Annasiel's Portfolio

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Annasiel
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Posts: 4832
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 6:40 am
Gender: Female
Location: Somewhere grey and full of ghosts.
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Re: Annasiel's Portfolio

Post by Annasiel » Fri Dec 14, 2018 9:06 am

Do I know why I'm crying
Do I even want to know -
To have one more thing to hold above
Look and see -- just look at me
And give your pity, give your hope
Warmth and honest-meant intentions
Sat on sugared tongues - I fear
Or maybe wish, it isn't clear yet
Which of the two are dearer held
Take myself -- a spectacle of bruises
Gaze upon the works of life born bare
I can tell you think me nothing
Is nothing really more than I deserve?
I lust for condolences --
Compassioned eyes in which
A bitter waif reflected - no more meant
To present myself as such, and nothing less.

Is nothing really more than I deserve?
It's what I leave myself
An emptiness I gladly show the world
To fill with kindly-spoken, swindled words.
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

User avatar
Annasiel
Administrator
Posts: 4832
Joined: Mon Jan 23, 2017 6:40 am
Gender: Female
Location: Somewhere grey and full of ghosts.
Contact:

Re: Annasiel's Portfolio

Post by Annasiel » Fri Dec 14, 2018 9:18 am

This is not a cry for help
I'm drowning on dry land
And though my lungs -
Bereft of water
Burn and quake
- I will not take your hand
I'll hold it fast and pull myself
Deep into the ground
A dim-lit place -
The darkness blinds me
Turn it off
- I wish to not be found and found
And
Something in me
A voice that is my own
It claims to mine -
Imposter's words
Spoke from my thoughts
- And I reap what those thoughts sow
Not mine
Mine forever
All alone - yet
Still together
Save me from my
This is not a

This is not a cry for help

I only want no help to find myself
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

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