Forgiving The Passionate Hubris

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Forgiving the passionate hubris

The least fractured figment of my ire

But I’m not competing for affection

Denounced for their fateful friendly fire

So I’m taking the eastbound train

To remove myself from the glitterati

The Urban gentry called for my death

Betrayed by those who are rash & haughty

The train tumbles on through the rain

Steaming towards the next Highland city

Needing a respite from those judgements

From the girls who love to be called pretty

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Sitting With Pirates & Thieves

 

Sitting with pirates & thieves

But you’re wandering about the old oak tree

You know you can never go home

Wishing for a life when you weren’t so free

You sold your precious soul

But there’s nothing left to retrieve

You’ll spend your ending days

Dying with those pirates & thieves

Anaïs Nin

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“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anaïs Nin

my shadow screams like a thousand suns

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my shadow screams like a thousand suns
a gorgeous woman leaves but asks why
the power is from the sea of black lights
some will have to vision my delicate sky
thinking manipulated the eternity of dreams
i am drunk, recalling moments, driving me to cry
death is an essential smell, pounding music watches
storms trudge on through, but i must try
water sweats as he falls in love with her
the mist under a pink rose petal shines like spring
ugly lust floods and i cannot swim
the smooth gown worships bare skin, as she sings