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Norbert Tasev Mar 19
Who else remembers the faithful, friendly handshake, which we used to give each other a gift of each other as the pledge of possible adult lives?! Next to our eyes, the raven-born, attractive little hind legs are trembling, while our thinning hair, which began to be bald, testifies to decades of turning reversal.

In the harbor of the sea bays, Lorelalay fairy shape, unfolds his long hair, on which the water drops are still trembling as the pearls of real beads, and his superstitious gaze still says, "Don't be afraid of anything! I will save from all the Galad -Komis troubles that this traitorous world will deliver to us!

This is how the exclusion of conscious loneliness was once; When we thought we were eternal childish, adolescent, that the so-called. Absolute adults can never speak anymore because it does not belong to them. And while the soft heads were overgrown, and some of their children were born, somewhere that little man had a far away, and on the jersey of the cooked weekdays, fearful, we can hear his child -mouthed intellect.

The deeply hidden silent man was unexpectedly knocked, and while he was hesitant, we were stuck on the chessboard of the capitalized life: that we should go where we should go or just happen to be happy and happy.
greatsloth Mar 18
You see words the same way I do,
With eyes that glow in yearning,
With heart bursting at the seams—
My comrade, you are.

We traverse these dimensions
Of black and white,
Where the smell of papers
Lingers into our lives.

Each smile is a memory,
A dream or an adventure;
We have bonds beyond reality
More precious than any treasure.

It is carved deep into our marrow,
Identical to the myths that we hallow,
The moment you read any prose,
Fate binds us as fellows.

Your mind and my mind
Like God's hands they intertwined,
Creating myriads of realities
That only we could realize.
Made for the AB month of our college.
Norbert Tasev Mar 18
He was deeply concerned about this step -by -step, apocalyptic earth order. Invisible, infectious, circling atomic jets are pregnant fruits and vegetables. From the harons of the rotten furrows, even the gillys and worm-fenes have long been extinct or fled. They took their tent pain like some. Modern man, with modern digital drone tools and the needle-pointed destinations of target designs, still crafts his fellow human beings.

Spirally wrapped in snake -like maze -feared -no longer and may not be a solution; Others dictate not only the statutes of the game, but also -perhaps -in the earthly confusion, the mere existence of existence. In the gray prison of concrete frame, even the smell of formalin is stagnated and degraded into an increasingly unbearable nausea.

The robe of wounded souls is now increasingly ravens to tear, wrinkles, as if it were a bunnied Prometheus who could never be rid of underworld vulture, stolen the fire for the withered people. As an uninvited guests, Katyusa was wandering around, bombshell, while a crumbling machine is screaming into the melodies of the Ruttering Winds.

The replaced, former childhood dreams are now criminal on the appealing hanger of life to you. They still wanted to dream of a livelier future, but maybe hopeless; Pale cheese-moon would illuminate the messages of mystical flyers with Pisla tiger nails ...

A tiny, innocent lie is enough for someone to press that particular red button, and while life is so fragile as the grass that nature or human feet can be trampled at any time, we hang on to be tolerated, forced on the degree of chessboard, either straw or waxy, inanimate!
Que Mar 14
who sanctioned these tears?
i might drown.
my body is not strong enough
to carry the weight
i drag myself down.
there's whispers, slight tremors
of what ailed me.
vibration inadequate to challenge
what failed me.
am i good enough?
or does the silent screaming
distract too much?
ask for too much?
Que Mar 14
Coffee in the ashes
a chaotic tragedy
teetering on the edge
of infantile sanity.
clawing away at what hindsight gave me;
what the mishaps shaved from me.
and you keep coming back
like a perennial gunshot
to the barricades i put up.
Que Mar 14
what I would do
here reminiscing in your shadows.
faint laughs wafting: sweet gestures taunting.
I crave what was
I cave from what is.
call me mentally weak
but I doubt anyone else
would've lasted this long,
cried this hard, held on this strong.

what i could do
with your tone piercing my sanity
I long to be cherished
and seen
not tolerated or screamed
at like a dog.

what I should do
just waiting to spring from my tongue,
boundaries like flowers
I never watered;
sun-dried and half-withered.
Que Mar 15
cease my dance and ask why I don't smile
I've laid down my wants and needs
I've ignored what I know to be true
all so you could have your throne.
drowning in a pool of my self-loathing
and you want to see me splash, perform
all I am melting down to be bite-size for you.
breaking down to my nerves and fibers,
cause you want to see me rip myself to shreds.
you want me in a corner so I won't call for help
isolated from everyone who cares so I won't
tell anyone how I really feel
no space in your arms, I feel heavy in your heart
I've crushed myself like a soda can
no air, no light, no exit art
take this sadness for what it is
wishing I'd only parted from you then
"thus much let me avow"
you killed what good I had left
bruised the happy I should have now
decay replaces the once vibrant green.
poised at the ready to take one for the team.
selfish as it may be, I can't breathe.
Que Mar 15
perfection is hard when you're not
it bolsters confidence but proves nothing
still average but now everyone can see
im just here running away from me.

aren't I pretty, sometimes refined;
a whole vibe check inclined
with riddles, jokes, and poems on a dime?
Que Mar 15
i shatter with the slightest nick
a vase teetering on the edge
waiting to spill over, the next avalanche.
i bruise with the wind:
my attempts never severe enough.
maybe i want to be saved,
maybe i've already given up.

the tide holds no grudge against the moon for dragging it.
Que Mar 15
there's an evil in my heart
it sings malice
and cries for help bvut no hears
she calls for revenge
and bleeds for the truth to be revealed
there's an evbil in my heart
that i cant let go of
until karma sets you ablaze
until the universe gives you back
all that youve given me.
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