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Nickolas J McKee Aug 2023
A leech ***** blood,
As much parasites see…
Left carcass mud,
Rising my soul to be…
Jealousy round,
They know I’m a has been…
Places I’ve found,
Only I know happened...
Let them all talk,
Their bite marks in my skin...
I’m bored, they’re chalk,
Let lessons all begin…
**** me away,
Phallus to stay…
If people use you or let you down… tell them to  Keep Suckin’ On…
Zoe Mae Dec 2021
The ocean is foaming
The Sun ruthless this noon
She rages at us, while consulting the Moon

The waves smash louder, as the waters quickly rise
Titans themselves couldn't surf these tides

The sky opens up, the atmosphere wants in
She lobs frozen tears and seashells into the wind

Some people protest, a few run and hide
Most are just ****** that the weatherman lied

(So everyone stayed and left trash while taking selfies)
The end
Zoe Mae Sep 2021
We don't look up anymore
The stars are still there, but we find them a bore
They don't make any noise
They certainly aren't toys
Stars may as well be folklore

We don't stop to hear the birds
Each day they write symphonies
that go largely unheard
We'd rather listen to TV
than birds in a bay tree
Which to me is completely absurd

We take the sun for granted
Each day she paints masterpieces, but we're not enchanted
We're either begging her to stay
or wishing she'd just go away
Well, one day we'll get all we demanded
When we demolish this jewel we were handed
Veritia Venandi Nov 2020
Whenever I look up to the night sky,
My eyes travel all the way to the dark space between two stars
Where black holes lay in hiding
To forever **** the light out of any free spirited celestial body passing by...

At such times, I am reminded of my own mind...
The dark spaces between the lobes of my brain
Where monsters lay in waiting to **** the light
Out of any happy memory that flies by...

Is it just a coincidence?
Random reflections!
Thank you for kindly taking the time to read ❤ ❤
Erian Rose Nov 2020
We twirled in the clatter
letting the rain tattoo our skin
till dusk became day
and hands held clasped
in saltwater promises,
drowning in the shores
of your cosmos
imehsahdehahs Oct 2020
(See, EYE never intended
to be the prophet of doom)

Reading From the Book Full Of Death

pages all blank with cigarette Spots

Ashe is the purest white

Eye lay my tarot cards

Death is on the left

(listen, listen carefully)

Devil is ALWAYS right

And EYE, and EYE, and

EYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEE

hanging in the middle on thin metal

everything is upside down from

where I'm

"Hanging"

Your black Cube tree house God is on

firrrrrrre

(Firestarter)

it's darker from inside than the Cloth

which cover it

(see)

Sea

I'm the Prometheus and brought you

Light

LIGHT

LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTTTTTTTTTTTT
black cube in the meKKKa is on fire ;)))
m May 2020
am I even surprised to say it?
the unconcerned let my calls go to voiceless,
any effort gone unnoticed until, of course,
I transform into that perfect little paper doll,
that chill bonafide debutante, to mirror your
cracks and crevices and nightmares;
hope and harm are imminent and strange
and all I’d like to do is tell you things,
but instead we dance around the lies
and every time I miss you it burns
I know I’m meant to feel like the world is an oyster I have yet to crack, like the guts and savory things of life lie just beyond this seemingly impassable barrier of youth.

I am meant to love myself to love others, expected to be grown up but humble; for I am a child in a room full of adults whose legs are trees and I am a sapling not tall enough to reach the rays of sunlight that are experience and wisdom. But how am I to grow if you keep me in the shade. When will I be tall enough if you starve me with words of discouragement, deny me the promise that something lies beyond the world I know now. How will I ever reach for the skies when you tell me this is the best it gets. That I should be grateful for the lack of responsibility I have.

“Oh hush little sapling, you know nothing of the world beyond this grove.” But I know what it feels like to have storms sweep through, I have felt lightning on my skin as I witness injustice, and shameful rain as I stay rooted to the ground. I beg of you let me through! Part your branches so I may shoot forward into the sky, sing me songs of luck as I climb higher and higher, no longer sapling but great redwood, my skin may grow rough but I will grow richer; in all the things one needs for happiness. Rich in love. Rich in passion. Rich in character and empathy.

I will relish those savory things of life as they spill out before me, work to catch them before they are swallowed up by the unfortunate decomposition that happens to all missed opportunities.

And when you are tired and sunburnt, let me give you shade as you gave me, a great redwood child holding the sun up with her branches and the world down with her roots.
Patterson Feb 2020
I have finally found it
a single switch to cure all my ailments.
Led by old heartaches whispering new phrases
and ancient fears with different faces.
Wary looks and tired eyes
aching bones and empty rooms
that rend my hopeless heart
and scar it afresh.

"You're not suited for each other"
and "you will fall out of love"
echoes down these dark halls
like an ominous sea
rearing back and baring teeth
before it swallows me whole.
And though I promise to walk away
should it ever be too much to bear,
I know. I know. I know.

I know it in my heart
that I will break with every step that carries me away.

And I am not sure what it is
that I feel anymore
because lost, hopeless, substandard
are the only words I can make out
among the deep ruts in my mind.
Even when I know
that once the words lovely, splendid and beautiful
were written on my skin.

Though I have no way of knowing,
I agonise, I rant and rave.
Could I do it? Would I be brave enough?
To shut down every thing I feel?
So, shortly after I confessed my feelings to the girl I liked, the entire household was fighting over the relationship. And my best friend gave me a long talk on how the two of us weren't suited for each other, even when we'd just started sneaking around and writing letters like Rosalind and Juliet. The next morning I woke up in an awful daze and spewed poetry.
Emily Jan 2020
thoughts rush
adrenaline kicks
heart beats
heart sinks
            down
                   down
                          down
       until your stuck in the thoughts that couldn't be
why mother?
          why leave me?
I though I was your doll.
I though I was your happiness.
instead i'm trapped.
stuck.
no where left to go.
what do I do with life now.
what do I do with no love,
no hope.
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