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Lendon Partain Mar 2013
I'm just getting in the bath,
Someone else wrote the letter,
I don't want to make a. Mess.

Draw me the water
I point at the tap
Burden no family
Hold my head under icecaps.

Merkel Cells, diluted sensation,
The end of fingertips cant feel your
Flesh.
Shriveling in the cold,
Shivering to stop freezing,
But I cant. What am I doing?
Can I want this now, errectores pilorum erected.
Have I set motion to,
Cogs in a watch I cant adjust.

my lungs mark absolute zero
this is me sitting in chemistry class
english
10th grade
asking sam to suffocate with me
every alvioli is pinned by ****** as thick as knitting needles
my chest is permafrost
my sternum, antarctica
the ribs hollow out
capillary beds lose all the haem
out of their erythrocytes

I'm losing St. Elmo's Fire.

The baths still panting out,
Water roars, gushing spout.
Proud the current sweeps me through,
The porcelain lining this white hell bathroom.
It's bone cannot hide from my blood,
As if I'm isotope 226 of Radium.
Heat seeking marrow.
My serum is Hodgkins Lymphoma,
Tearing through sheeting tile,
Like a young cancer child,
Afflicted,
Leukemia,
No chance,
No good blood left,
To let.


Soon, it will all be gone, and the rivers that
freeze in my arms, and the ribs that are icicles
form, and the atrial canal is not like Venice,
it is the Rhine in winter, the Volga during
the solstice.

Spring will never come again.
Spring slipped its head into the bath water, like my own.
This is about a movie i watched about a guy who wrote suicide notes for people, he said 30 percent actually do it.
Aubree Champagne Apr 2014
You've yet to mention the ghosts
in my corners, collecting like dust,
or the tree limbs chandeliered
over my bed to remind me
I'm not the only one with lost pieces.

If there's another word
for love, I've yet to hear it.
If there's another name
for happiness-- it's yours.

Looking at you is sunshine
seeping into my pores.
Vitamin D makes me feel
like who I should be,
not who I am.

This wasn't supposed to be
an apology, but I'm sorry.
Sorry for my cookie smile,
crumbling, for my atrial
septal defect, for clinging
to you like the freckles
on your elbows.

I'm sorry about a lot
of things, but you'll never
be one of them.  What
I'm trying to say is
I love you

even on days I don't
know what love is.
robin Sep 2013
i'm writing this letter for you.
you in the other room, i hear you through the wall,
talking
to yourself,
telling yourself secrets you never believe.
i have some i'd like to spill,
but every time i try,
the walls soak them up like
white cotton and
black ink.
i'd like you to hear something other than your own voice
and maybe you can hear me when
you read.
you brought me here.
took me with you when you left like
a trinket,
a memento of home,
something to hold in the night when regret is like
a knot of snakes
in your gut.
ibd driving you
to tangle limbs with another;
a facsimile of love
driving me.
i think now it was less love and more addiction.
less love and more stockholm syndrome,
a disorder i cultivated
to have a reason to stay with you, with you,
the most beautiful sledgehammer
i've ever seen.
euphonious dynamite.
you are thumbtacks in my eyes and dry clouds above my desert,
you drop through me like lead:
you are a pneumatic drill and i
am a porcelain doll,
a quail's egg
you shatter me and i know
i never had a chance -
who bets on a dead horse?
who spends all their faith on a pantheon
that rots as they watch.
you desiccate me decimate me and i let you.
you are a world war in the body of a girl,
and i am naught but
cannon fodder
and cotton mouth i read you poetry but the walls swallowed my words
and all you heard was breath
(isn't that enough that should be enough,
a gust of wind
a breeze;
and the spirit is nothing but air,
pneumatic:
cavitied and consecrated.
the walls swallowed its manifestations,
but you
felt my spirit on your skin)
but i am not
enough
you are tire tracks on my abandoned road and you
brought me with you whenever you ran and
never believed me when i told you that
(not every problem can be solved with a map
spread on the dashboard).
you don't care about solutions,  
though,
just avoidance and denial and
distraction,
you treat every vagrant
like god in disguise
you take every hitchhiker into your heart and carry them like tumors,
infirmity is contagious.
a gift the bodies share.
from you i received
an atrial septal defect;
a hole in my heart,
leaking  blood.
from you i received dysthymia and
a martyr complex.
from you i received knowledge:
[one: nobody is strong,
but some have reinforced their bomb shelters
with their own bones.]
[two: a baby doll, baby girl
thick wrists,
sick recurring pain in the form of mirrors,
bathroom stalls and naked form]
[three: a gasmask can't protect you from the poison in your veins.
believe me,
i tried]
[four: the gaps between your bones
will one day be filled
and you will feel whole]
[five: the blue lips of a deep sea diver
should not be idolized.
the only surgeries you perform should be on your own heart
so you wound no one but yourself
when your hands
shake.]
[six: i tried, i promise,
i tried,
i tried]
you are false sermons and i am a believer you are thumbtacks in my eyes and lightning flowers on my back.
when i perform self-surgery,
i will bisect my heart

