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I don't want to love you anymore
But it's so hard to rearrange
I don't want to be a prisoner
To all these things I cannot change

I don't want to hurt, I don't want to cry
Or long for the sound of your voice
I don't want to live my life like this
You have left me with no other choice

I don't want to miss you every day
The way we kissed, your playful grin
I don't want to want to hold your hand
Or yearn for your lips to touch my skin

I don't want to feel sad all the time
Struggling each week to make it through
I don't want to lock myself in my room
Sobbing while clutching pictures of you

I'm a slave to my own emotions
And all the things we cannot be
I'm locked inside the pain I feel
You are the one who holds the key
Pain really is a prison
Captured in the wood;
the boy turned to spy  
the gang of satyrs
charging;
fleeting wings caught
in the branches;
arrows flying
like stinging wasps;
her gigantic feet steps
among them;
the satyrs flee leaving
the nymphs  
Aphrodite then feeds
to her precious Cupid
the pleasured thrills of a
une liaison dangereuse
the mystery du triangle hypoténuse

two open, unended lines attached
to make a so interesting right (wrong) angle,
mais sans l'hypoténuse leur est pas de connectivité

indeed the hypotenuse hypothetical is crack for my brain
imagination steel furnace fired, molten are my fingers
as they trace the line you left for me on your body

to adore to cherish to lick to follow an arrow pointing
where?

to the heavenly pleasures that earth reside
in our differences substantial
which intrigue rather than
divide

opposites attract is true and not,
we could be
we could not be more unalike
that so excites for dreams only I can uncover
in the rounded shape  of thine wide eyes

a horrific inserts
she is only teasing me

but the need to dance on the brink
the fulfillment that origins in a need perpetual
is the one that satisfies because it cannot
be fully satisfied

if you know this need, then you are mine bonded

beyond is at where the hypotenuse connect our lines,*

"we'd be beyond human,  beyond poem, beyond horizon,
beyond stars and black holes and daisy-chains and metaphors
with  nothing to say to say to an end, because it goes on, my dear,   -- I'll see you at the brink...dance with me there"
a woman in the shape of a young girl,
her eyes wider than a grand boulevard,
who writes me in scattered verses I can’t comprehend
takes my hands in the metro on our way to
St. Germain-des-Pres, where she will make confession
she loves another, forgetting that was her first reveal
and why I now laugh/love her maintenant, plus complètement

<•>
un jour je vous enverrai un message au parc Monceau à 1500 heures; être prêt
 Feb 2018 anastasia nikos
Seema
Tempest triumph turmoil tomb
Seeketh life or seeketh whom
Ashes, bones lay beneath me
Humble yourself, so you can see
A wide range of locus holograms
Pinched around like metal prams
Escape none to route a way
Knuckles grit, sinking everyday
Dark puffed, stuffed grey matter
Auction solidarity is no better
Speech of silence, clouds of rain
Piercing pledging pleading pain
Thy grace, I praise as heavens open
Not above but a voice has spoken
Walk the steps downs, the voices called
Come to us, you belong to our world
Pushed dragged and pulled a few miles
Clowned faces, greet with smiles
Mummified shrouds hang like dolls
Eyes spring out like the tennis *****
Dredged with stinkful skillful spills
Rainbow colored infinite pills
Wide-eyed blinks match the flurocent
Contour light lights up the magnificent
Bridges burn birthing ashes
Torn ripped ***** worn sashes
Two hands praying, Lord save our nation
Two legs walk, it's another fashion
Rotten forgotten the limpage lives
All hands stuck in the money hives
Online tariff tragic traffic terror
Highlights viral vital error
Known unknown captured in doubts
Strapped bodies spillage by mouths
Shots of needles through my veins
End of life, foregone with pains!


©sim
Spilling thoughts.
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp ***** prison
Where the executioner's face is always well-hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my song well before I start singin'
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
 Feb 2018 anastasia nikos
L B
Could the sun be
    just
    a hole up there—
    that if I could leap
    would enter that breach of light

Someone!
   Throw me a line!
   Give me a reason
   There’s never enough
   in this life of breathing!

Someone!
   Explain why dreams roll a soul
   toward the cliffs of day
   Wakes to ache
   then stuffs its mouth
   with necessary same
  
Inhale—
   button shirt—brush hair
Exhale—
   necessary glance in the mirror
   (yes, still there)    

A lifetime!
   in a shallow instant’s stiff clear water
   (Yeah— still there)  
   in endless caverns of tired eyes
   above mouth still trying
   to say SOMETHING!  
   from ever smaller eternities
   in the glass-flat empty....

Please! Someone explain!
   this draw of breath
   one forcing itself upon another's
   life
   of beating —
   Violence in my chest!

Why hearts don’t sleep—

and I wind up watching
again and again—till
I am the ******...

...Morning lies
   in the mists of a humid *****
   who moans and sweats
   and boils her hips—
   and I wind up watching!?

“Will someone please…!"

   ...and I wind up watching
   bedspread, bed sore, death bed
   till you’re breathing easy
   when she sits and picks
   her collapsed bouffant
   damning the makeup
   that got crushed in the sheets

…Morning
Lies--

   with no expectancy
   both tired of knowing...

   ...The Devil lost his balance
   in my presence one night


...tired of knowing—

THE WILL!  
THAT WILL!

  ...walk away
   or continue to play

   I could open this screen!
   watch the world STEP BACK!
                                 SLAP FLAT!
   as trees and dwellings flush like quail
   to prop their tottering panic
   against the blue—

You—assume composure...
   compose assumptions
   Await my next—

Move like a spy
1990
Why I don’t play chess or any other game
for that matter.    
    
“...and when you're really out there
the windows all have opened onto nothing...
Death having long since-- left the scene.
When you get really out there
it's all--
and nothing…”
I am part of this barren landscape.

Plain and transparent.
Endlessly incoherent.

To the shadows and coolness, I wish I could flee.
Sadly, I’m trapped in the centre, with neither a soul or anyone of my breed.

Lost and isolated from the world, or at least a few.
I long for the moment when I can start living anew.

Shrouded in heat; thoughts I cannot rid myself of.
Not even a single heartbeat could I ever hear of.

Alone, desolated.
Alone, devastated.
Alone, frustrated.
Alone, my hunger never sated.
Alone…



I
Am
Not
Alone
Anymore



Together, elevated.
Together, saturated.
Together, integrated.
Together, my hunger always sated.

Unified…
I adore you.
I adore us.
I adore we.
I adore men.
I adore women.
I adore…
I…
I can't say...
That I hate you
I can't say...
That I love you
Cause
I'm in between both.
Either way it's only you!
Inspired by a drama- IPKKND
Here in the world of dark and deep...,
Offer me the undisturbed eternal sleep...
The harder you try but unable to peep...,
Don't want I to show you my scars and grief....
Preserve your presence as I'm unable to keep...
Lake, Ocean, Sea..tears are in all seep...,
Forgotten the present,unaware of need...
Optimization of memory and  your talks that creep..,
Searching you in all dreams and deeds...
Beatless by heart, life growing reminders that feed..,
No peace, instability and and powered by oversleep...
#Extract # you
# memory # you
# cure # you
And this you is my hope.
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