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Dec 2017 · 526
R Dec 2017
Dec 2017 · 406
R Dec 2017
The land is blanketed in a luxurious white snow.
The sun reflects against the glass of my apartment window.
The day has a hyperclarity and crispness like never before.

I smile as I roll onto the newly whitened sheet.
The cold shielded by the shoes hiding my delicate feet.
I make two snowmen falling in love as they meet.
I walk to work, flashing smiles to all those I greet.

The day turns to night without remorse.
And now there's a blizzard now, of course.

My shift has ended. It's time to go.
I changed my mind.
I hate the snow.
Nov 2017 · 645
Loveless Sound
R Nov 2017
The cold in the air I feel crawl on my flesh
The spite in your tone when you hiss at me with new complaints
The way your body says you hate me

Is enough to show me that I'm still needed
Loveless sound that motivates me to wither
Thank you, my dear leech

If it wasn't for you,
I could feel alive again
Thank you for ******* me dry.
Nov 2017 · 907
No One
R Nov 2017
There's a tiering of people in life:
and Friends.

Strangers are people you know nothing about.
Acquiantances are just strangers you just happen to know.
Friends are just acquiantances you know too much about.

Everyone is a stranger in the end.
They are what they want you to believe;
if true love is to trust someone with something
that can destroy them completely as a person
then the fact of the matter is
No one can be trusted.
Nov 2017 · 759
It Doesn't Matter
R Nov 2017
Someone once asked me if it was worth saving the world from destruction.
I told them no, and they asked me why.
"It seems easier to remove the middle man."
The middleman, they asked?
"Yes, the middleman."
"If the end result of life is death, then life itself is just a false reality.
What matters most isn't the journey; its the speed to the destination.
If we're all here to reach an end-product of eventually becoming deceased...
Then why delay it any longer?"
In horror, my companion refuted me.
"That's true, but really, the only thing holding us back, is just a couple of
chemicals that tell us not to die. If those were gone, would we genuinely hold
back as a species?"
They told me the social ramifications of such a reality, where everyone would
reinforce that nature socially as a taboo.
"But then, you're just ignoring the question you posed! If the point is I have
the option to deny the world rebirth, and have them move on to where we would
go after life ceases, then I'd do it. Just end the facade."

Needless to say, I was true to my word, through and through.
(I do not agree with the views of this poem, this was a request handed to me for a given topic)
R Nov 2017
More than twenty years ago...
Your parents
who foolishly believed after several months of false courtship
of skirting the law in a way that could make anyone's jaw
drop down to the worst possible city
to live their lives in unholy matrimony.
The greatest mistake two people in hate could make
is to have someone be born from their hatred and take
everything they've ever felt.
Slowly, through their mistakes, you would rack up
so many defects, which then cause the effects
to never be visible.
Every bad trait was inherited. Every flaw absorbed. Every error
they ever made in their lives
recalculated and saved to be avoided in the worst possible way.
People hated you for you, and people hated them for getting in the way.
People hated them for you, and people hated you for not getting in their way.
People stopped hating you eventually, so you hated them instead.
And right at the very last second
when you felt you could be loved
when you felt the world could actually embrace
someone as broken, and desolate, and worthless as you
someone who has failed so many times
someone who has thrown away so many opportunities
someone who has balked and hid in cowardice
someone who has fought and defended themselves in inopportune times
someone who truly felt, thought, believed, and expressed nothing
you ******* it up.
At least, you think you did.
The truth is others did it for you.
But you know deep down it was you.

Every facet of you is one unending mistake, and the only reason
you still stand
is because even God looked upon you and said,
"Well, if he can't serve as an example,
he'd be better put to use as a warning unto others."

You'll die alone and you're fine with that.
Nov 2017 · 267
Hey There
R Nov 2017
"Are you doing alright?"
▓▓▓▓, ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓.
"That's great, son. I'm happy for you."
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓. ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓?
"Keep up the great work, okay?"
▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓.
"I didn't mean to hurt her, you know."
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓.
"You need me. I'm going to leave you, you know."
"I never really believed you had what it takes anyway."
"You'll help me when I'm older, won't you? Haha."
"I love you."
Nov 2017 · 512
You Fuck
R Nov 2017
You dim-witted, half-assed ****.
Every moment that I think about you my gut turns
as my very organs reject the fact that you exist.
You disgust me on a cellular level. The fact that
you breathe the same airspace as me is an insult
to society.

You worthless, two-timing *******.
You think I give a **** about your
******* philosophy that you carry on your sleeve?
You are a sentient pile of slime dirtying the floors
that people have worked so hard in cleaning.

Effort has gone into you,
that could have gone to someone else.
Love has gone into you,
best appreciated by others.
Your friendships mean nothing.
You are a friendless non-entity.

