trs - Hello Poetry

I scribbled little unintelligible notes on a scrap of crusty paper I messed up ******** and felt that sleeping made me hateful. I never rested until sunrise faces me and blinds my eyes. I've never tested just how hard life is but this morning I'm going to try.

0

Jun 8, 2021

Jun 8, 2021 at 2:25 AM UTC

Sunny Side Up

I scribbled little unintelligible notes on a scrap of crusty paper I messed up ******** and felt that sleeping made me hateful. I never rested until sunrise faces me and blinds my eyes. I've never tested just how hard life is but this morning I'm going to try.

4

I'm a constant and thought I was seeking harmony I bought it all and ******** stances are what has found me. Only perfection is acceptable Only accepting that brings peace. Only staying still will set me free... Only nothing makes me see

0

Jun 8, 2021

Jun 8, 2021 at 2:20 AM UTC

Hive mind

I'm a constant and thought I was seeking harmony I bought it all and ******** stances are what has found me. Only perfection is acceptable Only accepting that brings peace. Only staying still will set me free... Only nothing makes me see

6

I set the precedent that sent my body reeling I know it stole my heart and soul but still I'm peeling back the layers. Because I don't know, and I sure don't show it but I'm blowing it ******** I'm stealing time from golden stables and I'm going to steal the show.

0

Jun 8, 2021

Jun 8, 2021 at 2:18 AM UTC

Cresting hard

I set the precedent that sent my body reeling I know it stole my heart and soul but still I'm peeling back the layers. Because I don't know, and I sure don't show it but I'm blowing it ******** I'm stealing time from golden stables and I'm going to steal the show.

7

I've written my prayers on a piece paper kept in abalone shell. I've written my fears on human fingers and I use them for my spells. I've written one and one half how to feel as well. And I'm smitten by the fact and thought that burning love can dig my well. A poison well for poison people, that no one wants to drink. I poisoned only evil people and my well is where they drink.

0

Apr 3, 2021

Apr 3, 2021 at 11:56 PM UTC

Check this out!

I've written my prayers on a piece paper kept in abalone shell. I've written my fears on human fingers and I use them for my spells. I've written one and one half how to feel as well. And I'm smitten by the fact and thought that burning love can dig my well. A poison well for poison people, that no one wants to drink. I poisoned only evil people and my well is where they drink.

12

I'd decide to liberate, and decriminalize my ******* but no one seemed to care. I've always had honkin' ******* and they made a lot of people stare. Soaked white shirts don't hide honkin' ******* on fat boys at the pool. But my ******* don't make the headlines because they don't make layman drool.

0

Apr 3, 2021

Apr 3, 2021 at 12:53 AM UTC

Male mammaries are hardly seen as marvels

I'd decide to liberate, and decriminalize my ******* but no one seemed to care. I've always had honkin' ******* and they made a lot of people stare. Soaked white shirts don't hide honkin' ******* on fat boys at the pool. But my ******* don't make the headlines because they don't make layman drool.

4

I've worked much harder on sounding off than making sounds, and that's not making me as well rounded as I thought I'd be. So, i'm gonna see what sorts of things that make people want to hear, because if I'm hearing what they're feeling, then they'll hear just how I feel.

0

Apr 3, 2021

Apr 3, 2021 at 12:30 AM UTC

Bang bang

I've worked much harder on sounding off than making sounds, and that's not making me as well rounded as I thought I'd be. So, i'm gonna see what sorts of things that make people want to hear, because if I'm hearing what they're feeling, then they'll hear just how I feel.

4

I inverted my cast iron pan while getting my cake batter ready And ladled in globs of batter against mirror black I stacked fruit into corners to get nice and crusty And I'm burning inside to get fat.

0

Feb 24, 2021

Feb 24, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC

Upside down bake

I inverted my cast iron pan while getting my cake batter ready And ladled in globs of batter against mirror black I stacked fruit into corners to get nice and crusty And I'm burning inside to get fat.

4

I dug 6 graves 1 foot deep For cupcakes that I make I keep making them, even though the holes get steep. I cup my makings into cardboard cartons and I started marking little messages in my cupcake pardons.

0

Feb 3, 2021

Feb 3, 2021 at 9:39 PM UTC

Tweetle D

I dug 6 graves 1 foot deep For cupcakes that I make I keep making them, even though the holes get steep. I cup my makings into cardboard cartons and I started marking little messages in my cupcake pardons.

5

In this evening I have decided That milk and marriage goes well with porridge. I managed to surge and outsource our storage issue, I made it pass us, and I still wound up missing you. I've made it past us, and yet I still wind up missing you.

0

Feb 3, 2021

Feb 3, 2021 at 8:30 PM UTC

Even I feel this way

In this evening I have decided That milk and marriage goes well with porridge. I managed to surge and outsource our storage issue, I made it pass us, and I still wound up missing you. I've made it past us, and yet I still wind up missing you.

5

In digging a pitch garden made with stitches of ruined charcoal I sowed into ten bowls made of silver Ten showmen, made of clay and soul. I knew enough to know I didn't have a second to have for myself first. Still, it's worse to know I thirsted for a patchwork portion of stable little points, painted on a thrift store surface. I didn't care how clean or worn it was, because it always does the same thing and it stings my eyes and dyes my curtains It brings my lies and paybacks certain. Not knowing is enough. Showing feels too tough. I baked my show sinew, and stuck it in a stock *** It's a lot. By god it is. Caught in needlepoint necks makes my life something I could give.

0

Feb 2, 2021

Feb 2, 2021 at 1:48 AM UTC

Frenetic Sowings

In digging a pitch garden made with stitches of ruined charcoal I sowed into ten bowls made of silver Ten showmen, made of clay and soul. I knew enough to know I didn't have a second to have for myself first. Still, it's worse to know I thirsted for a patchwork portion of stable little points, painted on a thrift store surface. I didn't care how clean or worn it was, because it always does the same thing and it stings my eyes and dyes my curtains It brings my lies and paybacks certain. Not knowing is enough. Showing feels too tough. I baked my show sinew, and stuck it in a stock *** It's a lot. By god it is. Caught in needlepoint necks makes my life something I could give.

18