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myuser
F my name floats in the wind with my thoughts and emotions. it's unattainable yet dangles before my eyes for myself and the world to see. i'm needlessly poetic and the inside of a maple tree during wintertime.
I am trapped In this life In this world By these people By these clothes Stereotypes place barriers on who i am Who i can become I am afraid I cannot leave I am Icarus Fly too close and . . . There i go Falling into the ocean All of my ideals Slipping through my fingers Where can i go That is unfamiliar That scares me That excites me That angers me That brings to light any emotion Because there is nothing in my heart I am empty There is nothing there An anthill teeming with ghosts of what once was Perhaps what never was Was I abandoned By myself By others By my heart Where has it all gone The desire My desire The only lust for life that possesses me Is wanderlust The lust for stardust to seep into my skin To distract me from every original To take me to a new world To make me forget Then remember to forget Where has my desire gone The desire to live To prosper in this life To be content Perhaps nowhere Perhaps it has hidden inside of me Fearful of coming out Rearing its ugly head And marking its territory in this decrepit place The hole I call my soul Oh how it devours
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Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 7:24 AM UTC
wanderlust
my world is bleak each breath is empty my limbs are numb they don't feel your touch your caress upon my arm each gentle pat on the hand life has turned vapid leached of all usefulness dead and alone in the corner my limbs are numb yet here you are poking and prodding for a sliver of hope that I may feel again unhindered by life's casual boredom thanks are many to give but dry up on my tongue crack each taste bud not for pleasure or whimsy but necessity for if I were to speak soul truths the earth would shatter beneath our feet
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
apocalypse
hark! I am greeted by angels each with devil horns and spikes in their backs blackmailing my feet to lead me where? away from from the shining seas twinkling eyes and fluttered eyelashes fare thee well in these trying times they screech at me from their balconies all I can do is cry deep in my hands cracking my nose with my knuckles
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Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
wip
Are black clouds swirling above my head? Are birds and butterflies? Can you tell when I'm angry? Does smoke spew from my ears? Wouldn't that be easier? If we were animations Alive and fictitious Right there Before your eyes I reflate after every defeat Arrive safe and clean and unbroken Back in my bed the next morning Nothing happened Wouldn't that be easier?
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
Cartoon Characters
can they see it written in my Eyes Scrawled across my Forehead In Bold Flashing Letters ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE Is my loneliness So blatant on my Sullen face that Any passerby who Happens to glance At my sunken Cheeks and bloodshot Eyes they will see My empty soul & Brain brimming with raging Words screaming to Get Out My closed mouth Shrieking HELP At anyone who will Listen and a pleading Heart that’s never loved Nor felt its warmth Hoping with each of its jagged Fragments that someone Anyone Will notice the Storm raging behind coffee eyes that see Parents & infant giggle While devouring mint ice cream During a record breaking heat wave But no one does So here I stand sit walk Conjuring a practiced smile with Every hello that does nothing to Drown out the screaming In my head
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 3:30 AM UTC
Alone
how does one write M-E-L-A-N-C-H-O-L-Y without stopping to wash their hands?
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
title
He trembles as he gazes upon the upturned nostrils of They that whispers “Not good enough. Doesn’t fit the mold.” They is the pestering voice that jackhammers your skull and shoves your limbs into broken figures. “be left” one screams “RIGHT” roars the other. Left is contested into silence. So there he sits with trembling hands, raging insides, and bared teeth. “Perfection” crows the They we all fear but shall soon become
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Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
They
The sun is shining and moonbeams glisten through the air. Moon, not sun. While the sun shone and incinerated the sloshing intestines of vengeful beasts; the gentle and forgiving moon projected from their eyes and caught the ****** maw of a starving deer. Suitcases of leather stacked behind us filled with spruce, pine, elm, oak, cherry. Ready for induction t o our paperless society which consumes the forests of Hippolyta and Antiope mercilessly. Burning every leaf then forgetting to feel because nothing mattered. Everything never mattered. Facts are lie, opinion is truth. “No one is nothing” they shriek to the heavens striving to be limitless and scorning morality. Embrace death and all its glory. Life, while full of happiness and gorgeous splendor, refuses to acknowledge the magnitude of the word. The thing. Falling and reading and lines and circles and explosions and whimpers and screams. Agony suffered silently, alone; never understood because how could it? What could totally encompass the raging fire that devours the veins and burns from the inside out kept in place by the impenetrable flesh that glints in the forgiving moonlight. A hostile exterior that smiles, waves, laughs on cue to disguise the raging storm fighting its way through from inside. The shell which shrinks from the moonbeam and into the harsh sunlight that filters beneath the floating clouds.
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Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
Mother Moon
Smoke. Everywhere. No escape. Lungs choked by the burning gas floating in the air. Shrieks of delight in the background make me wonder what joy there was. The dead grass crunched under my feet and engulfed in flame after a tiny, glowing ember floated from the smoke filled sky and to the ground. I scream for help but it is mistaken for joy. For a smile plastered on an alabaster face and hands raised to bathe in the shower of sparks that rain down upon the earth. Eyes burn with smoke, blurring every image already distorted by the smog that hangs over the land. Smiling faces contort to demon and white winged angels claw from the ground chanting hymns of forgiveness and eternal life. But, as if taken by surprise, the criminal smoke flees the scene of its crime leaving me; standing there salty rain pouring from honeysuckle eyes roaming the ankle high grass for signed of life. Sure enough, carpenter ants skittered under the pale moonlight rushing back to their mother queen. Demented angels melted back into the ground, not even a mound left from where they clawed through. Demons smiles reverted to tooth filled grins. 'Kathy,' came a far off voice. 'That was epic!' Self-made rain stained my cheeks but no longer poured from my eyes. Elated strangers whom I felt I knew overwhelmed my frozen figure, shouting about my amazing performance I didn't know I'd taken part in. I muttered under my breath, 'God bless the U.S.A'
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
4th of July
this is an endless hellscape housed by demons mocking my torture blood rains from my fingertips clotting in the gaping mouths of the spectators' bellow my bones snap and mend at crooked angles set by my captor injecting formaldehyde to freeze my body poisoned by exposure
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
test day