything, i think it’s somehow attached from multiple points, to one absolute. its attached, by strings of sorts, that come from out of the events… But it’s more on a further underlying way. But i’m thinking instead of drawing in-between the lines, I can get you drawing the lines, painting the picture! NOT PERFECT STILL LEARNING.

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The white wave.

White waves spread throughout the city, originating from the central area.

People are stumbling, they suffer; getting rich, powerful.

Silver tea sets; hoarding within the home – feeling empty.

Chasing the substance, while needing substance.

Learning becomes knowledge; liquor becomes empty, pipe hot, their dreams sizzling.

Forever, an empty space. The human desires;

But dreams die, moments are lived but not appreciated.

Everything has value, but remains valueless.

The tide forms around the city; lives become meaningless;

like the possessions they own; and the lives they live.

Hovering Away from the Scene of a crime.

Ego soar’s incredibly, happiness circles the body, and i feel the warmth exiting… The shell becomes punctured to the other side… My old self dies off – my soul releases – i’m reborn – a cloudy-spirit ascends, i begin gravitating, over my body. I look in every direction, notice every detail. I look upon my old self – my body appears projecting a painting of everything i went through And the end is freedom, from the past destructiveness. It feels surreal, overwhelming my spirt, I begin to “hover” away from the scene of the crime….

Ghost Woman – Haunting My Mind.

When my heart ceases, will the pain continue? – in another dimension, another universe; this moment is a cliff dive, you’ve taken my ‘chute.

It’s a love song, that’s half through, incomplete and thrown – becoming inconclusive.

My heart want’s but the door’s closed, you can see, but want me to leave. As you watch me disappear, do you wish we could share one last beer?

You’ve promised much, but avoided plenty…. shown much… neglecting what’s meant for us two;

As i conquer these obstacles, your presence haunts – your ghost keeping i restrained – i move towards a vision, that has no substance.

So i move forward, demand more from myself, never demanding from you… But in the future i see the inevitable.

My feeling’s shattered, My soul vacuumed by your’s, and you with another.

But can he be like i? or will he be hopeful of another, like you, when thinking of some other’s.

Walking Down a Lonesome Path.

Walking down a road, within an isolated community; i know it’s for the best. My boots feel heavy, the heaviness weighs me down, I can feel the water splashing from within, i feel blister’s on my feet… The breeze feels cold within my hair, my hair casts to the sides, as her’s would have, memories pop within the mind. And seemingly my boots feel heavier, more full. I notice leaf’s of the trees, they’re ending in their time’s – feeling hopeless. I tell myself it’s for the best. Flower’s are dying, the clouds look full, and needing release – My eyes feel heavy, my soul beat, my face flushed – i don’t cry, i don’t hope anymore, i continue down my path – My energy depleted. I see a car buzz by me in a mocking manner. A white owl, is within the tree taking notice of my struggles. I stop, look towards the bird. another owl goes towards, and sits beside. I figure it’s a female. I pay attention to the colour’s – The feather’s look warm, full. i begin go onwards down my path. I notice the heat coming from towards the home’s and lighting my path, I begin to stumble, my backpack begins to feel more full… more tight around my shoulder’s – i envision her hugging me, like she had… The difference between than and now, is she was intoxicated – i was her drinking buddy, her supplier, rather than a true interest. I understand victory, i understand defeat more so. The houses begin to look, more solid, more beautifully designed in appearance – i figure it’s the sighting of a better community – A better future.

Lovely Day for a Torture

My dear, do you know no mercy? I’ve climbed too high, to fall this low; I drift in the sky when you’re ‘round; Plummet to the fiery hell… My emotions fluctuate too quick… i served my heart on a golden plate; you ate it amongst the minions; the taste was unwanted…. the beat too obnoxious. the colour too bright, too warm; did you not notice, it was woven, within your traits, it held value for you.; your lips remain blood-soaked, hungering for more. Not needing i…. The heart shall be treasured…. the warm glow you neglect. Shall be another’s; yet i want you… Although you appear devilish at times, I look for the moments when you’re gravitating spirit, punctures my heart, and I fill whole; emptiness when you’ve drifted off. Anxiety before i connect; Happiness when i’ve connected. A cycle… Different identities – The heart can’t  keep up with the ever-changing environmental-costumes, how far will you go to capture and toy with what should be, cared for; the bad news is i can rip you to shreds if i felt differently; push me there?

Reality fluctuations

Appearing as an illusion, word’s being said, with 0% substance. Action’s being told; never being fulfilled. They appear as substance, but in reality, are a misdirection – Thinking too fast, gaining too little. A billboard of propaganda, dressed in a flowery dress, conforming actions multiply, dressing style’s appear mass-produced – Reality one fades – two different realities, skipping to the next, while being in the other. As I live between the two flow’s of realities happening, i gain different advantages and disadvantage – all while the lady in the dress… say’s keep going. I shout back, too long ago, i trusted somebody i shouldn’t have – now my emotions plummet, and two instances of how we’re functioning become overwhelming. The realities fight one another for dominance, and i’m losing touch… My life became different, the realities became hard to manage – Having everything, but having nothing….

She’s A rose, from the concrete.

A rose grew in concrete, the gentleness of the rose, grew from the hardened environment, withstanding the strength of the ground, its hard tendencies knew no-forgivment; The rose never stopped believing, knew it couldn’t let the rest down, the little rose, was ambitious…. she, struggled but came up on-top. Her hair blows in the wind ever so delicately, her facial movement, original, her nails painted with great taste, her clothing, on-point – Her soul, knows no bounderies, her personality Flourishes – Her beauty, should be an icon, alike the rose….

Boo?

I see you for minutes; but never satisfied. I wish for the moments of the summer. Carelessly communicating for hours, as time passed, as the clock ticked forward, our heart’s locked, you’ve taken ahold. The warmth that surrounds us, will never distinguished, so i ponder, why i feel neglect… In time’s that i should feel loved  – sinking in sand; when i should be lifted –  You’re sitting upon a pedestal, above my sandy face. I’m sinking further, as the clock moves with sadness, the universe prays for my emotional-destruction; or do you? Bringing me near my knees, but NEVER kneeling; As i bring you to heavenly levels; You’re letting me be consumed by quickening, grave. Do you love me? or is there ‘fold around my eyes – analyzing incorrectly. The warmth that is within my body – is confused?

Crackhead

Men that grew up like concrete, became liquified.

Hard time’s hit, they were’t prepared, they were immature.

Their soul’s got black, their eyes hallow, their posture wrong.

They search, the darkness of the streets, for the future that was once promised.

They found a white rock instead, sent by the devil himself, wrapped in a future, that will never arrive.

streets take ahold, the crack pipe warmed, their eyes drip.

their lungs ache, their heart need ease, but all they see, is what they came to believe.

Within the future they see narrowly, at the end of this vision – there’s a door, key hidden out-of-sight.

The future within the rock, the door that has been locked.

One miserable time, and they soon became a slave, to what they’ve been desiring.

For their dream, their life fades, winter shall never be over.