Avni - Hello Poetry

An Apis hides her head in a hole to regurgitate nectar, the sticky ***** pouring from her mouth, only later to use that same mouth to feed her young and her queen, a life sustaining royal jelly. Perhaps my metaphor is flawed, for, even our own **** sapien royalty know they have to face it all alone. Face what alone? The Apis is never alone, she has her sisters. A simple life, though failure to keep her place – perform her tasks – results in death. In death? Perhaps following is not so simple, but maintain a hive mind and there is nothing to fear. Nothing to fear? Except the possession of a hive mind. That is the only way to not face it all alone: be just the same as all the rest. Act like them? Yes, darling, but more than that: You must think like them as well.

0

Mar 8

Mar 8, 2026 at 5:12 PM UTC

Hive Mind

An Apis hides her head in a hole to regurgitate nectar, the sticky ***** pouring from her mouth, only later to use that same mouth to feed her young and her queen, a life sustaining royal jelly. Perhaps my metaphor is flawed, for, even our own **** sapien royalty know they have to face it all alone. Face what alone? The Apis is never alone, she has her sisters. A simple life, though failure to keep her place – perform her tasks – results in death. In death? Perhaps following is not so simple, but maintain a hive mind and there is nothing to fear. Nothing to fear? Except the possession of a hive mind. That is the only way to not face it all alone: be just the same as all the rest. Act like them? Yes, darling, but more than that: You must think like them as well.

23

When I left my bed and snuck outside, the wind was firm and cold And paper birds swirled about my face and flew through times untold Papered wings and papered backs and their papered beaks so quiet That I wished only to touch them, though I did not dare try it Then I had wondered quite distinctly whether it might not be Merely a dream I was dreaming, but a truth that I should see Though the strangeness was so prevalent, l could not help but feel This was indeed reality, for the wind was hard as steel Because in these wondering moments, when my mind had wandered far The storm had grown to such degree I could scarcely see a star But the birds still swished so silently around my ghostly face It seemed they had no place to go except their old paths retrace Again, again, and again they swooped until they pierced my skin Yet no blood appeared about me, but rather, deep and sharp within My anguish seemed frivolous, although the pain suffused each limb The birds cared not for what I felt, each black eye so bleak and grim Full of hatred, full of loathing, full of useless, pointless wrath Their lipless smiles split their faces, they could not help but laugh Deep within their feathered beings was the goal of my demise Did I commit some act against them, I could not but surmise Or had they come to carry out the justice of another? Only of this thought I was sure, it was my fault and no other Yet my memory did fail me as my mind was fogged with pain What had been hopes and loves and loyalties struggled to remain Is this where I shall end because of some dark and baseless rage? Or ‘ever I be interred within this dark and feathered cage? No reason could I fathom, although their purpose seemed quite clear Was this torture they had wrought nothing more than my baseless fear? Was this paper nothing but a mere creation of my mind? As I carefully examined each small fold I could at no point find Anything much more substantial than a darkly scoffing smoke A mist that swirled all ‘round my face until I could naught but choke My throat I grasped with my bloodied hands, each wound so small yet real Each mark to forever haunt me — such a small though stubborn seal.