take it with you when you run
i will stay behind
and speak to the walls.
Lendon Partain Mar 2013
I need to **** my own brains out.
**** the inside of my thigh
/
If self harm existed,
I'd be the definition. Even as a child.
Epitome.
I was the art of chaos.
Reviled taste in the mouth of structure of humanity.
In the eyes of hurricanes,
death emits it's life from my heart chasm,
a dark laceration that continually deprecates the vision of self and image.

When one revokes such practices,
when one covers such motive to make others happy,
destruction of the dreamer will ensue.
Beyond all of the folly in these steps
We continue this dance macabre in order to destroy the civilized that we see in and around us.
Please take this.
Please ingest it into your ears, and masticate it in the gears teeth of your brain.
Hold heart to hand.
Take a breath.
Hold atrial canals to the rib cage that holds it as a cell that completes your bodice.
If you must seek a destruction. Let it be for self intention.
For self seclusion.
Let it be for your own self imprisonment.
Not the caging of your existence by: a state,
a religion,
a county,
a dogma of any sort,
no to ecology,
no to misanthropy.


"Yay", ye shall say. To self worth.
Paul of Tarsus resented his visit, among so many issues of paganism and Christianity that somehow tried to establish it in Jewish orthodoxy, for goods in non-Romanesque centuries of centuries, dissimilar to a Roman statute in the past to decree it today as ****-Clerical.

Saint John the Apostle says: “Christian doctrines were limited when they settled in Jerusalem, nor did they submit to worldly Judaism. He preached it while breaking the loaves in the fasmatémporos or sacralized breadbaskets of salvation, and of the company of those who were circumcised, by those who received the kingdom while they were born into Roman *******. Everything was Estebanian obfuscation as the first martyr of the ecclesiastical order, where the universe points between races, society, and sensual possessions; between Greeks as junk between barbarians and uneducated, and Israelites between Jews and pagans, to make capital laws but hidden among the subjugated codes of dictatorialism, like all the slaves, gathered in Corinth. And of female inferiority to male supremacy, without inheriting the flesh in the reconciliation of shared worlds. His policy moves the bellows of the free winds, for an enclave that begins to be a direct belonging of another man with the Alpha, and finally, this ends up being his landowner in Omega, as a fugitive baptismal sprinkling of those who become attached to the lord, that they do not recognize and if they do it under their clothes and thoughts, that they even carry sores or wounds even on their chromosomes. The genotype is the third month of gestation with embryos that can even be heard with their heartbeats beyond all the galaxies back and forth, colliding with the head of the woman who puts order to the established opinion of the extreme polarity of the genome. The coronation sculptures were made diverse with Gothic forms that differed with duplications of the stars that were built, not specified in any quantity of accumulated energy after thousands of years to be released in the channeling of the corbel, where the Cherubs rested. dedicated today to the lordship of the ancestry of the invocation, and the exaltation of the stained glass that descended from the sky with sectioned iridescence, marking the canonical hours of the first century, the beginning of the fifth decade, where Paul was already pointing to the letter to the Romans, "Where you give free grazing to the sheep, the rams overwhelm the density of certainty with their betrayals, the sublimity of the atrial rebound movement, makes their disparate ears warn of the justification of pointing out where the danger grows". In this way, Pablo de Tarso decided to name himself in the middle of Mataki, as Pablo de Patmos, because his soul still depended on the Marial outlet for his canonical lapses, in fact becoming the main and actant incarnation of faith, with the cardinal points.

Goddess Nike appears again to consummate the victory, then from the exhausted stadiums of the Pergamon amphitheater, Wonthelimar will bring Victory with the other "V" of the goddess Nike, also borne by Athenea Nikephoros. From this duplicity, both are transposed into Vernarth's "V" as an initiatory pseudonym; which will depict the reinforced twin of the Hellenic genesis of Wonthelimar, articulating from this Prótypo with the genesis of the cardinal Mandragoron, which will be Vernarthian architectural and divinized hierarchy.