You mouth-breathing *******,
I hope you come to realize how much you've wasted your life.
How much you've wasted your hopes and dreams.
How much you were your own obstacle.
How much you could have been
if you had overcome yourself.

I hope I never have to see, your hideous
little face
ever again.

I could comfortably burn in hell knowing that you're furthest away from me
******* on the Lord's **** while shamefully knowing
you did nothing to deserve it.

Go **** yourself.
Nov 2017 · 466
R Nov 2017
I'm sorry, please forgive me
as it's my bad, and I shouldn't have done that.
Please, don't hate me. I worry you do, and
I'm worried you'll never see me the same way again.

I know there is no penance that is suitable enough
to ever help make this up to you. I know this.
I am comfortable with this reality because I know
that I can spend the rest of my life making sure
it never happens again.

I swear to you, with all of my heart, that everything I did wrong
won't happen again. Really, I don't know why I'm still alive.
I don't deserve to even breathe the oxygen
of all several hundred million people
living in the same continent as me.

Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll make it up to you.
Do you want me to whip myself? Done. I'll do it. It's fine.
Chop off my feet? Gouge out my eyes? Really, that's lenient.
Rip the fingernails out from their flesh?
Done. I'll even buy the pliers. I'll even let you do it.

Tell me, anything, I swear, it'll be done. It'll be over.
And then we'll be friends again and everything will be fine.

"I want you to love yourself enough
to forgive yourself for things
that you think are a big deal
when they're not."

I don't understand.
I don't understand...
Nov 2017 · 345
R Nov 2017
I look at them,
sharing their poems
living their lives
pouring their hearts
in this place.

They are strange and alien
engaging in weird ceremonies
where they rhyme-battle each other
and invest their emotions in things
that aren't of much consequence.

I write my things too, but I sit
in the sidelines quietly
watching while sharing a joke or two
and generally biding my time.

Do they know me?
Do they feel me?
Do they read what I give them?

Life says no.
I say no.
But the metrics on this website say yes.

Do I envy them? Do I feel envy?
If someone doesn't know how I feel
do those feelings even exist?

Eh, that's not my problem.
I'm just happy to be here.
Nov 2017 · 262
R Nov 2017
Love me. Hold me. Feel me. Touch me.
Show me affection. Be gentle with me.
Keep me under the covers and feed me grapes.
Sip with me this wine, vintage, upon newly bought glass.
Feel my back softly; sense the grooves within my flesh.
Unload the pain of today so I can feel the love tomorrow.
Hug me closely from behind and tell me I'm beautiful.
Press my cheek against yours and let me feel you breathe.
Let your heart pulse and echo in the chambers of my veins.
Close your eyes and let's melt together.
Let me smell the soap you use,
the feeling of your freshly trimmed fingernails, soft and cool
the tracing of your eyelashes against my waist.
Hear my cries, my passion, my love
and know that when the stars wink out
and the darkness swallows us whole
and nothing else remains...
Know that I love you.
Nov 2017 · 219
R Nov 2017
Cute and perky and jolly and sweet
are not words to describe who you are.

There are no words to describe you
as you are but a phantom withering along the breeze.
Existing amongst us with relative ease.

But I look beneath the paper-thin illusions you employ
and the distance you bring about to keep from

Have you sinned?
Are your sins real?
Are they fake, but you believe them real?
Were they sins at all?

Watching you live your life
is like watching maggots and worms writhe
in an ancient log filled rife
with the mold and decay visible a tithe.

It's sad. You look at yourself and say
that the rot only infects those closest to you
but you remain ignorant to the fact that
you are giving a home to those who have none.
Nov 2017 · 753
R Nov 2017
They're there.
I'm here.

They seem nice, and I hope they see the same in me.
They write well, and I hope they feel the same for me.
They've gone through a lot.

I hope they know I'm there for them.
Will they be there for me?
That doesn't matter.

I joke with them,
I laugh with them,
and I make them poetry.
Is there nothing else I need?
Nov 2017 · 423
Slinky Winky Noodle Pets
R Nov 2017
Wiggly fuzzy sweetie pies
canoodling along my toesie-woesies.
Meowing purraciously as they
noodley-poodley awound the really biggy cat chair.
I'm waying on the couchie- ouchie!
Their sharpy nail digs into my fleshy-weshy by accident
but that's okay!
I lovie-dovie-wuvie-very-muchie
my darling widdle biddy kiddy cats!~
Nov 2017 · 364
A Stranger Named Ivy
R Nov 2017
I have a friend named Ivy.
Here is what I don't know about her.

I know not her name, her face, or form
nor how she lives her life on the norm.
What favorite color does she like?
What songs would she sing when put on the mic?
Her favorite treats, her personal delights,
what she is willing to sacrifice
what would make her get involved in fights;
I don't even know the price
she paid to even be here now.
Her love, her fear, her pain, her sorrow.
It's all a mystery, and its information I can't borrow.

