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Ladies and gentlemen!
Step right up, step right in!
We’ve got deals for your dreams,
Sales on your soul—act fast, this offer won’t last!

It’s happening on Sunday, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!
We’re selling you purpose in bite-sized packets—
One-click, no mess, shipped express to your door.
Swipe right for self-worth,
Streamlined and sterilized,
Shrink-wrap with lies so tight
The freedom will explode out yer eyes.
They package the itch, they sell you the scratch,
A feedback loop of greed for **** you really don’t need
Until the pixels whispered: “maybe you’re incomplete?”
“Hey, no need to worry”, the advertisement assures
An app we’re making just for YOU, madam and/or monsieur!
I can’t help but sigh, and look away
“Another fkn monthly fee? Hmmmm, you don’t say…”

BUY NOW, THINK LATER!
Why wait and feel like trash?
Hurry up and upgrade, ya know, while supplies last?
Planned obsolescence will take you down in a flash.
Just keep’a running, like they’ll always do for your cash.

Your neighbor’s new car gleams like a mirror—
Not to admire, but to reflect what you lack.
Your happiness, monetized and momentarily delayed—
Don’t worry, we’ve got some payment plans for that.
Zero down, zero peace of mind, their hooks sink deep,
Probably looking for bodies, dragging lakes of our sleep
Bought a map for self-contentment, but the route’s under construction,
A platinum premium membership’s the only way it’ll function.

But wait! There’s more.
A lifestyle that screams success—
Filtered faces, curated meals, personalized workouts; THE BEST!
Illusion of choice sold on 118 labels, cleverly selling the same ****
Act now, and FREE for 30 days, you can try new nootropics!

They built the hunger and fed it back to us—
“Don’t be stagnant, don’t be still”,
Won’t be happy, can’t be fulfilled.
In this first world, first in line,
First to implode under the weight of wanting most.
Can’t feel gratitude when ads remind us—
Happiness is only on subscription, anymore.

BUY NOW, THINK NEVER!
They’ve got your thoughts on lease.
Run faster, climb higher,
Consume until you’re deceased!
Fkn, ***—BAG… IDIOTS!

They omit to mention, understandably so
Success for them is leaving us in the dark
By that logic it makes sense that they’re “all out of stock”
Self-worth is increasingly getting harder to hauck.
Still we gather, in hopes to support each other in some way
Right here, right now, a never ending ****** Sunday, Sunday, Sunday…
(I wrote this on a Sunday, btw)
about marketing and false promise
I can only walk like I'm dancing
I can only speak in poetry

otherwise
My body is rigid

otherwise
My tongue is frozen

maybe
Truth has never been my destination

maybe
Truth is just a flourish in my journey

Either way I'm dancing
and I'm talkin like I got somewhere to be.
I fell right down the stairs.
With a tumbling joy.
And laughed at the bottom.
Some doors are meant to stay unopened,
Some questions left silent in the air,
Some chapters end without conclusion,
Some paths often lead to nowhere.

Not every story needs an ending,
Not every wound needs words to heal,
Not every heart requires mending,
Not every truth needs a big reveal.

There's wisdom in quietly leaving,
There’s grace in letting mysteries be,
There’s peace in simply believing
That what must flow will find the sea.

So loose your grip on expectations,
Release the need to understand,
Accept the silent explanations,
Because it is not a part of your plan.

©️Lizzie Bevis
 Jan 7 Devin Johns
Emma
Down here, in the belly of forgetting,
the walls chew us to pulp—
battery birds breaking their wings
against the bars of a silence
too loud to escape.

Love is a blade sharpened by whispers,
passed hand to hand—
friends carve their initials
into the soft of my back.
I taste the betrayal in their laughter,
bright and bitter
as a dying sun.

She said, “Take him,”
but I wanted no one.
This is the ritual of erasure:
the dance of ghosts
learning the weight of their absence.

Another blackout,
another convulsion of the soul.
I have seen my body revolt,
watched it crucify itself—
a lesson in sacrifice
no one asked to learn.

They call me shattered,
feed me the poison of their prescriptions.
“Fix yourself,” they say,
as if drowning is a cure.
Madness has learned the shape of me,
and now it fits like a second skin.

Hope is a liar
standing at the edge of my grief,
offering promises
she never means to keep.
Courage is a trickster,
a juggler of rage and ruin.

I pressed my hands together once,
but no god answered.
Only the echo of my suffering
returned,
swelling to fill their hunger
like cheap wine.

Now, I laugh—a feral thing
tearing at the carcass of dreams.
I sing to the darkness,
let it hold me close.
Sweet decay,
kiss my mouth until I am unmade.
Until even the stars
forget how to spell my name.
She actually told me to love him for her... but I fell into a deep depression how could I ever trust him again, still I tried...
 Jan 6 Devin Johns
jules
I’ve met the night a hundred times—
She carries no remorse,
Her silver hand upon my chest
A silent, steady force.

Her breath is like a frozen hymn,
Too soft for earth to hear—
Yet chills my soul, and bends my will
Until it disappears.

I sought to end the endless ache
With shadows on the wall,
But shadows only shift and shrink,
And answer not my call.

There is no mercy in the stars,
No kindness in the frost—
Yet some persist to claim that light
Redeems what has been lost.

End me, then, O faithful dark—
Unbind this brittle form,
And leave me not to linger here
Through one more bitter storm.
stirring my silence
with a spoon
i discovered this

deeper down
i found
different shapes
and colors

rinsing each
in the sink
i placed them
on the counter
to dry

later i rearranged
them slightly
and made this
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