the words fall into place
interlocking
to create possible paths for my story of lines
i could chose the paved road of subtle rhymes
or continue onward on my route of senseless gibber jabber
linked by hazy memories
like sea glass and your face
to me mean simalar things
but to others they might think
the two are unrelated
so i write of broken dreams
and brood about the possible future
idly placing the dominoes of my life into place
and watching as the chain reaction of emotional instability,
trouble opening up to people
and heavy secrets
knocks over the block tower of my happiness
im left picking up the pieces
just so i can do it all over again
as things become twisted
and emotion falls into the same catagory as zuchini
i find pleasure in this self destruction
i don't care anymore
as things go numb
and my visoin becomes tinted
by the dark thouhgts behind the sockets of my eyes
and words come out in a torrent of backwards thought
feeling that was botling up inside
compressing into a bomb that only had so much more time
before it detonated
realed with no fatalities inside these flimsy papers
ink that bleeds into the next page
but keeps me happy with the knowledge that i can get this off my chest
words that flow into a muddled mess
but still relive the pain and stress of these words
there is nothing i expect
other than to stay on their page and hold up their meaning proud and tall
cuase im to tired to spell check so don't tell me my spellings wrong
this is random nonesense silly but i stil feel its meaningfiul to me
interlocking
to create possible paths for my story of lines
i could chose the paved road of subtle rhymes
or continue onward on my route of senseless gibber jabber
linked by hazy memories
like sea glass and your face
to me mean simalar things
but to others they might think
the two are unrelated
so i write of broken dreams
and brood about the possible future
idly placing the dominoes of my life into place
and watching as the chain reaction of emotional instability,
trouble opening up to people
and heavy secrets
knocks over the block tower of my happiness
im left picking up the pieces
just so i can do it all over again
as things become twisted
and emotion falls into the same catagory as zuchini
i find pleasure in this self destruction
i don't care anymore
as things go numb
and my visoin becomes tinted
by the dark thouhgts behind the sockets of my eyes
and words come out in a torrent of backwards thought
feeling that was botling up inside
compressing into a bomb that only had so much more time
before it detonated
realed with no fatalities inside these flimsy papers
ink that bleeds into the next page
but keeps me happy with the knowledge that i can get this off my chest
words that flow into a muddled mess
but still relive the pain and stress of these words
there is nothing i expect
other than to stay on their page and hold up their meaning proud and tall
cuase im to tired to spell check so don't tell me my spellings wrong
this is random nonesense silly but i stil feel its meaningfiul to me
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