lxudmind
Thinker by day, dreamer by night. Art is a form of expression. Actions speak louder than words; this is me being quiet.
When someone leaves
and has no intention to return,
they linger.
Their memory
etched into the back of your mind,
the vibrations of their vocal cords
when they spoke
like nails on a chalkboard.
But you love that chalkboard.
You love how smooth it used to be,
and your heart
aches,
shatters.
When someone leaves
and intends to return,
your dreams wander
and the chalkboard
stares back at you,
waiting for you to notice.
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Words are just sounds
Put together
Vocal cords
Sending vibrations
But these sounds
These vibrations
Cause us to emote
To feel something
The lack of sound
Speaks just as loud
As a curdling scream
Language
A means of communication
Poisoned by lies
And misunderstanding
If you want to know
How I really feel
Look into my eyes
Past my shield
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