Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
picking flower from your beard

                      only in my dreams.


                                      daffodils from your eyes

                         intertwined around your glasses.


                                       I make a bouquet

                                            every night.


                                 hoping maybe in your dreams

                      you're picking flowers off me too.


                       clutched in your hands


                    maybe just one.
Wrote this on acid last night. Of someone I think about too much.

not sure about the formatting yet but eh.
Summer Jun 2019
I unlocked the door to the other world
I swallowed the key for a few hours then I projected it back up into my hand
Back into the muted land
I miss all the colors and all the sounds
Everything was better
So much more clearer and the world felt less round
The trees were glowing with breathtaking sound
It was still so scary and eerie and made me feel dreary but not as dreary as here
I need to find the key again
The key to my sanity
The key to my invisibility
The key to my mind where I could see all the stars align
Everything was melting and flying
My mind was at peace for such a short time
I do not want to be HERE I would rather die than to not live in that sound mind
My key... I will find the.
MisfitOfSociety May 2019
Breathe in,
And breathe out.
Breathe in,
And breathe out.
Breathe in......
And breathe out.....

*******!

The ear ****** screech of a thousand voices trying to shout over eachother penetrated my ear canals.
I sunk into my sofa,
The infinite space of it.
My friend's faces were melting off,
Like heated wax dripping off of candle sticks.
My sofa seemed to be a portal to hell.
I was sad,
My computer was sad,
My fridge was sad,
My table was sad,
My chair was sad,
Everything was sad.

Everything seemed to dissipate,
revealing the black nothingness behind it all.
Waves of colour exploded around me.
I must have been bathing in a melting rainbow.
This was all too much to take in,
It was like the universe orgasmed into my eye.

I was connected to something other than myself.
Gibberish wall textures whispered enchanting messages through my feelings. Displaying the inner workings of my mind across an infinite landscape of mirrors.
I stepped through a glowing worm, taking me back and forward in time.
They wanted to mend my soul, show the best I could be.
But before I could hear them tell me,
I was spat out by my couch.
Reality begun to mend itself back together,
I am back in my own home.

I saw infinity in a single moment,
And it is now trying to escape me.
I want the world to know what I saw.
If they all saw they would know what I went through,
But I can not recall simply with words alone.
You got to believe me,
When I tell you this story.
Everything made sense to me.
It was all narrowed down to a time frame no longer than the time it takes to microwave a pizza.
I was gone longer than an hour,
I was gone forever.
And now I am back,
Trying you pick up the pieces.
When you let your subconscious write for you, with no edits.
adriana Apr 2019
all i want is you, baby,
but you're three hundred miles away.
that, and...
we're over now.
yosemite Jan 2019
one time i tripped like never before
and the jazz in my eyes could light fire
to the old couple’s balding heads next to us
in the mineral wells mcdonald’s

it was a missed opportunity
the tab was amazing
and at my peak, i felt that in each passing second
that great poetry bubbling in me

i didn’t write any, though
so you’ll have to deal with this ****
thanks, j.b.
epitome staph '17 '18
Day tripper. (An Acrostic)
~~~~~~~~
Day tripper.
An Angel of the streets
Yes  looked good in the dark with light behind

Though her behind sagged She were a tripper
Ripping through every penny that she made.
I knew her when she was young n beautiful
Pimps ran her life now and oh how she’d aged
Persecuted by the cops with the tricks to play
Eventually she became the tripper every day.
Rita was the meter maid of Liverpool they Say

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
She had a ticket to ride
But she don’t care.
November 4th 2018.
A nodding tribute to the Beatles.
Next page