1. |
Subsistence
08:05
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Subdued and restless. Forcefully trudged along while accompanied by hysteria and nausea. Consumed by dolor, reminiscent traits of a life once lived begin fading. Confined to vague recollections and a bleak presence, I am defined by my newly found subsistence. Forced to capitulate and stifle ambition, I detach and withdraw. Crippled and maintaining minimal output, I resist all connection. Trapped as a silhouette in front of a screen, any semblance of community has been replaced by a pile of glass and aluminum.
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2. |
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Dawn of the morning that killed the world. Transparency, a window to Heaven mirrored an ocean below. Translucency, there was never a face that could be seen. White light flooded the brooding eye. The hands of youth severed at first breath under the delusive vault. Dusk of the evening that birthed the mind. The deceit of luminescence diminished at the rim of the Earth. An enveloping blanket swallowed the sky. The death of voice silenced heedless words, the death of vision blinded illusory existence. And from the blackness of the void, came the sound of a nostalgic melody, and the evocative glow of the sun. Behind the sheet of glass that separates mind from world, was the silhouette of a child. With lips bent and fingers curled, he peered through the window in dismay. Painted in the pupil’s reflection was a twin pair of apathetic eyes, gazing from the skull of a listless man, who incinerated the affirmation of time. Amidst the hallow walls of the ceaseless azure, a fleck cast a radiant sliver upon the dimming loop in the rhythm of infinity.
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3. |
Rust
11:25
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Everyday around quarter past three, you burst into the bathroom searching for me.
I'm hidden by your mother while you are away. She says you’re incredibly unstable these days. I feel your anger as your hand grips me tight. I am the only one that helps you sleep, like how you once used to. I live to reveal my strength as the scars on your wrist. I leave my marks in flesh and I'm proud of it. I watch patiently as the blood slowly drips. It’s so nice the way it runs from your fingertips. A sadness you cannot let go of. A choreographed ballet of sharp steel, dancing and sliding the right way, vertically up your wrists. A streak of rust and blood. You would be better off if you would stop procrastinating. Grab me and your liquid crutch. This is all you deserve. “Why do I keep waking? I am ready, please let me sleep.”
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4. |
Aqua
12:06
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Brain is the greatest torture house, I am no exception. Each wave comes stronger than the last. There are voices in the water, I hear your voice in the water. Black holes in space submerge my thoughts and memories. Panic begs for sanity, pain pleads for death. A nightmare dimension, devoid of time and reason. I may have been here yesterday, I may wake up tomorrow. There are faces in the water, I see your face in the water. Clock runs a final lap for a useless existence. I’m dreaming inside of a glass home. I’d like to feel the air, I’d like to smile once more. I don’t know what day it is, I am unsure of the season. There are children by the water, I feel you walking by the water. How cruel, how numb must you be to love on the floating blue, a dying spec of light.
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5. |
Into The Grey
13:05
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I want to return. Where have I gone? This pale, overarching shadow is not what I once lived. Dull, gray textures surrounds all peripheries. Who am I? This was not my intent. A once physical subsistence has now been superseded mentally and emotionally, or has this always been here? Have I been blinded by past hysteria? Clouded by hopes of resolution? I yearn to know what’s normal. Dreaming of vacating this desolate shade of gray, this cold, somberly body of apathy won’t respond. Dreaming of closure, dreaming a bright light.
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