misery loves companypromises become broken,misery loves company by UnderTheRaptures
like the shards you chase
you hear something in the distant,
(It's the jones)
inviting you over for tea and cake again
His RemainsAlone in the Shadow of God,His Remains by RobAllen23
He bleeds music into the darkness
From between layers of the past-
Mouths long forgotten words
Whilst staring into shop doorways
Where drunks dribble vomit
Into frozen crystalline mandalas.
His present is an intrusion,
A knot in before and after:
He is beautiful and terrible
In the deliberate forsaking
Of easy halogen comforts
In temples where we bow our heads.
Catching his voice
Whilst avoiding his eye,
Numb to the cold night airs
And lack of graces of passers-by
He sits. He waits.
Pursued by nature for this
Defiance of time.
I love him for his unnatural symmetry,
Eyes glazed like a lover,
Torn apart on the white teeth of trauma.
In the shadow of God,
The YoungeringDefine my Love, Luck and PassionThe Youngering by ihuuhi
by how much I try to repress the smile,
inflict me with your infinite-ton hammer,
smash my face into pieces and deny its
shards like you did before with your mirror;
the ever-unnamed who was always outreasoned
with authoritarian nonsense,
conquered with your truth; a poor universal
thought you misunderstood, raped and labeled
with your heavy burdening name, echoes endlessly
in its ears.
My every senses cave in, I am lethally
introverted, a self-experiencing haunter with
bottomless abyssal eyes thirsting for the
downward-berserking whitewater to swallow it all
up, let it all inside and through, then spiral out
its incomprehensible amount inversely, morph its
shapeless existence into delicious mist with
relaxing scent and count the particles; forming
childish number-geometry. We cheat and deceive
I always lose myself in misjudgements.
That is how You remove me from a boxful of probable
reality, You burn out my spotlights making me
HomecomingIt is not deathHomecoming by ihuuhi
we are afraid of,
It is the disturbing
warm tongue of our
ego drunk on self-deception.
The great father in green
cape always stands still
with arms open for salvation.
We are both removed from
the uncomfortable ticking,
planted far away from the
scene, analyzing it like an
outsider yet our focus is
kidnapped by the private
universes crushing brutally
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