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Consciousness, a bleached murk
She finds herself in the arms of tribulation
Cuffed by lamenting darkness
Pursuing her like her shadow

She obeys

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A scattered void
Volatile and incohesive
She sheds what remains of her sullen skin, blue
Flesh and bones, grey
Deep and hollow
The tips of her fingers weep
As she becomes rather irrelevant
A vessel saturated
A melting pot of oxymorons
A juxtaposition of irregularities and discrepant emotions,
No, emotions are human
Ethereal, she is
A caliginous hollow projection

Sense is nonexistent where she dwells
The clock ‘there’ turns clockwise
The clock ‘here’ spins diagonally anti-clockwise
Now, she lurks beneath a perceivable shadow
Unfitting, idle, unknowing
Just so that she can pass as a living being

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For my brain has been

strained by dismay

and caught in a parallel universe,

governed by illusion

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The more you talk, the more my inner demons dance around in a field of razor-sharp cacti

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Careful
Don’t choke on your own betrayal
For I am loathing you in my own unique way

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Plead for my mercy - not -
For I have forgotten,
before I began to forgive

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"There’s salvation in admitting defeat"

- Yasmin Mogahed
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Intricately woven
Wicked schemes
Webs of despair
Rein her in
As she fights to find escape
Through microscopic incisions in the walls of a fortress within which she is confined

Jaded, she is
for she always reaches for happiness
when it automatically self-destructs

Patience, the scripture says
But she is depleted of all her will
Submerged under the shadows
She is darkness

…and nobody understands

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Will me to abide by principles,
in a maddening asylum we call life,
they live to the fullest,
while my demise is leaking hope
and my soul’s grasp is tightened on a bereaved memory
and as the last of my tears abandon my eyelids,

I signal my surrender

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The wind…the rain…walks along the lane The breeze…the beats…the puddles under my feet Inhale…exhale…the smile. It’s been a while

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"She impatiently awaits a plot twist,
in her sad excuse of a life"

-
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I am your close-minded conscience
your safety,
your warmth at night,

The one you kissed goodbye
and never looked back

So tell me, are your nights cold and lonely, yet?

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cartel:

The worst part about being there for everybody is that no one ever bothers to ask if you’re okay or not

(via silentlycry1ng)

Source: cartel
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When the words die out
I would have nothing to live for

For my tongue has dried out of emotions to taste
For your finger tips have already uncoiled from mine
Time stopped when you stepped onto the seat beside me and I felt your heat
You then walked out in utter silence
Wandering into a narcissistic limbo
and I froze in time

…my ink just dried