those brown eyes ever so shining
they keep the attention of many
it’s a great power they hold
eyes in the league of fighters like pacquiao
those eyes and an heart of gold
a dangerous combo
they’re not a trap
but eyes of freedom
a deep rich tone
a perfect key to one’s soul
a brown blanket when it’s cold
a brown heaven for the purest
a brown kingdom full of muses
godly brown eyes
even in the darkness they
radiate to the fullest.
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What I was.
What I was isn’t me now.
Broken, that is what I am now.
A shattered thing, with no soul left.
Eyes drawn half shut as sleep demands I cede my mind to it.
Permanently.
But I refuse, too stubborn to die today.
.
.
.
Though, on second thought, perhaps I should close my eyes.
Never forced to anguish at the dawn’s call, upon a Monday.
Or to force myself up before the sun cared to do the same.
I’ve grown to hate the flowers and sunsets and the bittersweet taste of sugar.
I think I used to like it.
That was part of me.
A child, one with little wit for the terrors of life ahead.
.
.
.
The longer I go now the harder it becomes to keep myself from that ledge.
I nearly did it too, twice in the same night.
Yet I didn’t.
I sit here to relish in my own misery.
These things I’ve tried, medicines, treatments, plans.
The damned fluoxetine, CTB, or weekly meetings.
None of it works, not anymore.
They say it’s because I’m not trying.
I say that when I tried it only got worse.
They politely call me a liar, and we go on with our lives.
Me falling apart ever more, and they with my picked pocket.
.
.
.
I was a boy, once upon a time.
A stupid little boy.
Who’d run around telling smarter people they were wrong.
I still get to tell people their wrong, though they lack the mind to understand why.
He thought there was no limit to what could be known or done or dreamed.
I still dream, though they feel like nightmares now.
He got mad, he wrongly displayed, sure, but he hardly knew better.
I still get mad, I break things.
I miss those days.
What I wouldn’t give to go back there.
Childhood.
It’s right there, I can see it!
But it’s gone now, separated from me by the ever growing seas of time.
I regret not using my time to learn.
I regret not having learned to draw when I had a steady hand.
I regret refusing to learn to code because it was too difficult.
I regret not having fun.
I spent my time alone and bitter about it.
No, instead I spent it afraid of my inner self.
Cause I wasn’t free of self-loathing, was I.
I’ve always had it.
Creeping over me, seizing my body out from under me.
It was just a matter of time until it fell.
.
.
.
What was I?
I was growing up.
I might be different than most.
But I’m me, for better or worse I suppose.
And when I ask myself, would I do this all over again?
I can’t say I wouldn’t.
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To the trickster i fell in love with.
I didn’t fall in love with you, I walked into love with you with my eyes wide open and a heart full of happy feelings.
choosing to take every step along the way and enjoying every moment of the beautifully chaotic journey. Walking amongst the stars with you,
The stars of Chaos, Realization, Change and Rebirth.
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I'm holding my breath. No, I'm not underwater, and no, I don't have the hiccups. I'm holding that breath in deep. I'm swallowing as much as I can, I'm taking it all in before you take it away from me. You leave me breathless. When you walk away the oxygen will be stripped from my lungs, you'll suffocate me.
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