0

Jun 21, 2025

Jun 21, 2025 at 11:59 PM UTC

Paper Birds

When I left my bed and snuck outside, the wind was firm and cold And paper birds swirled about my face and flew through times untold Papered wings and papered backs and their papered beaks so quiet That I wished only to touch them, though I did not dare try it Then I had wondered quite distinctly whether it might not be Merely a dream I was dreaming, but a truth that I should see Though the strangeness was so prevalent, l could not help but feel This was indeed reality, for the wind was hard as steel Because in these wondering moments, when my mind had wandered far The storm had grown to such degree I could scarcely see a star But the birds still swished so silently around my ghostly face It seemed they had no place to go except their old paths retrace Again, again, and again they swooped until they pierced my skin Yet no blood appeared about me, but rather, deep and sharp within My anguish seemed frivolous, although the pain suffused each limb The birds cared not for what I felt, each black eye so bleak and grim Full of hatred, full of loathing, full of useless, pointless wrath Their lipless smiles split their faces, they could not help but laugh Deep within their feathered beings was the goal of my demise Did I commit some act against them, I could not but surmise Or had they come to carry out the justice of another? Only of this thought I was sure, it was my fault and no other Yet my memory did fail me as my mind was fogged with pain What had been hopes and loves and loyalties struggled to remain Is this where I shall end because of some dark and baseless rage? Or ‘ever I be interred within this dark and feathered cage? No reason could I fathom, although their purpose seemed quite clear Was this torture they had wrought nothing more than my baseless fear? Was this paper nothing but a mere creation of my mind? As I carefully examined each small fold I could at no point find Anything much more substantial than a darkly scoffing smoke A mist that swirled all ‘round my face until I could naught but choke My throat I grasped with my bloodied hands, each wound so small yet real Each mark to forever haunt me — such a small though stubborn seal.

34

There sits on the bank of a river A child all dressed up in gold As she sits on the bank she is crying And the wind is sharp, silver, and cold Her dress lies in pools all around her And the skirt is encrusted with jewels Which glint just like stars in the darkness As she cries for this world made of fools A lover who charmed and abandoned Such a tale of unforeseen woe That had swooped like a bat from the darkness And delivered an unwanted blow And these teardrops that fall from her lashes Each one of them turns to a pearl That lands on the dark fertile soil And they grow into plants that unfurl And this garden that grows up around her Is in colors as bright as the sun And the flowers that blossom and open Are in hues that appear every dawn And she sits and she cries and she mourns In that dress for the richest of queens And she looks at the beauty around her The leafs are in all different greens She looks at the tall trees and creepers And she gazes at the long tangled vines She lifts up her head and she marvels At the flowers of all different kinds But they cannot acquit her of sorrow They cannot rid her of pain So she walks into the river of water Never to come up again And the river it carries her sadness It's burdened with all of her griefs And the water is glossy like pearls Gently sway the overhanging leafs As her body is carried beneath them And they sing a whispering song For the child who cried them to being And mourned for the things that were wrong There sits on the bank of a river Many trees all dressed up in gold As they sit on the bank they are crying And the wind is sharp, silver, and cold

0

Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 12:59 AM UTC

Dressed Up In Gold

There sits on the bank of a river A child all dressed up in gold As she sits on the bank she is crying And the wind is sharp, silver, and cold Her dress lies in pools all around her And the skirt is encrusted with jewels Which glint just like stars in the darkness As she cries for this world made of fools A lover who charmed and abandoned Such a tale of unforeseen woe That had swooped like a bat from the darkness And delivered an unwanted blow And these teardrops that fall from her lashes Each one of them turns to a pearl That lands on the dark fertile soil And they grow into plants that unfurl And this garden that grows up around her Is in colors as bright as the sun And the flowers that blossom and open Are in hues that appear every dawn And she sits and she cries and she mourns In that dress for the richest of queens And she looks at the beauty around her The leafs are in all different greens She looks at the tall trees and creepers And she gazes at the long tangled vines She lifts up her head and she marvels At the flowers of all different kinds But they cannot acquit her of sorrow They cannot rid her of pain So she walks into the river of water Never to come up again And the river it carries her sadness It's burdened with all of her griefs And the water is glossy like pearls Gently sway the overhanging leafs As her body is carried beneath them And they sing a whispering song For the child who cried them to being And mourned for the things that were wrong There sits on the bank of a river Many trees all dressed up in gold As they sit on the bank they are crying And the wind is sharp, silver, and cold