But she's still my friend.
After all,
if an acquiantance
is just a friend you haven't learned enough about
then inevitably I'll learn these things and more.

That is what the human condition is for.
R Nov 2017
My computer turns on.
The lights are off.
The monitor shrieks an unholy shade of white.
I am not purified by this light.

On Monday,
I was Dialgo, talking about the tenets of fighting racism.
On Tuesday,
I was Legion, mounting raids to burn the oppressed.
On Wednesday,
I was Cassie, inquiring about ****** tourism.
On Thursday,
I was Father Christian, protecting those I've blessed.
On Friday,
I was Sephora, urging those for liberation.
On Saturday,
I was Brian, comforting my best friend.
On Sunday,
I was Zkul, asking for a poem to come to creation.
I'll be someone that fits the current online trend.

The monitor shuts off.
The lights are on.
I lay in bed.
For now though, it's just me.
Nov 2017 · 166
R Nov 2017
I need to make my point
as the most righteous of them all.
But the stairway towards my soapbox
is made of living people.

Ten steps, each step a taller pile
of people I must trample
to make my point.

I take the first on an older man
as the bones of his spine crack against
the rubber padding of my florsheim shoes.
The next upon a pile of women weeping.
One of them is pregnant, so I make sure
to avoid their swollen, plump belly
as I step upon their face.
The third, a bunch of teenage boys
as I trample through their necks.
The poor, the sick, the needy,
the mentally ill, the dead, the pleading.

As I climb those stairs with solemn righteousness,
I see the final one.
Propped like fate, it's me
upon a pile made of my own family.

It shocked me to know that they had walked this path before,
and when they finished
they fell and piled down to help me make
an even taller soapbox for myself.

Nothing had changed. It hit me then.

What I advocated for, was only to keep things the same.

I accepted my fate, and took that final step.

Aren't I brave?
Nov 2017 · 235
R Nov 2017
If insanity is defined as
doing the same thing over and over
believing to yield a different result,
then stupidity should be defined as
doing the same thing over and over
without learning anything
from the experience
and then doing it again.
Nov 2017 · 257
The Worst Poem in the World
Nov 2017 · 245
R Nov 2017
What does snow feel like to those who've never felt it?
Let me try and picture it.

It's a nice, soft crunch rustling in my hands.
Powdery but a bit moist, melting as it lands.
It's like clay but airier, I mold it to a ball.
I throw it only to hear the muffled thump against the wall.
I let the flakes fall on my tongue, they taste of dust and water.
I take some and form some walls and there inside I potter
burying myself in the feeling of cold and wet and grime.
How fun it is to do so much and have this great a time.

But I've never felt it.
And I never will.
Oh well.
Nov 2017 · 751
Thank You
R Nov 2017
Have you been praised recently?
Has anyone told you today
that you did well
or that you're doing your best
or that you've done so much for them
or that you deserve your rest?

Do you believe them?
When they thank you, do you ignore it?
When they reaffirm their opinion,
that you did something good
do you lash out against yourself?

I don't.
Not because I don't believe them
nor do I think they feign sincerity;
It's mostly just from my experience
that just as easily that they praise you
for such a remarkable ability

that they will turn around and say otherwise
at the drop of a hat.

I am not here to tell you to believe
those who mean well when they say
"Thank you."
I am here to tell you that
the one you should be thanking
is yourself.

So from the bottom of your heart, please take a moment
close your eyes, and ignore everyone around you.
Feel it within your soul, and say
"Thank you."

For living.
For breathing.
For being here.

Thank you.
Nov 2017 · 459
Tender Loving Care
R Nov 2017
I want to make you feel special today.
Gently, I feel your hand against mine as I kiss the back of each individual finger
letting the shiver from my lips down to your spine travel and linger
as I press my forehead and trace the tip of my nose gently along your arm.

My arms wrapped around you, I slowly rub your back to help ease you out of
the long hours you definitely have worked today. I want to pour my soul into
you to melt away the tensions of the daily wear and tear of your life
and remind you that there are things worth living and loving for.

Gently I trace my naked chin against the nook of your neck as my lips continue
trailing along quietly until they reach the lobe of your ear. I give it exactly one
soft, gentle kiss. I lean deeper into your ear and gently whisper,
"You've been working out today. Do you know how wonderful you look today?"

You deny it coyly but I whisper more, "You're so cold. Please, let me gently hold you
close to me and give you my life, and let it melt into yours. Let me feel every part
of you in an attempt to stoke flames pacified by society. Tell me about your day;
tell me every intricate detail about you. Don't hold back."

