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MMessi
A collection of mostly my inebriated words. Therapy.
I say verbose, to use “Verbose” These shoes have no insoles. I read to say I read Let’s call these frames, As I do not need to see. This watch tells no time. I am here to say that I am here These arms cannot catch a fall And I have not been near in years
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May 10
May 10, 2026 at 2:35 AM UTC
Selfless art
The hawks deep uncomfortable claws sink Latch beneath my crooked spine I allow myself to dangle, to be All had said I shall never fly That…ahh…that was a lie.
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May 10
May 10, 2026 at 2:30 AM UTC
Trip to the city
What is property Is love property? It is anarchy Do we trust anarchy? Do we really trust love? Love is anarchy. A bond bound in anarchy Cheat. There is no cheating in anarchy For there is no property What is love? It lives outside of law It lives outside of tradition It is not PROPERTY! Love is that moment. You can’t define it You don’t know it It happens…it’s gone! Love is not defined by time Love is… Love is… Now and never again the same Do not hold love Do not love love Love is four letters Love does not exist 2 bodies is not love Love is not exaltation Love is not infinite Love is here Love is now Love is gone Do not find love Love does not need you Love is now Love is gone Love is now Love is gone Love is… Love lives beyond us.
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Jul 29, 2022
Jul 29, 2022 at 5:01 AM UTC
Love is...
Love has wasted my time Partnership has strengthened me I don’t think I’ve seen Love I have seen a beautiful partner Someone to make me stronger Redefined happy To convolute love To self and us And make love constitute us.
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Jul 29, 2022
Jul 29, 2022 at 4:30 AM UTC
Finding ______
Life is puzzle made of pieces all touching one another and the pieces, though multitudes, individually are minuscule. we have happy touching sad, and sorrow touching joy, anger interlocking contentment and fear with unstoppable courage. But at the edges, the edges touch nothingness. And if you stand back you can see the picture of a life full of emotion and a beautiful complex picture of what it means to be human. But if you continue to back away further and further you may find, nothingness. Not even a speck is left if you withdraw far enough. What piece of your puzzle are you on now, I’m sure it’s special.
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Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 3:37 AM UTC
The happiness piece.
My jaw is too far back My hair is falling out Or turning gray I can’t grow muscles I’ll just grow a belly I can’t have ****** hair I debate if this is mental illness Can illness be self aware? Is it an excuse for being me Without free will, What is this? Fucksticles! ***** that hang from the windowsill And fall to a vaginal mole hill You will be what you are Or… You won’t… The **** do I know?
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Jun 11, 2021
Jun 11, 2021 at 4:11 AM UTC
The weight of a reflection
Losing my hair, I’ve learned so much, My head looks weird And no more wise. It’s no longer a conquest But stress for happiness And philosophical lies That promise no demise I’ll miss you hair.
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Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 11:06 PM UTC
Mi mane
“The birth of a poem Poetry is capturing a scene, an event, or a deed with your eyes, Processing it in your mind and feeling it in your heart, it’s letting go and expressing it with your words. Hussein Dekmak Copyright“ -GANDHI
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Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 3:42 AM UTC
The rebirth of a poem
I write this poem to the rhythm of my heart. I have heart arrhythmia, so call it free form. This poem is free form like the dancing of a soul. Made up and pointless. Nothing beautiful to mourn. We are The temperature of air and floating as unborn. The idea is that we don’t and the dream is as afloat We write this poem together to the rhythms of our farts Cheers to my heart
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Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 3:29 AM UTC
Cheers to my heart
If I wake tomorrow hurray As I woke awake today But I forgot to say hurray So tomorrow I will wake And make up for my mistake today And if I wake the next day... I have yet to make a mistake. And for my folly and time wasted I stay awake at the fear of time and death and tomorrow will I awake? If I wake tomorrow hurray As I woke awake today But I will forget as I have forgot and so will the people I loved So tomorrow I will wake And make up for my mistakes today And if I wake the next day... I have yet to make a mistake.
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Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 3:27 AM UTC
As we write we live