44

I realize that what I had before is now no more. That what yesterday - a long lost era, a time gone by - had breached, is really nothing greater than a hidden phantom, who will not be beseeched. Once I thought I knew with certainty what it is that I now ponder, that they in life did love me, just as I in life loved them. I wonder - though to no avail. I reach my hand out as if they may touch just a finger, but there is no answer from the emptiness. Yet I with none do linger on that cliff edge some call hope, on which one sits, and that only until the doubting kills all faith, while I remain forgotten and lonely Wondering if perhaps just one step forward could bring freedom, if just one step forward could deliver me into some kind of kingdom, of darkness maybe, perhaps of light, or nothing - simply timeless nothing. Though I sit in feigned decisiveness, I feel naught but hateful longing What had been clear is now not and lays here rotting on a long abandoned bed. A lovely thought flits through this darkness and sits itself inside my head. But remember did I once more that all my friends had gone before me to the place of no return, to that point which you call destiny or fate to those less fortunate, who've received what they deserved. Beware lest your mind grow numb unto horrors you've observed. For if all your friends have left you, remember what I've said - the earth spins ever on and on for those who are not dead.

0

Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 12:55 AM UTC

Those Who Are Not Dead

I realize that what I had before is now no more. That what yesterday - a long lost era, a time gone by - had breached, is really nothing greater than a hidden phantom, who will not be beseeched. Once I thought I knew with certainty what it is that I now ponder, that they in life did love me, just as I in life loved them. I wonder - though to no avail. I reach my hand out as if they may touch just a finger, but there is no answer from the emptiness. Yet I with none do linger on that cliff edge some call hope, on which one sits, and that only until the doubting kills all faith, while I remain forgotten and lonely Wondering if perhaps just one step forward could bring freedom, if just one step forward could deliver me into some kind of kingdom, of darkness maybe, perhaps of light, or nothing - simply timeless nothing. Though I sit in feigned decisiveness, I feel naught but hateful longing What had been clear is now not and lays here rotting on a long abandoned bed. A lovely thought flits through this darkness and sits itself inside my head. But remember did I once more that all my friends had gone before me to the place of no return, to that point which you call destiny or fate to those less fortunate, who've received what they deserved. Beware lest your mind grow numb unto horrors you've observed. For if all your friends have left you, remember what I've said - the earth spins ever on and on for those who are not dead.

22

One man may look forward while another looks behind Each to his own way and each to his own kind Why must morals be so fluid when so many step in line But the world is more chaotic than one may first design For as number falls on number and push comes to shove Very little matters but the individual's iron glove So each must bear his burden and each must bear the mark For none can hide and all must bow and smother any spark Because fire is discouraged and rebellion not advised For who can **** a Monster who is previously demised While row on row look spotless, beware the truth inside Their lies are hidden deeply with bodies buried beside The worst is rarely public, but embedded in a hole And it quickly is apparent that most don't have a soul

0

Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 12:53 AM UTC

Humanity's Monster

One man may look forward while another looks behind Each to his own way and each to his own kind Why must morals be so fluid when so many step in line But the world is more chaotic than one may first design For as number falls on number and push comes to shove Very little matters but the individual's iron glove So each must bear his burden and each must bear the mark For none can hide and all must bow and smother any spark Because fire is discouraged and rebellion not advised For who can **** a Monster who is previously demised While row on row look spotless, beware the truth inside Their lies are hidden deeply with bodies buried beside The worst is rarely public, but embedded in a hole And it quickly is apparent that most don't have a soul

14

Swirling hevel, swirling, swirling Smoke-like swirls around my hands Wasted moments, ever wasted Expressed like judges in my mind Detriment hidden within reason Like a knife spun one more time If She is right I’ll have no comfort Only torment in my mind Those six feet under give no answer Nor the ashes on the wind Nor my time in ponderous sorrow With these thoughts upon my mind If I am wrong then I will die Unending deaths in pain and anguish While She turns her face to glory Is there nothing more before me And no reason on my mind? Have I overthought the very thing I have been so careful to divine? There’s always truth, just not for us The past was written down by man In many ways and many forms So what to trust and what is truth? Hevel, hevel, all is hevel Just as The Story says

