Tag Archives: musewriter

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Memories and Reflections

12-12-13

Standing on the hill with a random breeze catching on
His strawberry hair ruffled and soft to the touch;
Succumbing to the force within the currents of the wind

The sun and the moon endure their usual aversion of each other
As they sit on their thrones to enjoy the splendor below;
Loving the thoughtless creatures of mortal limitations

Of this one in particular pretending magnificence

(As a peaceful representation of living in perfect harmony
and fighting the fear of indifference
while promoting beauty in the uncertainty,
or at least the everyday moments that the
World can be too busy to notice)

As the ordinary miracles catches his attention;
A man of notice and the gifts of perception

Breathing in the reality tasted by the events determined
From the recordings of the subjects in question;
Their memories and reflections of them

She’s Not Me
7-7-15

I heard all of the rumors and

The messages that she sent

I thought maybe I was her but

She showed me that we’re different

Her wounds bound her together and

Although they seemed similar

I knew that I was only myself, that

She was not me but someone else

Another drifter saying the same things

Thinking the same thoughts day to day

Except she claims to see more

As if she knows the future

Or maybe bits and pieces of our

Memories shaped together

Dagger
7-8-15

I’ve got the fire burning in my belly

My heart is pumping strong

There’s a few words I’ve been thinking

That lay balanced on my tongue

I thought you were my brother

I called you my best friend

But at the first chance you got

You shoved a dagger into my back
Supposed Friends

7-8-15

Calling all supposed friends!

Oh where Oh where have y’all been?

I’ve found myself among the wolves

Their howls keep calling me home under the moon

Have I died and been gifted a life reborn?

I woke up soaking wet and standing alone

Dripping droplets of their bitter scorn

Leaving puddles of poison on the floor

The grass is always greener in this war

Battles of greed to keep us wanting more

You can claim all of the fields of clover

A fake reign won’t live on forever

I am grateful for lost thoughts ❤

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A Bullet to the Heart

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I don’t know why we fall in and out of love

Humans hoard their vulnerabilities until they forget how to feel 
We gorge on the sensitivities of those perceptible to our eye(s)
Acting as a kitchen sponge rather than a breathing being
There are those who can love 
There are those who can be loved
Some people greedily accept whatever they can get
While others try to hold onto anything attainable
Fake smiles, lies, darkened thoughts, and mind fucks
Each skill handed off in this game of manipulation
She stole his heart so now he must go steal one for himself
It’s a dog-eat-dog world in this ‘spiritual’ madness
As all of the lost lovers gather together on the firing line;
A bullet to the heart is surely the only way to kill one’s afflictions
I don’t know why we fall in and out of love
I am grateful for the feelings of love ❤

Blue chair

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The floors are white
annoyingly so
Shining the reflection
of light
Into my eyes

The chair is blue
Rusted with age
Probably picked up
on the side of the road
Or given away

Soles of shoe
connect to the
Slippery surface
mirroring the ceiling
Disbelieving

Sitting down upon
seat in middle of room
With the glittery floor
and single object of
Furniture

Blue chair scuffs white
floor and rings out an
Echoing scream of
metal scraping tile until
Silence

I am grateful for silence ❤

The Rejects

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The rejects of a militaristic society
Graduates of a unified humanity, ostracized for their unique scholarly ambitions
Motivational questions?
Of knowledge, regardless of time and of place
Condemning the thoughts of these thinkers and establishing such creativity as the cultural group of a cliche form of crazy; or, identifying masculine as losing his “identity” of self
Their image reflected only from their own facial reactions seen from a glance in the bathroom mirror, oh the horror!
But what is right, that which is based on the very concept of what defines the plural wrongs in life
These views of the everyday normal and how awful that can be
What of this movement?
To live within the means of abnormality and the standard of the current teachings of normalcy and how it is expected to be, to mean
To understand the hidden meanings of the gifts we’re given in a time where anything is possible, or impossible not to believe
Any group of believers can learn enough to buildup empires of memories
And share them in glances of experiences and guidance.

I am grateful for a few days away ❤

Heartfelt Emotion

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Do I just sit and watch
As you force your hands on the driver’s wheel
Grabbing old leather that feels more comfortable in my hands
In my car,
I don’t need a chauffeur to escort, distort my view of the world
I know that when I stop searching
He will be here
I hate being patient, I hate being ignorant
But that’s what life is:
A waiting game
And figuring out who and what is worth any heartfelt emotion

I am grateful for patience, or at least the reminder of it every once in awhile. ❤

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