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I speak my wishes into existence. I will no longer go through this self resistance. I set myself free to fly amongst the sea.
Two waves in the sea  Two branches of the tree  Two wings of the bee  These are you and me     In everywhere I go  I keep your love to gr
I see death taking a toll on my shoulders The darkness overflows and my flesh starts to feel colder I can feel myself fade away I notice that everything around me remains the same
Tell me all your stories of all the things you've seen Tell me about your struggles Tell me what they mean   Tell me about your past And where you got your scars Tell me about your walls
I am free I am open I am a flowing river with words streaming from my fingertips pooling on paper. Expression. I am alive in a world where many are dead or maybe not really dead
To the rose with tears in her petals.   Who wilts every morning as the suns rays illuminate her wounds   Who’s roots dig deep but were grown too thin to drink in life  
In one moment I say how i feel, No holding back  You can feel the tears, From the first match To the last kiss, No one ever Will i so much miss
Openness. What do we need? Is it good? Is it bad? Or is it simply a method for us to expand. Allowing us to give our enemies a sharper knife. What are we to know. What are the intentions? The reasons? The wishes?
The me of yesterday, is fading, She was callous, angry, sanctimonious. She was abiding of God and a sinner in one, She is no longer living, from dust to dust.  
To tell you the truth,I am fearful, petrified,That you see my heart.  
Where is the rose, with petals so delicate, That they might fall, if my fingers brush them? ,
1. The Yule has come and so have I, Poised at your doorstep, benumbed with cold, Open up and you will see; That I bear no white beard and I won't howl a ho ho ho,
A peek into my eyes and you see nothing. I hide my emotions well, may be too well. I am very good at it, the result of decades of practice. Might even venture to say that I have mastered the art of emotional silence.
The lightning storm The storm of frustration that comes and goes on my mind Confusion, Isolation This is something I long not to find I loathe this part
I wish my dreams were real life.
Open up the curtain suppressing the real you, Push back the boundaries. 
"You don't know what I say in my mind Close to my heart"--"get your face out of their behind!" "You think you're so this and so that all that pride and ego talking, take a seat"...so she sat
I rearrange my personality and fix my face, Tuck my curse words and laid back cool college kid demeanor
We forget the words of equality that once were said, In the fight for Civil Rights blood once stained the roads red. First it was women, then it was blacks. Round and round we went and now we're back.
I dabbed my brush into the endless ink.It went on smooth, painted all money pink.Pink for delight.
Screeching Scratching Goes the door Latching its Latch through The floor The pitching So cruel To my ears After all These years The door Still leers
Cut out your fear and aggravation
When at a door a common thing Is to knock your hand on that door. But is that door meant to be knocked on? Is your hand meant to knock?   Or is your hand meant to build that door
He is being consumed by fire It is his decision to complete the fall Determined good or evil by choice His strength is in his willful power He must go Out into the open
There is no clear moment when the change sets in, No preciseness in its hold. One day, it just has you. A cold, unfriendly grip, One you tried to ignore for so long.
I. Translucent The world in between two sheets of plastic Control and the mask The world revolving around popcorn and jello and the anxious and the hopeful
Slow walkers, fast talkers Book seekers, key keepers Walking in pairs, retro chairs Carved rock, a slow ticking clock Striped bags with nametags A fire escape, some blue tape A quiet class, a wall of glass
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