0

Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC

Hevel

Swirling hevel, swirling, swirling Smoke-like swirls around my hands Wasted moments, ever wasted Expressed like judges in my mind Detriment hidden within reason Like a knife spun one more time If She is right I’ll have no comfort Only torment in my mind Those six feet under give no answer Nor the ashes on the wind Nor my time in ponderous sorrow With these thoughts upon my mind If I am wrong then I will die Unending deaths in pain and anguish While She turns her face to glory Is there nothing more before me And no reason on my mind? Have I overthought the very thing I have been so careful to divine? There’s always truth, just not for us The past was written down by man In many ways and many forms So what to trust and what is truth? Hevel, hevel, all is hevel Just as The Story says

25

My friend, why come to despair at my ruin when you did nothing to prevent it? Why wait for the news of my fate when before you were nothing but occupied? Why hold me without letting go when all you did was push me aside? And why, now that I am supposedly fine, do you turn your back and walk away?

0

Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 12:38 AM UTC

Why?

My friend, why come to despair at my ruin when you did nothing to prevent it? Why wait for the news of my fate when before you were nothing but occupied? Why hold me without letting go when all you did was push me aside? And why, now that I am supposedly fine, do you turn your back and walk away?

9

Hush child - Don't you know your words mean nothing? Not because they are meaningless But because no one will listen

0

Feb 10, 2025

Feb 10, 2025 at 3:27 PM UTC

Free Speech

Hush child - Don't you know your words mean nothing? Not because they are meaningless But because no one will listen

4

(TW: Self-Harm and Suicidal Ideation) I wish the night was more than a fleeting mirage Coming one moment and leaving the next I wish the darkness would surround me in its velvety cloth Not the absence of light, but the absence of life The darkness of total and permanent nothingness I wish my capillaries, veins, and arteries would peal open Slowly, agonisingly I want to watch the final drop of crimson drain from my body Creep slowly down my finger Trancing the path already traced by his brothers He will linger at the very tip of my nail Before falling Plummeting Careening Into the tiled floor Only then will I shut my eyes I will let darkness trail his supple fingers down my body Encasing me in his eager embrace He will wind himself around me until there is nothing left But for a small white corpse upon a brilliantly painted floor And no one will find me Because no one will be left to care

0

Feb 8, 2025

Feb 8, 2025 at 5:49 PM UTC

Red Floor

(TW: Self-Harm and Suicidal Ideation) I wish the night was more than a fleeting mirage Coming one moment and leaving the next I wish the darkness would surround me in its velvety cloth Not the absence of light, but the absence of life The darkness of total and permanent nothingness I wish my capillaries, veins, and arteries would peal open Slowly, agonisingly I want to watch the final drop of crimson drain from my body Creep slowly down my finger Trancing the path already traced by his brothers He will linger at the very tip of my nail Before falling Plummeting Careening Into the tiled floor Only then will I shut my eyes I will let darkness trail his supple fingers down my body Encasing me in his eager embrace He will wind himself around me until there is nothing left But for a small white corpse upon a brilliantly painted floor And no one will find me Because no one will be left to care

23

(TW: Self-Harm) If everyone who loved me were gone I would be free to give my body To the only one who never leaves The only one who can press his silvery lips to my skin And bring me contentment I can rest in his arms knowing I am safe No matter how hard he bites He will always be there to protect me Why must a lover be judged?

0

Feb 8, 2025

Feb 8, 2025 at 5:41 PM UTC

My Lover

(TW: Self-Harm) If everyone who loved me were gone I would be free to give my body To the only one who never leaves The only one who can press his silvery lips to my skin And bring me contentment I can rest in his arms knowing I am safe No matter how hard he bites He will always be there to protect me Why must a lover be judged?

11