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Literature Text
A watchful eye
lingers in your
corner, dwelling
upon the essence
of your elegance.
Oh lustrous deity,
a fear encompasses
my weary heart,
a fear that you will
distance yourself
from my open door.
So swiftly does the
wind blow it shut,
forever blinding me;
no longer may I
behold thy beauty.
-Brian Shuffett
July 30th, 2010
lingers in your
corner, dwelling
upon the essence
of your elegance.
Oh lustrous deity,
a fear encompasses
my weary heart,
a fear that you will
distance yourself
from my open door.
So swiftly does the
wind blow it shut,
forever blinding me;
no longer may I
behold thy beauty.
-Brian Shuffett
July 30th, 2010
Literature
Digging my grave again
I know there is sorrow and violence within my soul.
And deep in the arms of my sins,
I cry within the darkness I have created all on my own.
Tilling my own grave once more.
Feeling my arms ache with exertion.
Needing to breath and be set free.
Over and over again I cry.
Thoughts overwhelming me.
Depression killing me.
Desperate.
Needing.
Life fuels the fire that feeds my soul.
And nothing fits together.
Confusion within my darkened void.
Hurt in my veins. It keeps pulsing.
Poisoning me, breaths in my chest get harsher.
But Life keeps filling my soul.
but my heart feels hurt.
And its hard to feel strength inside anymore.
Le
Literature
Bittersweet
"Darling, what makes you love me?" The question is so simply stated, in her purple velvet voice, as she reclines in his strong arms, and lets the bittersweet smoke caress their limbs, pulling them closer together.
His long inhale, as the toxins coat the soft tissue of his black lungs, is audible, as he mulls over the question before answering.
"I love how you can make insanity look beautiful." He states, recreating the day he came home, in his mind. The day he found her telling stories to the static on the television. The day he started to question if his joking label of "crazy" may possibly ring true.
"I love how I can tell when you're ha
Literature
Death.
It took some time
To convince myself
That you don't exist.
The laughter,
The anger,
The sadness that secretly consumed you.
Everything that made you,
Doesn't exist.
The fear in your eyes,
The cuts on your body,
Hands clenched, gasping for air while
The drugs soared through your veins;
The hospital,
The funeral,
The burial
All of that was real?
The smile that could span miles,
The glazed eyes that told so many stories,
The creative mind that once captivated the world
doesn't exist.
And all that's left are the memories
That torture, consume and, on occasion,
Bring joy to my mind.
It's all surreal
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For once I would like to see something become what I wish it were to be. How egotistical of me, yes! However, is it so wrong to wish for companionship, to have someone there by your side? My heart is not so black that it merits an eternity of solitude.
Man's reach exceeds his grasp.
-Nikola Tesla
Tonight my head is full of wishes
and everything I drink is full of her.
-Katatonia; Tonight's Music
Man's reach exceeds his grasp.
-Nikola Tesla
Tonight my head is full of wishes
and everything I drink is full of her.
-Katatonia; Tonight's Music
© 2010 - 2024 bshuffett
Comments57
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you need a compilation; a book to sell! i think it would do very, very good.