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

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.

Creative: The Troops Around The Heart

My heart was wrapped within tin foil and was ever expanding, and heating with ease…. now it isn’t captive once more, it’s freshly escaped and on it’s own… the warmth is leaving, the beauty within is disappearing. It’s free to be where it wants, with who it wants… but still, it thinks of her, and the greatness it once felt under her authority. It wanders the land, with selflessness and warmth… but the warmth cannot be returned, can’t be restrained for long. i had another temptress, another great girl, that only wanted what she could take, rather than me. I’m broken and guarded once more. I wanted her within this life, she wanted temporary satisfaction and currencies to better her life… while bringing my being down quite drastically, while lifting the ego. I feel used and taken for granted once more. around my heart are troops stationed within a watch-tower surrounding the premise with strength and hostility…. never letting another around once more…. my heart beats a sweet song of all that it’s encountered… let in, and taken apart. Set on fire, and then stomped on… because my heart is a game to most, another treasure discarded in the sand, never to be held for the right reasons again.

My Choice

The days are passing quickly, the trees are leafing well…  Where there was snow and chilling, there’s now, flowers, the ice has turned to a river, the sun begins to show earlier… my emotions seem constant and better than before… I look in the mirror and my reflection begins to feel like my own… my actions feel myself, I look to God, but never thank him, because to me, it feels like he’s given the worse, and he’s tested me… so i blame myself, because at the end of the day we have free-will, we have choices and our actions are often our own… when i had nobody to look to, to turn to, i saw God hovering above me and making my days worse, he often felt devilish… to give him what i earned, isn’t me. I gave him enough praise… As i walk my path i see all those who used and abused me, they’re grinning when they should be sympathetic, but that’s not them. they’re heavenly teachers. The devils minions… They’re hardened and soulless, because to them i’m a piece to be moved, a body they want to cut-off. To them i’m nothing, but to myself I’m my greatest teacher, my only God. And that’s the way it should feel and be, because when we start giving our accomplishments over to anyone, then we’re supporting something we can’t see, and subjecting ourself to insecure patterns, words, character.