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Where everything flows withoutI dont know what to say
I dont know what to do
basically i am stuck in this river
where everything flows without you
the river flows without you
people say you were a great man
a man of word, a man of peace
a man with fire who lunged without greed
maybe somewhere you left yourself
and walked a path among the rest
now you're an empty soul
without the desire to become the best
maybe you're an insufficient bastard
who left others when you had the laughter
and now you are in desperate need
for no one will come and rescue
where everything flows without you.
Time flies by and distances creep inside
No time has ever been left without your soul realize
in me I have found you, your love has no boundries
I cry in the sadness without your presence
without life, without love, without any vengeance
I kiss you goodbye, my sunshine lover
I have waited long enough in this empty summer
I abide everything, please do remember
our love did not last like it should have lasted forever
wrote this for a competition for the theme "Grieve and Leave"
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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