Conscience

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A boy raped me Told me it was my fault Whose alter do I run to when he ran through me like a crosswalk   My defense Senseless Derivative of my fences Barbedwire to make the top higher
Make it stop. The rasping of my heart. The uneven breathing that manages to escape. I don’t like the dark. As the rain slips from the roof, a soft pitter-patter. I reach out my hand—emptiness, is that you?
The voice of my voice The leader of all I do The right and wrong   You are the advisor The decider The leader   You've shaped my life Told me what to do And what not to do
Steps away from deathMinutes away from the endAs here I stand, my crossroadsEverything I thought I knew“Kill or be Killed?”The wordsThe taste of poison off my tongueTo save a life?Her life?
Thoughts spawn without direction, Fleeting yet lasting, ever-impactful. Feelings observe without connection, Patient yet hurried, clever and tactful.   Ordering and organzing, making sense of the maelstrom.
It's hard to see how close we are to the edge. We'd be dead with just one step. Just one move--we'd lose our way. Every day, on the brink of insane   A fragile line to separate the sides
Sometimes I’m just here thinking. That’s a dangerous time.Because when I think, I think way too much, never just enough.
These people be looking at me like I'm crazy Like the shit I been doing ain't the right shit maybe Maybe I'm loosing my mind I haven't been feeling right lately Like all these demons inside been tryna step out on me
LilyPad, LilyPad Why must you cower away? The same question you ask every day.
Lazy days and dogs that won't stir, I hope you're happy I hope that you're Sincerly relaxed and seriously invested In the ethical victories over those you've bested.  
Am I really here? 
My ears ring too loud; I can’t hear The one song I need, pure and full Too many shouts, not one is clear   My ship floats, despite a cracked hull   The rain weeps in sympathy
You were a kid once, you once had teachers of your own for many months Now you're teaching for an income, is it your passion, is it even fun?
The ground beneath my feet Tremors with Soul and rational Choking forth a dissonant harmony
Mysteries dash across his face from the flickering flames, Telling me of conceived lies and untold treacheries. Staring aimlessly his storm blue eyes invite me in his mischief.
That was the only Tuesday I'd feel for seven days. Tracing hands over things I had often taken for granted. Kiss them goodbye with sorry fingertips, Until I fall asleep.   Half of me is there when I wake up.
#177 Purple                                Feb. 8, 2013
Yes, You think that you are better than this boy, You could do more to feel even better than now, But when you leave for home you find yourself in his same place, You are put down by someone close,
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