maldyeuthanasia (maldyeuthanasia) wrote in tragiccreationx,

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left-over relics of love and pain.

three a.m. blues- and I'm without an out of tune guitar
no dull-plucked strings of sorrow, to sing my dreams goodnight

physically. mentally- left wondering if it even matters
because a broken heart may mend.
but nothing second-hand is ever as enduring
[alluring]. or worth fighting for.
dying for. or risking another lie to try and save

and when we're broken-
it's so easy to understand the meaning of nothing.
to see the cracked/fractures and split seams
believing in a being of delusion

you are my dream, and I am your nightmare
feet shaking. cold: falling out of your bed alone
clutching the stone-cold promises
from those lips that said
they'd never leave you alone
now we're thrown into an abyss- of sorts
dismissed by the world.
bored. torn apart and fed to the wind.

and you are my masterpiece
and we are diseased- displeased with what we can't have
stabbing toward a new world of disorder
with hour-glass tears- fearing tomorrow. drowning our sorrows
[in lies]

and it's me that you despise-

[we watched the stars fall down- breaking the sky
and your eyes were on fire. burning me like a comet
towards the pit of my heart.

we walked away from oblivion- clutching yesterday's promises
in our sweaty palms. and dreaming of ink-penned disasters
giving away our loves- waiting for them to be sold
because nothing in this world ever lasts- just remnants
of what we strove our lives to become.

left-over relics of love and pain.

emotion.devotion- and everything in between: slowing it down-
we're lost and alone- always. so. alone]

-dream. my dear, they can't hear you
and you're better off on your own
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  • 1 comment
...thats beautiful as well....its almost abstract, and yet so meaningful.

Maybe we can help each other with these broken hearts...I'm here for you, not the best...but hopefully not the worst either.