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When You Start Growing

I will tell you life is hard, and laugh right back at you... I will tell you crying makes it uneasy, and smear the tears I will tell you I have met eyes that never smile  I will tell you I have met loneliness that doesn't speak at all I will tell you I have sat in the same room where life felt empty I will tell you I have sat looking at someone who just doesn't want to go home  I will tell you relationships are hard, and will hold your hands right away I will tell you cold shoulders are greasy but it's the intense warmth that makes you shiver I will tell you I have met people for who love was the only thing until they picked being lonely I will tell you relationship devors decorum like a wolf feasting on fresh carcass I will tell you vultures gather to eat what pains the most, yes the lost ones I will tell you dark is hard, but directions are easier when unseen I will tell you what itches me is constant pain I will tell you how naked I am in reality but no one wants to see

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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