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Nov 21 · 33
What's the Goal?
Split Nov 21
When will pulse increase
out of excitement
rather than fear?

regretful hearts
signal a cry.

Tears slip down
onto our heals,
feet no longer
cling to soil.

left the brain
to rot and boil.

have no grit
have no might

do as you're told
don't question molds.

oh how these days of symmetry
lack any sort of tranquility.

for now, our bodies mimic
palpitations of so-called workaholics.

actions contradicting
wishful tendencies

each obedient second
portraying societies' needle.

lackluster blood entering veins
infecting what once kept organs aflow.

in reach of hearts
it may not pump

but within our souls,
we grasp control.
Split Nov 9
look up
look down
look all around

four walls,
a ceiling,
and so much more.

drowning in privilege
yet always on edge

search for adventures
in seek of misfortunes.

dive towards the lowest of lows
in hopes of reaching
the ultimate ditch of self-destruction.

from there,
no more soil is left to destruct
but the walls still stand for us to climb.

climb back
to the light
of dreams,
of hopes,

recall a wishful purpose,
ignite your selfless self.

people die
from what we joke about
people starve
for what we throw.
yet we cry
for the unknown.

grasp those tools of knowledge,
opportunities, and community.
Utilize them, abuse them, engulf them,
unite them as a part of you.
Then provide to whom lack what you now know.
Nov 3 · 56
Split Nov 3
I'm admired,
some may say.

My kindness,
my courage,
my unbarred humor.

Carefree vegan,
ambitious dreamer,
propelled activist.

All these describe me,
but do they define me?

Often times . . .
after I reach my limit,
I lay in bed.
Stare up, in disappointment.
My past sins creeping in,
my future faults a movement away.

All it takes
is one wrong thought.
Just with that,
artificial confidence radiates my body.

Unaccomplished goals
drown within a drink.

Past paralyzations
demolished with moshes
and blurry vision.

My tongue shaping unfamiliar words,
executed with inescapable dread.

While cool wind invades pores,
thoughts of others
blare in ears.
With such fast-paced nights,
tomorrow becomes unworthy.

But once midnight strikes,
blotched mascara
rests on my tears.

Back in bed,
familiarity ignites.
I say my prayers,
my thanks,
my sorrows,
then once again,
float off towards my dreams.
Sep 29 · 714
Split Sep 29
It's time to sleep.
Allow your lids to cover the sins of today.
Sep 29 · 66
Live to Tell
Split Sep 29
I've gotten used to sitting in my room.

A bright screen lighting up my face,

fingers typing at the speed of light,

reminiscing on all the things I used to feel.

Indeed, I want to say much more,

but . . .

there comes a point
where words
have served their deed.

Where there's not much more to say.
For what has been lived,
           ­      and passed through.

Go explore,
experience the unimaginable.
Then return to pump hearts full of:
                       ­    insight,
               and undetected truisms.
Sep 29 · 261
Split Sep 29
I wish life had an unspoken HIPAA policy.
Split Sep 29
Do you ever have a designated **** up day?

Bulging organs
nearing capacity.

Silver omissions
drenched in chaotic acid.

Floors swept by tarnishing stress:
piles of knowledge meant for the future,
piles of words nursing the past,
piles of tools aiding in mental destruction.

Yeah me too.
Sep 29 · 28
Let me flee.
Split Sep 29
What if one day
I disappeared,

Deleted my virtual existence,

Stopped seeing my regular friends,

Lost contact with all?

What if one day
I stopped wishing
For who I could one day be,

And instead,
Became that being?

What if one day
I turned off the world around me,

And did all the things I ever wished?

In a month I’d rid my old skin,
Sweat off my past disappointments,
Reminders of sin.

In a month my hair would grow
To lengths of which I myself paved,

In a month
My knowledge of
Culture ,
and Myself,
Would expand.

But in that month
I’d lose my friends.
Hurt those who simply cared and wondered.

What would that make me?
Just as bad as those
Who urge me to disappear?

Or just as good as those
Who promote self-evaluation?

