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girl-scout
I have watch dance La danse Macabre Many loved one who have touched darkness Have given me my taste for dancing with lost souls I feel the weight of a worthless set of eyes Fidgeting under the light once help still Straining under the forceful warmth of my smile, it splits and smooth, grovelling generosity showers me like bathing in passion fruit Warming and pleasant and homely We nestle seeking shelter in our Daily Bread. Yet I repel salubrious comfort For sweet nectar often turns sour once exposed under glaring infinite skies.
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Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 11:59 PM UTC
Rough Fetish
Excuse me, have you seen my people? They don’t all look like me or talk like me, But when you see them you’ll know. Because you know me. Well, yes actually, I have lost something! My purpose. It was here a minute ago with me on the dance floor; and then I seem to have misplaced it… I guess I could retrace my steps but that sounds quite boring, even painful in places. Do you have any other advice for finding it? Sorry! Didn’t see you there, I was too concentrated on trying to figure out the source of my happiness. I’ve heard it comes from within, but I’ve only been taught how to look outwards… Do you know? The outside can get ever so distracting with all these pressures and changes. Hiya guys! I think I’ve found my personality, how are you? Yes well, I was going to ask you actually if you thought I should change it… everybody needs an upgrade these days. Do you have any ideas? Oh **** I’ve only just clocked myself in the mirror! How long have I been looking like that much of a misfitted ***
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Dec 5, 2022
Dec 5, 2022 at 11:38 AM UTC
25-30
The day I realised the extraordinary Power of the Universe I began to take refuge in letting go. First it was my possessions: I took no pleasure in personal property Felt lighter free from attachment. Then it was my body: I wanted nothing, but to share the little I had. I esteemed each new person higher Than the last and easily above myself. Each event good or bad, Was a gift so great because I did not conceive it. And when I did, I denied all liability. Is this life just of the Universe Or do I have a piece of power? If each presence is a present to me, How could I return the favour While I'm busy falling into the flow of life? Living through a series of passive actions Can wear on your mind. You become a shell. Full of other people's opinions, actions.... Then stiff like a marionette, Always performing for others pleasure Saying only what they want to hear. And when you realise these leers Are as hollow as your actions, You become heavy and possessive. I saw my reflection and realised I'd achieved the very opposite of my aim. When I lost control I lost myself. There was nothing new I'd gained.
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Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC
The Illusion of Control Pt.1
There’s a knot in my throat, as I frown These shakes could have another meaning. My jaw clenches as I force myself To reassemble dialogues in my head. Self pity is despicable, But not as threatening as the self doubt That wraps around my clouded memory And squeezes my chest, in shame. Disgust at uninhibited reactions Expressions of false confidence. Although I wish for nothing more than To retract, erase, repatch Gauged open wounds; I need nothing more than those I fear I've hurt To heal my shame.
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Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 6:10 PM UTC
PDA (Post Drinking Anxiety)
Green, long grass. Fields tamed by stone walls Fences twisted by stray twigs. Breeze that brushes through Cows' ears and lambs' wools Strokes my hair as I stare With glee knowing that we Are joined by this same sensation. Perhaps they avoid stepping on bluebells And then regrettably flatten buttercups like me. Might they not step on the cracks between stones, As I do not step on cracks between drains? We share the same fear as other humans approach, Ready to flee if they come too close. For they could be the death of us Or we the death of them. Once this fearful distance is breached What will happen then?
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Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 5:40 AM UTC
Natural Associates
Unwashed saliva Directly comes to mind In an embrace A new level of intimacy Sometimes you can feel them Softly throbbing under your arms Or the smell detects them on the face Rolling steadily down skin Hearing is the worst. Dealing is just as bad. Some peoples cries so uncontainable, Either one of you is mad Are you inhuman to not react? Are they putting on an act? The difficulty about tears is that None can ever truly be judged.
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Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 9:10 AM UTC
The smell of tears
Time is fleeting, We spend half our lives sleeping, Then only a quarter at most if we're lucky, Living truly, and freely. The best friends help us keep authenticity. I was struck last night, by a ghost from my travels. Rushed, not myself, with my mind occupied by the feelings of others. As guilty as I felt, I saw more changed in him. It wasn't just me or our continent. The Golden Messiah, with bright childlike eyes, and strongly spontaneous smiles; Cut his sunshine locks, Dimmed his infectious grin. Limped the way he would run towards me. Rushing to save him from boredom, I had left him last on a beach; With nothing but a loud kitten for company, Alone to make palm leaf huts like Crusoe. We had eaten and drunk and slept on that beach, And did everything by the warmth of the biggest fire I'd ever seen. Last night he needed saving but didn't ask. he mentioned the fire with a smile I'd never seen him have. In a buttoned up checkered skirt, He materialised into the Portuguese American Gothic. The full weight of this transformation revealed itself After the euphoria of this reunion wore off. I bounce about and beamed at him And said "Que louco!" The way he had done, The phrase had stuck with everyone he'd met. He looked now like he'd achieved what he Used to tell me in order to not worry "Nada louco linda, tudo tranquilo" Last night I was no longer staring up at him And smiling in admiration. The levels had changed to the point where We just hugged tighter and tighter To bring back the warmth of that huge fire, and the feeling of having boredom as our only concern.
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
Time flies, You don't
Time is fleeting, We spend half our lives sleeping, Then only a quarter at most if we're lucky, Living truly, and freely. The best friends help us keep authenticity. I was struck last night, by a ghost from my travels. Rushed, not myself, with my mind occupied by the feelings of others. As guilty as I felt, I saw more changed in him. It wasn't just me or our continent. The Golden Messiah, with bright childlike eyes, and strongly spontaneous smiles; Cut his sunshine locks, Dimmed his infectious grin. Limped the way he would run towards me. Rushing to save him from boredom, I had left him last on a beach; With nothing but a loud kitten for company, Alone to make palm leaf huts like Crusoe. We had eaten and drunk and slept on that beach, And did everything by the warmth of the biggest fire I'd ever seen. Last night he needed saving but didn't ask. he mentioned the fire with a smile I'd never seen him have. In a buttoned up checkered skirt, He materialised into the Portuguese American Gothic. The full weight of this transformation revealed itself After the euphoria of this reunion wore off. I bounce about and beamed at him And said "Que louco!" The way he had done, The phrase had stuck with everyone he'd met. He looked now like he'd achieved what he Used to tell me in order to not worry "Nada louco linda, tudo tranquilo" Last night I was no longer staring up at him And smiling in admiration. The levels had changed to the point where We just hugged tighter and tighter To bring back the warmth of that huge fire, and the feeling of having boredom as our only concern.
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