the need to feel hands on me
on my mind, not my body
(never my body)
the longing to become one
to beat as one heart,
to exhale as you do,
to inhale as you do,
would you stop breathing,
just to hurt me?
would you open my ribcage,
crawl inside,
just to feel safe?
would you delight from my pain?
feel it echo in you and shiver.
or would you shield me from it?
I know I wouldn't mind
everything you put me through
good or bad
if it meant I could have someone else
living with me inside my head
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 8:55 AM UTC
a swirling mass of thoughts
a feeling of incompletion
and a sense
of no direction
spending nights awake
letting consciousness fade
and all days
go to waste
held in a stasis
waiting
for my catharsys
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 4:40 AM UTC
swaying side to side
trapped in this lullaby
frozen in time
the winds are cold as ice
like the fog in the sky
with no end in sight
not feeling fine
but happy
to fly
in this melancholic
state of mind
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 1:50 AM UTC
do it do it do it
i can't
right now right now
i won't
don't stop don't stop
no more
weak weak weak
i know
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 8:24 PM UTC
the poets are dead
they say loud and clear
so everybody can hear
and let sink in the dread
the poets are dead
they whisper in hidden
so the words can stricken
and let it charge ahead
the poets are dead
i think to myself
the poets are dead
the poets are dead
and as long as i can tell
the poets are dead
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 1:17 AM UTC
Saltwater rushes over warm sands,
refreshing the heat.
I part the ocean with my hands
while trying not to weep.
This memory;
so sweet,
so far away,
so faded,
my last good memory.
Winds still bring the ocean breeze
to me
wherever I be and
warm tears rushes over cheeks.
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 1:07 AM UTC
I long for love.
Don't we all?
But this is different, I don't want to be loved.
I want to love.
Isn't that the same thing?
No.
To be loved is to perceived,
to be known,
to be seen,
to be held.
I don't want any of those things,
I'm terrified of that.
To love is to perceive,
to know,
to see,
to hold.
I want all of those things,
I ache for that.
But to have one, you need the other.
Then,
I'd rather have none.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 8:52 PM UTC
I hate the city, all the noises all the smells, the heat scattering through the asphalt and making me choke. I hate the futurists, God I hate them, stupid as they were, thinking the city had something great to give them, thinking the noise, the heat, the pain, the screams, the sweat, the feeling of a thousand bodies packed together, had some love to give them.
At least they were constant in their thoughts, in where their loyalties lie. Not like me, I'm like water, mutable, never in one place and never feeling the same way. I make noise too, but it's not loud, it's a murmur a tiny thing that you could miss if you weren't paying enough attention. I'm cool, refreshing, the sun tries to touch me but it can never warm all my extremities.
I'm also alone, like a stream tucked away in a hidden corner of a forgotten forest. I could never be as big as the ocean, as demanding, as present and imposing, and I don't want to.
It's simple really, it's the law of nature: I'm small, cool and quiet therefore I hate everything that is big, warm and loud.
Opposites do not attract, that's the ugliest lie ever told.
God, I hate the futurists
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 3:16 PM UTC
nothing compares to a breath of fresh air, although i can only feel it in dreams,
for my reality is filled with despair.
i wish i could see you
my love,
know you
my love,
but you too can only be found
while i wander the oniric expanses of my mind
as flimsy as the air i seek
and needed as such
forever out of reach and
never mine to keep
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 1:08 PM UTC