There is indeed a middle balance.
But that . . .
that's for the healthy-minded.
I remember when I truly wished to escape to a land where I was unrecognizable. I'm glad I've gotten better since the day I had originally written this poem.
Jul 1 · 61
The Now.
Split Jul 1
Value yourself.
For as you creep into the past,
you wish to have loved yourself then.
Jul 1 · 138
Soon-to-be Scars.
Split Jul 1
You were a shattered chandelier.

In hopes of preservation,
he swept you up.
And in the midst,
cut himself.
Jun 30 · 146
Boundless Illusion
Split Jun 30
People ask me
what I'd like to be when I'm older.
Dumbfounded, I am left.

Not because I'm not ambitious,
not because I have no dreams,
but because I am electrified.
Exhilaration numbing all words.

Yet with all that joy
fear so elegantly prances in my dreams.
Fear of failure,
loss of desire.
That everything I've ever wanted
will crush the cord of paralyzation.

Post the detour
of invasive claims,
I remember who I am.

A person who lives in the moments
during the day,
and is wishful at night.
A comforting balance.

In the day
eyes shine bright
with gratitude.
For the future is unknown
while the now is wildly understood.

At night trepidation flees,
whilst reverie is on its knees.
For in this world,
a star-lit sky sets no limits
on who I want to be.
Jun 30 · 843
Split Jun 30
I used to crave human attention
but I'm in need of an evacuation.
Jun 26 · 331
Unworthy Diffidence
Split Jun 26
Those we admire
are just like us . . .

Blood flow pursuing verbatim paths.
Lungs expanding to the same formula.
Muscles reacting to similar nutrients.

But I'm skeptical . . .
on whether their heart beats
as mine does.

                                      With blissful affliction.

Has their cerebrum been invaded
with the airborne infection of confusion?

Uncertain if they fear the way I do
I wonder . . .

"Have they. . .

Cried over a hiatus of failure?

Panicked through the unknown?

Wished upon futile speculation?"

So tell me.
Have you?
Jun 22 · 121
Once Upon a Time
Split Jun 22
Fearless, I was.

Confidence aiding in prosperity.

It was like a trade:

for my success,

I gave my courage.

Now I have something to lose.

And that terrifies me.
Jun 21 · 184
Split Jun 21
I used to lie awake at night.
Thoughts buzzing in my sore mind.

Of what went wrong
in order for it to go right.

I used to read their agony,
in hopes that mine would flee.

In search of poets with my despair,
thumbs went numb,
eyes dried out,
and I felt dumb.

Now I know how much I’ve grown.
For I now scroll in search of art,
how it should've been from start.

Tonight I find myself
reading authentic work,
your personal rumination.

Old afflictions
aiding in the annihilation
of unworthy reflection.

That's the beauty behind words.
They don't remind us of our pain,
they depict how much we’ve gained.
Jun 21 · 207
True Love
Split Jun 21
The best love to encounter
is the type within friendships.

That's the type of love
I'd truly hate to waste.

Where we are there no matter what,
where we forgive despite the odds.

Where we express the indescribable
without the fear of misconception.

That's the love
I love to give.
Jun 19 · 162
We Decompose.
Split Jun 19
It’s funny how they say time heals.
Yet every second that passes
We near an inevitable illness.
Jun 19 · 121
Turn Back Time
Split Jun 19
It’s 4 am and I can’t help but wonder
How we live with the knowledge
Of the pain within others.

Within those with no shelter.
No resources.
No freedom.

It’s 4 am and I’m confused
On how we dare harm our planet.
Our home, our everything.

How we prefer to feed our needs
Rather than spare the earth
A bit of torture.

It’s 4 am and my heart aches
at the thought of intentional harm.
At the thought of incompetent behavior.

Overproduction of animals, plastic,
Just for the consumption of greed.

It’s 4 am
And my previous mistakes
Of careless, selfish actions
Rightfully taunt me.
Please understand that actions have consequences, any bit of good will add up. Use less plastic, eat less animal products, and donate your time along with your resources to those in need (your knowledge can also be shared, one does not understand their harm until given the facts).
Jun 19 · 72
Acorn Lips
Split Jun 19
Sharp face
of allegations.
Innocence carved through the edges.
October eyes,
like star-filled skies,
and a sun-kissed mouth
with words that pound.

