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Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
Listen closely when I say this, I don't want to be this, seemingly utterly and socially useless, maybe I spoke it into existence
Best case scenario, this is a ridiculous place to claim as my residence but I never bothered to put forth any resistance
I sit motionless yet some how makin' progress but of course it's lackluster at best, barely a measurable distance
Still forced to press on through 39 rounds of this rigged contest, feeling foolish in lue of my new found cluelessness
Pretending my grip on reality isn't bogus, wishing it was possible to possess more than just a faulty compass
And what good is a shoulder angel drunk off two fifths, ******* me with the devils fist and a strap-on apparatus
How'd it get like this? Was there an exit I missed? Who put destiny up to this?
It's been a continuous loosing battle with this mentality of a defeatist and it means business with tape from wrist to fist
Feel as helpless as a fetus once outside the ****** in the eyes of half of Congress, ******* preposterous
An optimistic pessimist trapped inside a pessimistic optimist, chew on this, I claim the glass itself is a myth
Flip flop from avoiding to chasing deaths kiss, back and forth with reckless abandon that's settin' dangerous precedents
Hiding this incurable, terminal illness in plain sight, a relentless and ravenous sickness
Cancerous thoughts are more than an irritating noosance, it's a merciless menice encased in madness
What am I supposed to learn from this? They say everyone plays the fool sometimes but this is ridiculous, plus, I don't see the purpose
A phony realist, a visually impaired key eye witness. Who hears the crys for help from within the shadows of darkness?
Don't tell me it's the same heartless putts in charge of forgiveness, I need real help so I'm gonna pass on the self-righteous
Is there anybody who knows and could possibly tell me if then why I actually exist
Could they, would they let me know how long all this bull shiits gonna persist?
An existential crisis, I'll give you the knife if you promise to twist and leave it in my back for others to witness
There I am, atop of my own hit list and shiit list, racing toward the top spots like it's a goal I refuse not to witness
Take a shot, I insist, do or do not, there is no try with a mind overwhelmed with sadness
Tripped and slipped and fell head first into madness, it's my ****** up opus, I don't know where hope is
The line between good and evil seems seamless, can't beet 'em join 'em so I tried to harness the darkness, obviously a swing and a miss
I'm the catalyst of my own demize, an apologist for this Hyde side I can't evict with any permanence
Utterly incapable, physically and mentally unable to trespass him from the premises
So I come unglued at the seems and fall to pieces below the surface, letting life continue it's nonconsensual coitus
Here's my thesis, it's better for the masses if I continue suffering in silence and not be anyone elses regrets
Build a wall around this temple, turn open boarders to a closed fortress
No exit or entrance, not allowing me in your presence while keeping life at a distance
Not sure I'll survive this but let's be honest, I don't really need to venture a guess
Let's just say the answer is not a simple yes but it's my reality none the less

©2022
Ylzm Mar 2022
Incorrigible hoarder of the useless and perishables
Fridge full of forgotten decay and unfinishing leftovers
A comforting illusion of plenty and unending riches
To which she nibble away, always leaving behind ten percent
Anais Vionet Nov 2021
Here at Yale University we’re encouraged to attend these campus “get togethers” - to meet other students and broaden our circles. Some are about interesting subjects like politics or science and sometimes you get to meet famous people.

Others are concerned with less interesting subjects - like the bewildering aspects of philosophy: “Would you **** baby ****** if you had the chance - and if so - could you do it with a gun? Shoot a baby to stop world war two? What if you didn’t HAVE a gun, could you find it in yourself to use your bare hands?”

“Well,” I say, giving it some serious consideration - just to show that I’m as philosophical as the next girl - “if I had BEAR hands, couldn’t I claw him to death?”
philosophy seems like a rat hole I wouldn’t want to enter
Jason Apr 2021
A garden trowel in a patch of irradiated weeds

An odometer in an endless maze of MickeyD's

An encyclopedia in a pawn shop full of tweakers

A love song on a boombox with broken speakers

May I present several examples of useless things with nothing to do

Now if you think those're bad, you should see what I'm like...


© 04/09/21 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
Nikolas Feb 2021
Extravagant parties and luscious life...
Everybody's in disguise
of a simple man and kind,
Who runs away to find
Himself; in a very small village.

He will reform, redirect and redesign,
Only to see his neighbors sigh;
Who is this new man who thinks
That suddenly he won't pour drinks?

Onegin was bored, both here, and back home,
But it seems he doesn't want to be alone,
He fools around with a lovely young girl,
Who cares for Lensky, for whom she's a pearl.

There was an enthusiast, a calm yet wild soul,
She read and she wrote, played a different role
Than Onegin would've expected; a letter she signed,
And with her pen, she painted what she had in mind.

Yet those, who are nonchalant and fairly useless,
Will not count the hours that were spent being thought about them.
That's how Onegin lived his life and after 8 long years,
He finally loved, but then, he went by.
Written based on the poetic novel of Pushkin: Eugene Onegin
Man Jan 2021
there was something i wanted write
some thing i wanted to make right
but in the end, i lost sight
and moved on

there were many things i wished to do
many a thing that would've borne fruit
but nearer the finish, my light grew dimmish
so i moved on

you told me there was never
an answer to the question "forever"
but death knows different
because we move on

and there is no trying now
no sense in staving off the dying, anyhow
a distance merchant comes to pick up his purchase
of a bid you can't out
ju Jan 2021
last night her sleep was measured on steel,
****** down without a drop wasted.

we were spoons ‘til her limbs stilled -
tears spilled, found their way to my pillow.

I don’t know why I cry - if tears did help
she’d feel better by now.
VanillinVillain Dec 2020
A wall of doublethink
denies my hands,
wrapped and bound
by wordy chains
I bend to their demands.
Look; the questions on my knuckles,
phrases down my fingers.
These second-thoughts like shining buckles,
locked tight; words left to linger.
In haunted glass I watch your decent,
unable to reach out;
wishing words could extricate,
but gagged am I by cruel doubt.
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