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Fractals (Poem Pieces) - Poetry Group

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i am you,
the one on a side-street outdoor cafe,
sipping hot-brews and molding to the world,

you are me,
hanging on the thread of every word,
needing each word to survive,
to breathe -

the world spins around us, and we are them -
they who are chameleons ever changing -
our souls are a collective of shattered glass
to a broken mirror

each of us a puzzle piece trying to fit together,
yet the mirror breaks effortlessly, constantly
a reminder that without the resin of our souls -
you and i are strangers eternally
30 pills gripped tight in the
palm of my hand,
each filled with a question;
answers i can't understand
did things i can never take back,
i guess that's fine, maybe even sublime -
regrets are the things that teach you a lesson,
so heed everything, even give a listen,
the worst of things can only make you stronger,
if only these pills didn't weight so much -
maybe i'd believe these words I'm spittin'
just quittin', life's killin'
i'm sick to my stomach
ragged skin runs against the flat surface
dead-weight, unmoving
faint breaths are a tender song,
a hum of sorts -
sensation unyielding beneath claw
envisioned in a kaleidoscopic whir
as the earth spins never-ending -
gravity pulls and pushes akin
to a universal lover, shape and
form is lost in technicolor -
this senseless need
of a most verbose sensation,
the mind speaks in fragmented tongues
coded languages digitized, desensitized -
curled in fetal position innocence
to jaded eyes opening,
the beginning of an end,
i start again
we once spoke of a fleeting
fancy, material essences
to satisfy a hunger -
our vices spurn from the
gardens of Gethsemane -
where the trumpets sound
of a second-coming -
we are doomed to be
the slave of our desires,
the eternal realm conspires,
we must whisper of our fleeting fancies
infinite summers thrusts the soul
into divine self discovery
pain is the sage's cure to understanding
the finite still-life of picturesque
imagery surrounding
naive youth pilfers from the
scum of all that is wrong -
mirror image pond, look at yourself
our own terror looks back with
red paint smiles, and evil wiles -
the truth must be found in the core
which spins of all things vice and purity,
find yourself in the pulse
of this heart where freedom beckons


Why Is It called The Poem Pieces Danaea ? Just asking

Coz they are in different paragraphs ?

Anyways , It is great ! ! !



Indeed, diff paragraphs, diff pieces...all from one place.
Thank ya kindly :] I appreciate you taking the time to read.


words cannot describe... the emotions you evoke . . .

lovely artwork darling


so vivid and surreally real

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