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….

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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….

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?

Deep sadness

My emotions descend to a depth, i’ve never witnessed. They cast within, as poison within a pit of my stomach from my mind, causing me to vomit, the toxicity in the mind multiplies and causes me to lose my current perspective, I begin trying to take grasp of reality, it fluctuates – deep hatred-heavens; destroying my once healthy body.  They stick, my mind can’t go upwards – at some level i feel i deserve pain, which keeps me low. I hyperventilate, but can’t catch up to my normal rhythm. Everything i’ve grown to love, about myself, feels shattered. The mirrors within my thought chain, bounce my thoughts from within, and create a phantom-curtain, that picks up the previous identity, throwing it. My confidence dances away with strength and musical, beauty, playing to an old skipping record – as my thoughts try to find hope, negativity skips with positivitey, briefly – of a destructive classical masterpiece.

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.

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.

Fighting Depression

Negative thoughts scream a terrifying battle cry. Warning the positive thoughts there isn’t enough room for the both of them. The positive thoughts let off a more fierce battle cry, shaking the skull. Rippling the thoughts, The thoughts fight, for their own purpose – The healthy thoughts, fight for confidence, the negative fight for destruction – Positivity Increases in power, and begin knocking the deadliest of the thoughts, the thoughts begin circling the brain in a, stormy battle. that will kill off the lesser. The thoughts fight one-another for hours, until the positive thoughts gain leverage – beginning to gain strength, and slowly, the brain adjusts, it gains, and finds a euphoric happiness. The thoughts translate, good to bad. And this battle is won….

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….

The Devil that plays the Guitar of an Angel

Coasting the clear sea, I take-out my binoculars. as i’m looking thru – there’s a lovely song playing, with a guitar – Within the scope i notice a lovely woman playing this, the clock turns and eventually i get to the island, tie my boat, there’s a rope that’s been lit with a light – i think to myself strange, as i continue along the island, the music gets more aggressive; and lovely – The sky turns a dark colour, as begin to walk the island the music influences my body. I begin gravitating to the music, it’s vibrations so meaningful, pleasant, unique. My body shifts left-to-right, i begin to feel euphoric, the music is alike a drug. It separates my soul from my body – her character. My body peels from my bright soul – The music takes ahold more, i can feel the vibrations so deep within, my spirit quickly shoots towards the instrument, i feel the control take affect, my spirit shakes, I can feel my body die… I can feel the scratching of the strings on the piece. I begin seeing 360 degrees, just then my soul gets captured within the red guitar…