Mandragoron Geodesy

- North: Vóreios (Zefian Boreal)
- South: Nótos (Austral de Borker)
- West: Dyticá (Sunset of Leiak)
- East: Aftó (Equinoctial of Kaitelka)

Faced with this geodesic repositioning, Pablo de Patmos makes the context of narrowing the analogy of the cross and the intersection point of them through, the Zohar Light that emerged from the iconographic program that was spreading out of the Ave Maria that was heard in echo intervals, The main one being the one heard by the oil press that Vernarth was holding, to lavish the first virginal thread of olive oil, which joined with the sleet drizzle falling between the intersecting points of Vóreios from north to south Notós, and from Oeste Dyticá with the Necromancy of Leiak to the Kaitelka Peninsula.

All seated began to pray, then the nascent of the Empyrean that came with the sleet emerged, and the ****** olive grove of the first degree, all went into a trance, the soul was overwhelmed only with light that each one could see in their features through the irradiation of the eyes of Vernarth and Saint John, and in the breathing of each being difficult and discordant. In the distance you could see the sparkles of Peter and James, together with the Mashiach, they came to enter the peace of each one of those who were here in the Katapausis, the night was warned by the Notós de Borker who prayed with the disciples of the Mashiach accompanied by the three winds from the south, which transfigured the colt of Bethany that admitted them to take them to the Seventh Heaven, here at the first stone of the Megaron with the Mataki, the seven bread baskets and candelabra, taken by the agony of the chalice that everyone carried in their bodies where they sprang from their interior, along with the thread of oil mixed with blood that had fled from Zion to Gethsemane, thus lifeless with the interdict stained the lights of the Menorah, which was propelled over the gray and agonizing shadows of the bread that asked why hand would be divided? They all say drink with their hands, but the hands of the Mashiach opened the sky first to illuminate the exacerbation of Leiak's Dyticá, saying that the sweat of agony will fill our chalices intensely adorning what is revealed by our disturbing sleet. The Equinoctial became magenta and Eritrean, where glory made it pertinent to leave and ask for an oblation in the natural reaction of the recipient, before offering himself! The shudders only spoke of the rictus, when Vernarth huddled every so often to blow the embers of the incense that spread from Aorion, spliced in the Fourth Arrow of Zefian, to leave the ergonomics bronze point, pointing out the Cherubs that came from Heaven falling, to those who went up with their sacrilegious bodies to purge their errors, adoring them with purely beatific simplicity, to bring them back to Patmos to purge there, what the error will make of virtue the light over the darkness in lives that stumble over the moaning death, whose sufferings ravage beyond life, where they suffer undaunted pains of danger, not knowing how to resist them.

Frontality becomes ordinal from unity to three, and from duality to four; that is to say, from Vóreios to Notós and from Aftó to Dyticá, making the Escurialense cross with the crossed lines filled with the celestial blue that filled them with the Seventh Heaven. The darkness macerated the embryos on the error of confronted anguish before an impartial body fallen from the discouragement of overcoming it and moving away from the eschatological. The Mashiach moves his hands through the Codices of Raedus pro generating Jubilee, for the branches that climb the thread of the olive tree that was scalding with passion, to hang on the wood of the Kashmar. The Kardiá resembled lost in the minutes of Kairós, failing to rejoice them, to then overwhelm them in some Escurialense demonym, forming the golden cross, whose four arms were already covered by blue and blue enamel, and in parapsychological fractality, making temporality move in the super imagination of Áullos Kósmos de Vernarth.
Seventh Heaven
David Barr Feb 2014
The anatomical features of genitalia are magnetically captivating, especially whilst the Big Band delivers the message of social expression.
Can we please just reflect together, in this moment of awareness and tantric acceptance?
As we collaborate and address those matters which are characterised by opposing directions, we will find synthesis whilst classical music explodes with ejaculatory conductions within the heart of mediocrity and atrial abandonment.
Can we go somewhere quiet? Let us connect and complete this wonderful circuitry of tactile liberation.
Geno Cattouse Jan 2014
The Asp quiverd in.anticipation.
A warm message bathed its silken skin and then
Quick as.a.hi cup.

Atrial seizures
Ventricle tickle and flicker.
Night rushed in.

To let oblivion win.
Asolution for sins.
Music.played.inner sanctum.

Antony sat in a wicker chair.
Waiting there just as before.
The mighty did tumble and fall
TO the potent small.
Bob B Oct 2016
Are you looking for a solution
To whatever aches and pains might ail you?
During a night of TV viewing
You'll find something that should not fail you.
 
Linzess might stop your belly pain
Or discomfort from your constipation.
(Just be sure to open a window
To provide some needed ventilation.)
 
Feeling nerve pain? Then try Lyrica--
Unless you suffer from arthritis.
If that's the case you need Humira.
But that won't help your laryngitis.
 
