Planked blankly in perfect vespertide
A body aloof its time
Desperate hands ached to embrace & nurture, a nebula of lies.
What can't be held in hands,
Is it safe to be cradled in mind?
When gut affirms in bellows, what's hidden amidst its walls
Do we continue our quest, or do we comply?
When we feel, should we reveal or should we hide?
These cogent sensualities, I can't reckon they're for keeps,
They aren't safe with you, neither are they safe with me.
Soliloquies are the crutches on which i heavily rely,
To steer psyche's trajectory,
To give me peace of mind.
Heavily,
They bury me,
Come and take what's yours.
I might mess around and kill them,
If they don't kill me first.
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