I would follow you to the ends of the earth
if you would allow
despite your undeclared and silent war
I still believe in fairy-tales with happily ever after
I am a fool, and in my foolishness still
holding an impossible dream
even as it tears my heart and body asunder
you made me believe
in myself and in you, and I was becoming
the best I could be, forgetting my doubt and fear
as you raised me into a light I’d seldom know
only to dash me back down to these depths
yet still I would follow, still I would come
with only love on my lips and heart swelled passion
but I do not fit your plans
or projects of future scenes
and you will take another to your bed, to your heart
forgetting then as you do now
those words once whispered or stridently spoke
even as I believe in love’s myth
I disappear like fading mist into the
recesses of your past
as if I was never there at all
This is amazing.
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Thank you – I’ve been writing a lot today, and am still writing
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I write a lot too. Just not sharing.
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I’ve a lot unshared. Perhaps because it’s too personal, too harsh, too hurtful to do so. There is beauty in words, certainly yours and I think mine, but I wonder at the places we have to be in to bring those words to life
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He’ll mostly. And I’m fucking exhausted.
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Life is like that. At my age I was always a bit grey, these last two months have added much more. Exhaustion and the creep of monochrome into my beard. I feel every minute of my 51 years, and more besides. Existence is a tiresome thing. Oddly, the very last piece I posted (which you may not have seen yet)was written in ten minutes. Some things just happen
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I’m not even going to make it to 50…
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I never intended on it – and very nearly didn’t, although perhaps that is a conversation I would rather not have on a public forum (but it might be worth discussing)
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Hell mostly. And I’m fucking exhausted.
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Perhaps the hell I have just written about. And I am sorry if you recognise it
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I use the same pseudonym on FB for my vast list of ten friends. Feel free to message me there. Oddly the weird message just autocorrected to negated. Irony
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FB is too much of a trigger for me to be on. I don’t even message my friends or family there. I only keep it around for all the photos. Otherwise I would have already deleted the app. Just a few weeks ago I deleted my fanpage which had around 700 followers because they all like to compliment my poetry, but not one of them had the decency to join my Patreon campaign so I can keep writing and eat and I’m about fuck tired of wasting my energy on dead ends. Decade long internet relationships and not one fucking joined (even though I’ve bought their books or CDs or whatever fucking projects they had going on over the years). So I’m fucking done everywhere. I resurrected my Instagram just today. I’m on it as POEETERNAL. Can message me there. But fair warning, it comes and goes and I hate DM.
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People are, in my experience, vast consumers of art for free. As if it’s somehow a favour to you to not pay up. I’m working. I like your art. I’ll join your patreon.
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Thank you!!! 😍
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Might have to wait until Friday though. I’m a tad overdrawn right now
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Besides. I like to encourage young artists
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I’m not that young sadly. I’ve lived 100 hundred lives already. But, it has not been easy maintaining my youth in a plastic crazed world. I’m proud to be 100% plastic free, and oddly enough I look younger than most young people today.
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Before this I passed for ten years younger. Not so much now
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I’m not an ageist but dudes definitely are…
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I’m not. I think. I’ve never really examined that thought in any meaningful way.
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I have just supported you on Patreon. Your voice should be heard
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Thank you so much, I’m so grateful!!! 😍
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Call it a kindred spirit thing. I recognise your pain, and your voice. I’ll hit you up there
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❤❤❤ I can’t thank you enough ❤❤❤
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Sure you can – keep writing
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You know writing is very therapeutic for me so I’m grateful I can keep doing it! ❤
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It is for me as well, even if sometimes it guts me as sure a a fishermans knife
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What happened to Friday? HeHe ❤
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Art > bills
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I was excited! We can PM on Patreon, I consider it my safe haven. That and my blog. But I’m emo. That means I cry.
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I cry far too much
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I cry far too much. Give me a minute or two to set it up
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