Break

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Straight sacred lines turn into cracks in due time.

All the  cracks will crawl straight to me.

They spread as roots from a tree spread into the soil.

Everything the cracks impose is unavoidable.

Going beyond; the cracks betray the line in the sand.

What was once sacred is nothing now.

Washed away from the massive gusts of rain and dust.

This cycle will never change.

The lines can never be filled; the breaks will never be repaired.

The worst has yet to come and I am not prepared.

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Let Me Out

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I’m stuck. Not just simply stuck.

How did I get this way?

I’m –> Struggling-Tattered-Unbearably-Clutching onto-Kindness

What else can I do? What else should I do?

I’m trapped within myself, trapped within you, trapped within them.

Don’t pity me, I don’t pity me. Can you help me?

Tied, caged, coraled, glued, pasted, chained, gated, drowning….

What does it feel like to feel free?

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Stretched- 5 haikus

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Life is filigree

Dark spots show more than light ones.

Sadness is my art.


Is life just a test?

If so, I’m sure I’m failing.

I can restart, right?


I don’t lie dear friend.

What I feel right now is real.

I feel nothingness.


Why do you smile friend?

What is there to smile about?

Please tell me dear friend.


My head is a mess.

Where do I even begin?

Sanity is gone.


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(You don’t have to do this alone… HELP is always within your reach!)

(Please help Depression Army and their noble cause!)

(All credit goes to the original owner(s) of featured image)

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7c8225dd25f0503d9f284cbdab8e457eI am colder than you could ever imagine…

I am not the soft sunlight you thought I was.

Death’s kiss isn’t cold enough to describe me.

When I see… I shroud my mind with mist…

When I bite… I burn my tongue… 

When I breathe… I rejoice…

When I embrace… I freeze into the stiff roots…

When I feel… nothing less of an empty void exists.

What am I to the heavens above?


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(all credit goes to the original owner(s) of featured image)

 

 

Soul Death Composition

Fallen_angelI have forgotten everything.

Existence itself has become ever so fickle to me.

What does this thing called existence mean?

I can’t remember anything beyond suffering.

My mind has forgotten what exists beyond the clouds.

Is there anything that exists beyond the clouds in my head?

I have forgotten what it was like to be me when I felt alive and whole.

I have been forgotten along with the many other broken souls who lie before me.

We have been left behind within the distant endless swirls of rusty grey dust and ash.

The composition of love is a complex concept for those who have sealed their hearts to avoid the cruel.

The formula of creating the death of a soul is the blackness from unforgiveness, hatred, and unrelenting malice.

Is there hope for the fallen? Is there hope for the broken? Is there hope for the lost? Is there hope for the lonely? Is there hope for the hated? Is there hope for the forgotten?

Yes.


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(NOTE: There is unity, comfort, and support that can be found by confiding in others. Don’t do this alone. You don’t have to do this alone. Help awaits no matter where you are in the world.)

(all credit goes to the original owner(s) of featured image)