Captured

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Over and over, repeated re-injury of the senses.
It’s what we had.

Dressed in our despair, bonded by pain.
It’s what we shared.

We twisted and contorted, struggled further to gain control.
It’s how we fought.

Every prick of the conscience drained another abscess.
It’s how we learned.

Giving up was not an option.
It’s how we lived.

 

 

 

 

 

Smoldering

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The unaddressed haunts the vitality of the future.
A boiling, hot mess of resentment seething right below the surface.
Repetitively protecting the external while the red-hot hatred burns.
The barely suppressed rage remains coiled inside.
Implosion imminent.

Eventually, it will kill you.

Unoriginal

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My thoughts are unique or are they?

Am I an original or just a borrower from the inspirers of my past?

I fear the quality words will all have been spoken.

I wonder when it’ll all have been said.

Will my voice be muted before I die?

Before I leave my mark…

Open

 

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Lady Luck presents a life-altering prospect.
An enticing, not so subtle invitation.

A seductive and alluring treat.
Or a delicious deception?

Like a meet-your-maker kind of wile.

I want to get wet, and I think I might drown.

Teased by lousy timing yet it keeps me invested.
My head fills with rich fantasies, more possibilities awaken.

The proverbial juices are flowing.

The world is spinning on a new axis.

I’m confused.

But I’m open.