My perfect soul.

She the perfect match;

Im not heightening a white flag.

To blow in the breeze of our past, waring love.

invisible bombs dropping in our heads as thoughts,

Tankful actions to betray me…

May the land minds of our words,

Self destruct, may the tank lose course,

May the spiralling bombs around us, to cease.

The end of our war, belongs to future loves.

May they be more understanding, less prideful.

May the war cease, the flag to hover whilst blue jay’s pass nearby;

May the sun set whilst you’re smiling in-front of him.

May your smile stay bold and flawless,

You deserve to be content, i do know.

I love you…

To lose your massive pride,

Would mean to me, that I’m worth it too, am i?

@vincecarre My writing instagram

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Book

As i go around the zombies – too messed up from her potions to think. Theyre pulling ideas out in a frozen mind, unaware im walking past, no thought train to conduct. Theyre not aware, of what they should do. As i move towards the housing complex, i see the witch staring at me, her dead gaze, cutting through.

As i remember the good times, seperating the potions that i conjured. I remember, thinking to myself, she looks so beautiful… i think too myself, while walking up the stairs. Is something wrong? Is she really trapped within, which is which – im starting to lose my memory of everything we did, talked about…

reality feels like its slipping. The area, seems fogged, hard to walk forwards, light shines from within the eyes, stars are present. The thinking slower…

The stairs are of metal, chilly, in these shoes… ice hanging from the small apartment-like unit windows. Frost consuming the floors. I walk upwards, during this large staircase… slippery to the feet. As i try to keep gripping and move up, i can hear the laughing from above, growing with strength.

I finally get to the top, shes standing infront. the 80’s wall paper – looks terrible… to the front as i look, she begins to project an image, of 4… they create a vortex, using her chilly breath – i cant tell which is which….

Love Her

She’s the sunlight, the moon and the star’s, too me she’s every kind of beautiful, perspective; complete, together.

She warms alike the sun, casts light in the darkness, and she’s my little star, bringing hope to myself. The mountains ive climbed to see the mix of completness. Was completely worth it, as i watch the scene, im stunned. How is she able?

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….

Love

She goes around warming peoples hearts, each heart, she sets afire a blaze that will last…. She creates examples of what it is to be human – to love, and be caring – they pass on her teaching’s.  
She’s the type that will sacrifice an hour of work for a 2 min reaction of happiness- she knows what its like to have nothing, yet have everything. So selfless, it shakes the greed out of the chilliest of men.

My Significant Other.

As the distance lengthens my love for you builds – rises – as the clock reaches the next hour – you’re always on my mind, the memories build – they level, they’re growing in emotional-strength, locking place within my life. my heart ascends and begins to plummet – I consider this distance. As the heart fluctuates, the time we’ve shared move my organ, in height. When it’s low, i feel sick, when it’s rising, the euphoria flows, happiness surrounds my mind, my heart, and my life….

My Momma’s roots.

the roots underneath the tree, help the tree develop, get nourishment, stay strong in the hard winter months. The chilly months would have stricken the trees potential, but the strong roots keep it stabilized, humbled. This root system, is along with the others, helping the forest, the whole of society. each root has a vital role. To help the tree survive and grow strong enough….. she’s the roots within my life, the backbone, the ever expanding strength that the tree needs to maintain it’s growth. She, needs the tree for her retirement… but the roots cannot see to the heavens alike the tree.

The Sea of Fluctuating Emotions

riding a wild wave, of beauty…. the emotions within myself run rampant, in all-directions… Happiness, sadness, neutralism. They spontaneously choose which direction to mold theirselves in…. to become… running through my mind with ease and growth, ever multipling… They’ll go near suicidal to complete bliss… fluctuating like waves within the sea… the fisherman around, see the great levels my emotions rise, and are completely content, knowing these emotions surround my mind, with ultimate freedom, and stealth…. They’re apart of the fisherman day, their months and years… because to them, these emotions are at one with what they know, the sea.

The Well Crafted Ship

Everything flows calmly and enjoyably… Freeing to be on open water… Catching fish, for nutrition – and employment. Coasting throughout the water mass. No thunderstorms are happening to it. Nobody feels hateful feelings towards the old ship for being what it is. They feel comfortable that it’s not sinking, and overwhelmingly sturdy… They’re perhaps happy the storms gave the craftsmanship of the ship plenty of character… most ships sit near the coast and rarely venture to the lengths this ship did… it overcame terrible circumstances… the water was unforgiving, it was harsh…. but the ship knows it’s a unique piece.. it knows there’s less of them, and it presents itself with a royal look…. but for now the ship is drifting upon the water like it never has, the sun’s out, the clouds have disappeared and there’s a rainbow in the centre of the lake.. but the clouds could come back and the ship can sink, so it has to experience personification with a hopeful perspective, or else it will collapse under the smallest of waves… it has to be strong and do what the others want to, getting off the coast. But the well built ship within the past is created to bare the strongest of pressure, when the waves hit… it just needs to believe that it’s created up-to-great standards.

lost love

she’s gone, the one who changed my life and bettered every-moment, went along with the spring weather. one last thunderstorm and she disappeared. leaving behind a trace of the things she loved, and enjoyed. her flowers, her womanly decoration’s – the things that i loved about her, her innocent thoughts with a smile that saw too much, that loved the world fiercely, of all things, of all people, lost. in the confusion of my mind i didn’t do enough, wasn’t enough, couldn’t be the man she wanted, i wasn’t suited to play such a role, to participate in her complex mind, where every mechanism that turns and runs efficiently, quickly and delicately – each piece rotate with ease and hopefulness. Rotating with a special magical essence locked within a oval wall of strength and determination – she was strong but had a scar across her heart that wouldn’t let in love (it SEEMS) even if i could climb her heart and post a flag within, encountering the top and burying a token of my being within, it may start a chain reaction of angriness and sickness, because if she could love a man like me, she would have given other men the chance, the opportunity to penetrate her most precious organ, encased in glass that’s ready to shatter at any moment, due to the fact that it’s fragile and should be treated with care – long-term, i’d screw up, id drop the box that holds her it…. thinking to myself, never enough, ill give everything but my anxiety will break apart whatever relationship, no-matter what happens, i gave absolute love my greatest shot… and it was not enough. how could it?