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2 AM Morning : Haunted Thoughts

I hear a howl Look out the window Find a shadow that calls Close my eyes shut Stay steady Breathing heavy.. Trying to flee while the howling haunts Gathered courage Starting to walk into the dark Where all things except you talk It's like the trees are staring down And the roads push you backwards So no matter how much forward you go You find yourself back at the same place Am I even walking right ? Your heart beats louder than the noiseless night Some car screeches at the background Echoing through the vacuum Is someone hurt ? There are looks in the dark That only books have spoken about There are looks behind you That only sniffing can rat you out The thought of being followed The thought of seeing the shadow of someone you don't want to.. Keep looking Don't be afraid Says the mind While your heart keeps saying Go home, and stay blind throughout the rest of tonight.. Speak to no one until asked Coz weak is never alone to be tasked The door closes on you Wondering why it c

There's not much

There’s not much for me..
As I could see.
Only the waves that left ashore..
Tides preceded to end it’s roar.
There’s not much for me..
As words felt blank.
Only by the grave to be rest assure..
Tears fled to bend the choir.
There’s not much for me..
But a glance next door..
At the forever friendly lad..
Who said you finally spoke I am glad.
There’s not much for me..
Only madness in store..
To keep breathing insecure..
While gripping on to a stranger feels pure.
There not much for me..
Only a tiny bird that sings in love..
Squeaked by a squirrel..
Get over it you aren’t visible as a dove.
There’s not much for me..
Only drizzles thundering rain clouds..
Distant giggles murmuring doubts..
That instantly might lead myself to fame.
Peeping through holes ..
Akwardly pronouncing my name.
There’s not much for me..
Since that life is gone..
When troubled by the stone..
Aimed it to break the river bone.
There’s not much for me..
A road driving home..
Keys unlocking storms..
Wrestling to open clogged up drains.
There’s not much for me..
Only stars that are somewhere outside.
Too far to catch them anyway..
Figurative forms of defining the milky way.
As night swallow the inside.
There’s not much for me..
But the whole sea..
Staring up to me..
While I embrace my face..
That got ignored for too long.
There’s not much for me..
Now I can’t make believe how..
It’s me who stands and talks..
It’s me who gets up and walks…
Stop pretending to be the shadow that stalks..
There’s a whole lot of me…
When you run into mornings..
While darkness lurks.


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