In the hollows of an ally,
she leaned alone,
on top of scars that hibernate
on silver legs.

Worn out, she was.
in pain, she walked.
and as she left,
hope had remained.
Whom had filled
her once lit eyes,
who had felt her cries,
who had been there
the whole time.
Jun 19 · 621
Heart Surgery
Split Jun 19
I've always wanted
to be a surgeon.

But I never thought my first procedure
would be cutting you out of my life.
Jun 11 · 488
inopportune moments
Split Jun 11
want you
don't need you.

wonder if you feel
the way you used to.

7 billion souls yet
yours drowns me in laughter
causes an unprecedented smile
melting my surroundings
leaving just us two.

why are you most worthy
of my sleepless nights
           wishful tears
            inner pain?

who knew such terrible timing
could be the catalyst to all this
aching torture within my soul.

i wanted you.
          you had her.
you wanted me.
          i had begun to fall for him.

i've retorted to old habits:
longing the idea of us.

this time both seemingly free
undoubtedly chained to our past
to our sense of loyalty towards friends.

therefore you have moved on.
swept me away
into a state of pure confusion.

but you moved on
before i let myself trip.
before i allowed myself
to look into your kind eyes.
before i was able to see
all the love they laid upon me.

and once i let my senses free
Nov 2018 · 154
Split Nov 2018
it takes every restless cell

within my thought-provoking flesh

to not look into those gorgeous grey glossed eyes.

one sinful glimpse impetuously fills me with warmth

the hellish warmth of foreseen light

leaping from dream to reality.
Aug 2018 · 1.5k
Our Shredded Souls
Split Aug 2018
Don’t look.
Go look.
No. Don’t go look.

I wait all day
I wait all night
Once midnight strikes
I know it’s time.

You are my poison in disguise.
The reason for my lies.

Red streaks on white
Veins all aligned
I know now you’ll speak your mind.

Words like water in broken glass
Each ear a sponge that always lasts.

Four hours until alarms quake.
Vulnerable conversations
Now somewhere in a deep dull lake.

But this one must be our last.
As I no longer wish to be your hearts cast.

My mind must accept
That the shreds of your love
Are not mine to repair.

For her actions have damaged your soul
Now we shall take a step back
And learn to be on our own.
Jun 2018 · 1.2k
Maybe it's a Rut
Split Jun 2018
I'm confused
on how I feel.
why I feel.
how I should feel.
and how to feel.

60 minutes on 60 minutes
should've been on could've been
1,440 minutes of numb eyes
on pointless screens

my heart now beats to simply beat
no motivation towards a passion
no passion to propel a motivation

fresh flesh decays
beneath acidic tears
that crawl out of me
like termites with a notion
of my poison

my urge to improve is deeply missed
back when my heart was the sun
a star that gave a tomorrow
but all I have is right now
a still moment full of sorrow
May 2018 · 2.2k
microscopic dynamite
Split May 2018
a bean like no other
bitter and white;
a microscopic dynamite,
peristalsis using all its might

my cave so suspenseful and hollow
ridges lined along its curves
churning to my so-called mental benefit
those gastric juices now released,
microscopic dynamite
simply had one more muscle to defeat

a match at last perceived
microvilli yearning love ,
in, it took the dynamite.
yet confused it became as
micro relations only last a short while.

"Nutrients" absorbed,
betrayal on its way
the bloodstream sent in shock
oh such bloodless atriums
oh such vaulted ventricles.
oh how my blood flow met its end.

Although deceiving it had been
no promises were riven
the dynamite exploded
and at last
no longer was I broken.
Split May 2018
I envy those who can say
Their life is like a puzzle.
Each piece confusing
Yet each piece a piece.
May 2018 · 1.7k
Eventually . . .
Split May 2018
Ask me how I am
Text me when you miss me
Ride your bike to my home
And don’t ever let me be alone

Tell me you adore me
Shower me in love
Don’t take me for granted
Be who we’ve always wanted

Kiss me with your words
Hug me when I’m sad
Wipe my tears away
And tell me there’s another way

But before you do all that
We must cross each others paths
Search our street
To make sure that we meet

Yet for the time being
Promise me that you’ll
And respect
The idea of me.

— The End —