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PseudonymousS
F/Dublin, Ireland “I see,” said the blind man to his deaf son, and they were both satisfied.
Today The blur in my vision Was from joy And that Is all I can ask for
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Aug 13, 2021
Aug 13, 2021 at 10:00 PM UTC
To Cry
I am an atheist. A spiritualist. A confused child.   I was raised on “God does not exist.” Still, I find peace in Comets and cosmos and creation. I am unsure And Unsteady in my faith. Yet every time A child asks me What thunder is, I repeat the saying I always heard. “God is bowling.”
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Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
On God
A spoon scoops out ribbons Of entrails and intestines From the tender lining Of my soft belly. My mind is murky waters Muddled thoughts Mindless wandering. Heat invades my skin A tainted blush of fever. Once every full moon.
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Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 1:39 PM UTC
************
I wonder if He loves me. Even though His eyes linger On my ******* Not my heart.
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Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 10:25 AM UTC
Woman
“Bombs away!” You called. They exploded with love. Then suddenly, The world was left empty. Until the next wave.
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Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 2:43 PM UTC
Love-Bomb
Last night, In my nightmare, I wailed Like a beast As You Held me down. When I awoke, It made me Wonder If you’re doing The same Exact Thing In reality.
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Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 2:39 PM UTC
Only A Dream
You Apologized So Sweetly It Made Me Forget Just For A While How Painful Your Bite Is
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Jun 28, 2021
Jun 28, 2021 at 4:53 AM UTC
Snakes and Dogs
This Horrible Mean Nasty Rotten Poem Goes Out To You. My Beautiful Warm Chaotic Mess Of A Friend. ——- The next time you drink, I’m putting you in the trunk of my car. The passenger seat is reserved for folks Who know how to handle their liquor. Not people like you, Who just get sicker. (See, I can rhyme too.) The next time you stoop over a piano Or sing over the chords of a guitar, I’ll try to stop my awestruck stare. It’s more embarrassing for me than you. (Although, I’m sure you’re already aware.) The next time we sit in a bed of grass, Instead of you, I’ll try to focus my eyes on stars. I have a rule against denying myself beauty, But I’m attempting self-control. (Even in regards to you, truly) Anyways, I’m done with this **** poem. I’m pretty sure it’s a sonnet, or something like that. So you’re welcome my dear Matan; To you, I’m tipping my hat.
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Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 2:35 PM UTC
Matan
I am bursting From stomach to seam With this overwhelming Sensation That some would call Satiation But I would call The enemy
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Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 1:31 PM UTC
13:31 EST
I’m not sure that I know what jealousy feels like. I’ve heard tales of it. Of green cheeks and envious eyes and pounding hearts. And while my heart beats in my chest like a snare drum, I don’t believe that it’s out of envy. I’ve little care for your other loves Or other bodies. For all that matters to me Is when your head Is on my chest. I don’t believe I’ve felt jealousy. Fear, On the other hand, Is a strong possibility.
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Jun 23, 2021
Jun 23, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC
14:37 EST