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Cackles.From.A.Mad.Duck

'Who am I' she asks : A creative explosion of paradoxical remarks the student replied.

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Charged

hands-felix

How emotions get the better hold of us, I’ve always thought
I’d see it coming but it catches me by surprise
at every turn, I begin to think it can’t be possible and yet still
you persist in my thoughts. “I’ve got to stop now,” I say
so, until time brings you closer again.

Bend

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If it’s indeed true that the outset of our thoughts
brings about real life consequences, such as told
being the law of attraction, then it must be true.
My thoughts would have brought you here. A slight bend
away ago you may have passed me by, but if it’s indeed true
of the infinite ongoing parallels of time and reality,
this crevice in randomized time was the beginning of
your realization in my life.

Remember

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Letting go of your hand, I felt fear
In case you would forget me, long after I
Had already begun to move on.
“Why do you think we want to be
Remembered?” You asked once before.
I stopped making believe
Of our fake dialogues since
I can remember.

The Return

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I spoke too soon when I
Called it a backslide,
In case you were worried
I realized what this has been.
“I’ve always been here.” You simply
Didn’t see it
So don’t be surprised by the
Return
Of who we are.

Imaginary

Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals

I realize I am laughing aloud, turning
around to see the room in the background
of my peripherals, you still exist
In conversation, even as I know better
than to stop believing.
None of this is real I realize, and I think of how
true it is that we can live infinitely against the world,
safely inside the asylum of our imaginations.

A Gift

I want to ask but quite sure nobody knows,
What the silver lining is between beguiled oblivion and the odd sentiment
of love.
Is it between kindness?
Between the sheets of our conscience or even
The braided steel of our pride that makes it so
Compelling to reject ourselves from what we know
Is best; the question is, why
Do we all agree on a universal sage of unabridged pacifism
Yet the simple gift to be hurt
In honest truth, is felt
With no less integrity of our most sincere reflections
To show our jarring insecurities, is a bravery
Shunned for bravado,
Better coined for low key insanity, you named it
Only better known for what most placates me
And that was to give you the best
As a gift

 

Dreamscape Therapy

dreamscape-therapy

“You don’t understand the gravity inside a dream
Your subconscious would think it is like Peter Pan – just believe
And yet you don’t fly on sole belief…it is something else that makes you run away.”
“What were you running from?”
“This school…that was wrought with the self righteous echelon that exists in life.
I was granted to fly on a  carpet, and I was laying upside down atop it when I came through the principal’s office
And as if their mere presence did it, I felt my backside against the rooftop shingles.”
“Did they stop you from flying?”
“They did.”
“How do you think they did that?”
“I remember the vice principal woman said, ‘—– You can’t do that, honey, you’re falling.’ and there I was, sliding off the roof top.”
“What happened then?”
“I ran out into the street trying to pump belief of flight but it wasn’t taking, so I ran between cars and side streets to avoid them catching me.”
“What do you think would happen if they caught you?”
“They’d drag me back into the school.”
“Is that really so bad?”
“Yes, it’s where dreams die.”

What You Know

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“Because when you meet someone prospective, you become curious
To dive through their archive, a token treasure trough of who they once were
Despite what you may know, or come to find out
In fact they were far from they are now, and far from one you would love,
Only then you’d seek to ask yourself whether this was for better or worse
In finding ultimately more of yourself, for turning a blind eye
Or to laugh at what may have been many moons ago, as you were
And forgive us for what we’ve done.”

The Future

eyes

He was all just skins and bones, crouching before me
The toughened elbows of a 12 year old boy propped on his knee
With eyes that glowered instead as a man, I thoroughly believed him when he said,
“You and I, we are the pioneers of the world.”
Though we were but children hiding in our dug out
When they ask me today where he has been since, I can’t answer
Without coming back to this image of our defiance
Almost the perfect way to summarize what I’ve been meaning to say
As a farewell eulogy for his entombment in my mind

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