Some ads say Abilify
Will help you if you have depression.
But watch out if you start displaying
Bizarre, unexplained aggression.
 
If atrial fibrillation has you
Feeling somewhat out of sorts,
Maybe Eliquis will help you.
Be careful, though, when playing sports.
 
Feeling dry eye? There's Restasis.
Muscle ache? Then try Aleve.
But they won't help with COPD;
To think so would be so naïve.
 
For that you'll need some Symbicort.
But what if you have (gulp!) E-D?
Or B-P-H? Then there's Cialis;
But don't expect a guarantee.
 
For type 2 diabetes there is
Farxiga--just one a day.
But that does NOT mean you can hit
The pastry shop and eat away.
 
For if you do you'll need some Nexium--
Yes, that little purple pill--
For acid reflex isn't fun,
And Zantac might not fit the bill.
 
If menopausal hot flashes
Are totally driving you insane,
Brisdelle should give you relief,
But do not take it with champagne.
 
With all these drugs we can't go wrong.
For everything there is a cure
Or relief from pesky, nagging symptoms;
But read the label to be sure.
 
Because of the possible side effects
Of all the drugs that you might be taking,
Be sure that you have considered the risks
And done some careful decision-making.
 
Watch for rashes, swelling, blood clots,
Gas, nausea, lung infections,
Diarrhea, stomach pains,
Four-hour plus erections,
 
Heart failure, thoughts of suicide,
Impaired judgment, shortness of breath,
Change in moods, drop in blood pressure,
Loss of consciousness, coma, or death.

- by Bob B
Lendon Partain Mar 2013
I just curl into a ball.
And freeze under the rafters.
I can't grab the words I need,
To release them between,
My teeth,
And stop sinking,
Below the frosted air on the ground.

The crown of my heads busted and broken,
Into fragments of love I'm reduced to splinters of glass.
I cut my throat with them to see if I hurt.
Idont.

I need to be bounded with leather.
Heart skin crocheted into "Another" heart.
Atrial to carotid,
Her hand to mine.
Just give me the digits of your finger,
And I'll give you the life of my voice.
In volumes of poem.

I still will be that little boy shivering, convulsing, and scared in the floor.
With block wings in the stone.
You will still be a life saver given to me as a cyanide pill
in my teeth.
Sides of the cheek.
Press.
Display death in my face.
Then be released with pain.
Needing no savior.
Only an outlet for talk.

I quit writing.
To quit writing is the concept.
The concept is happy.
Happiness is the end cause of the deceased.
in the swollen eve of night,
we are light trilling on boughs
and the same bird that arrives
in the morning
is the same bird that abandons us
in the evening,

half-illuminated in flight,
surrounded by the quake of the world,
i take this edge of silence
and its shine-meshed motions
propping up the shadow and defeating
it after with no hesitation, no sallow contrition, no ravening contention;
the night's tenement is the
same clout of daylight's lulled out prisoner: take honestly by saying laughter
and its meager dance frothing in the mouth, shying away into atrial flutters.

feasting in the wind, unfettered, loosely
ambling like waters set free in the vein
of the autumnal world

we've gone where nobody else went,
scared of our freedom, our reluctance to glance back at our petrified images,
willed with a different fire we didn't know our hearths possessed,

on and on, past cathedrals,
     past synagogue bells which word not
  our names, only the mornings we have
   scattered and recollected, bannering
     through our lives, separate, joining all
  that has defied their deaths,
    the unscathed flowers of the garden
and the sheen of whose eyes lost
  their youthful glint,

  on and on,
  never returning, mapping
  a labyrinth of its own.
Nidhi Jaiswal Aug 2020
His name resides on my heart like "SAN"
''SAN'' sino-atrial node
That generate maximum no of action potential
On my heart...
By rhythmic contraction...
🎀🎀
When other name i found like that
My heart rhythmic contraction increases...
''SAN'' moves up and down
Due to this i feel restless sometimes.
🎀🎀🎀
But after that his name resides on my heart like''SAN"
By din't of this i live today
My pacemaker
"SAN"
🎀
🎀🎀🎀
I write it when i study my biology book,i feel like the situation so i write it on like this manner.
Really i feel so much happiness with My"SAN''
Thanks for reading.
The Fire Burns Oct 2016
syncing sinus rhythms
atrial-ventricle connections
hear the drumming beats
in our passions heat.
It's almost,
going to be a year .

When I heard that voice,
smooth, but caring yet unexplainable.

It was soft,
But had a big impact.

Certainly my HR was 180bpm,
and almost atrial fibrillation.

I remember,
I feel happy and ask could you
bring that voice permanently?

— The End —