[: anti-you :]

[: Alone-apart from anything and anyone, without anything further; not equal :]

I'm blind to your needs, I'm insightful when you don't' want to listen, I'm lost without your guidance. I hate the fact that we're all statistics. I hate conversations that are based on facts. I hate that facts are facts. I hate the fact that I don't know what the fact I'm saying. I breathe you, I bleed you, I need you. In your eyes my lies are see through. My mood to you is a read through. I hate you, forgive me. I'll never hurt you, trust me. You're never alone, love me. Stab me and I'll say I'm sorry. Have me and I'll say I'm yours. Call me names and I'll say "of course I am." Get mad at me and I won't mention how many times you forgot to say that you've missed me. I need to be alone for a while, I need to take a leap of faith back into the kiddy pool of how I use to act when around you. Back off! Go away! I don't want to talk to you. My space is your space so use it. Count the reasons why you think I act this way so I can count all the days that you've worried too much. I hurt inside when I hear how happy you are; I hurt inside when I hear how lonely you are. I grieve when you lose grip of how you feel. I become the discomfort when you feel like you're in the wrong place. I still cry blood trying to see what my eyes cannot. I dig my nails into my notebook at the sight of you... and I slip into the bask of the vapid depression with open arms towards alone. You fear that my words will one day be a parable to you. I invite alone. You fear it. I fear you not being there one day. Your blood is on my hands now. I drop the knife and watch you bleed. Your pain is my pleasure that has suddenly risen from the shadows of absent perception. The cold has kept my pleasure's teeth chattering among its confines’ walls. My pleasure takes the form of a blade that you and I nicknamed "alone." I feel weak as the warm smoothness of your streaming blood cascades through my fingers. The crimson's tide rises by the second, surrounding my feet. Warmth. I laugh at you... and love how helpless you look. We close our eyes and let the bitter cold of Death's bony hands rest upon our shoulders. I can't die... but you can. I am you, you are me. I watch you fall to the floor and wonder if you're still alone... we die.

SHIT!! ur well deep! dat woz a dope peice, tha way u put all those feelins into one poem n still kept me intersted even tho tha length. u finnished off well puttin a conclusion to tha whole poem.
i admire u becoz u can put so many feelins and exspress dem in a poem, im still learnin how to. WELL DONE!
peace ~roX~

yo that shit was deep that was a good poem that was damn i cant think of anywords that was better then all my shit put together. lol but keep written i will definitely read it if u do. 1

Ay, that was real slick fo real...it was so intense, it would be impossible not to feel it. there was no line that stood out enough to focus on cuz they all were powerful and well written. good job fo real, i look forward to readin more from u~

thanks... i appreciate the feedback... much respect

uppin'

I'm not entirily sure what to say. So I'll just be honest, that "don't know what the fact I'm saying" line got a laugh outta me. But from there it was all...

...It was sad and it was mad and it was frustration and rage and allegiance and hope and all sorts of crazy stuff. Certainly an unconventional poem thats normally dropped in these here parts. I'd like to see more of your stuff.

Mo-mentai.

hey system aka this aka that

this was alright could 've been better if i wote it though :p

hhahahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahahhhhhhaaaaaahhhhh aaa



you damn cheesy liar...

damn ill man....i felt you on a lot of parts....like necro sed...uncommon type of poem around here