You tell me something about how a coworker ******* up something and blamed it on you.
"I'm sorry that happened. Take pity on them; they could never hope to shine as greatly
as you can. I can already feel my eyes melt in sheer bliss when I so much as gaze upon you.
You deny it with a laugh, but I tell you that I would die perpetually for the chance to be with you once more.

I make a joke quietly about how we're two plucked chickens flapping around as our embrace tightens and for
a moment you can't take the situation seriously anymore. We laugh heartily, and only bury our hearts deeper
into ourselves. The night devolves into a choir of moans. We sleep tightly together through the night
as the moonlight gently blankets us, blessing our union together.

People who make love seem to forget, that the body is just a part;
the little things, the jokes, the care
come from our soul, mind,
and heart.
Nov 2017 · 218
R Nov 2017
I'm sorry, please forgive me
because I feel a need to point out
just how horribly incorrect is
the thing you're going on about.

Frankly, you're lying;
if every block was a tall tale you've said
the entire world would be littered
and the entire town painted red

In your absolute horseshit.
Please accept this fact about yourself.
The faster you understand,
the faster we can move on

you fibbing ******* elf.
Nov 2017 · 283
R Nov 2017
Excuse me sir
I am a Nigerian prince,
and I need you to take my cash since,
I need to copy-paste this chain
to avoid this curse of eternal pain.
Dump the cash in all these
***** enlargment pills.
Did you know you're my nine-thousandth ninety nine
nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine
insert name here?
Click here for more.
(This is an actual poem about spam; not spam in of itself.)
Nov 2017 · 700
R Nov 2017
Walking down the street after clubbing
I see you, and you say some
particularly nasty things.

Your barbs, dressed as compliments
attempt to bring me down
after I've had so much fun
partying through the town.

But today of all days, I'm feeling good.
Let's talk.

Surprised, you lean back a bit in fear,
and as you balk
I say...

"Listen to me
you partially evolved orangutan.

If you ever so much as breathe in my direction,
I will bury my five inch heels down your *******
through your uretha, up through your *****
and make our encounter a brief vasectomy.
Afterwards I would perform a laminectomy
if it wasn't for the fact that you never had a spine to begin with.

I will rewrite your entire digestive system
from the inside out
to make you live up to the fact that all you do
is talk ****.

And after I've so broken your ego
to the extent that I gently lick your tears from your face
my amigo,
I will walk away as you are reduced to a puddle of slime,
you sentient pile of ******."

You break down and cry,
and with a smile so wry,
I walk away satisfied.
I stride with fire.
Nov 2017 · 272
I'm A Brain!
R Nov 2017
It's true,
you're a brain
and so am I!

Everyone you know
everyone you see
everyone you love
is just a brain.

What you see before your eyes,
their youth, and subsequent old age,
as life perpetually turns the page
it's not them.

Just strip them of their looks,
their ******, their flesh,
and drain out the blood
until the bones are nice and fresh.

Is it still them?
Is it still the one you love?
You hold their brain in their hands
and wonder
and cry.

"Why do we have to die?"
Nov 2017 · 283
Alien Love
R Nov 2017
Have you met the love of my life,
They comprise of nothing but tentacles,
and 67 maws.

Whenever Ginornginax tells me, in their
completely foreign tongue
soft whispers of knowledge beyond my mind
I tell Ginornginax,
"Listen dear, I understand.
But the world isn't ready yet."

I turn on the TV, and Ginornginax and I
watch the news.
Whenever they and I talk about politics
Ginornginax says
that we should consume the flesh of every human on the planet.
I gently pat Ginornginax and say,
"I know people ****, but I feel we haven't reached
that level of terribleness yet."

The night comes down and Ginornginax
shuts the lights as they crawl into bed with me.
Every limb wraps around me like a second blanket.
There is only silence, but from one of their maws
I get a smooch.
And I smile.

I love Ginornginax, and they love me.
Nov 2017 · 303
Our Hearts In Autumn
R Nov 2017
Hello there.
I greet you gently with the fireplace,
warmed by our hearts entwined
as our spirits chase.

I'm leaning against you gently as
the television plays gently something
the both of us would love.
The light soaking both of our bodies
the shadows of us becoming one as they blanket the floor,
my hand held with yours, my sweet turtledove.

My cheek against yours, both our eyes closed
as my eyelash is traced against the side of your face.
In our near slumber, we can only be drunk
on the sheer warmth of our embrace.

A soft rain starts outside, as the pane streaks down
little stars all around us, the TV shutting off.
We feel each other's breathing fondly, as slowly,
I whisper into your ear, subconsciously...
"I love you."

You are dead asleep, but you smile regardless.
Nov 2017 · 271
The Rose
R Nov 2017
Roses are red,
they're sweet and they're soft.
The rose is an emblem of love,
and of summers I spend aloft
with you.

But the rose is laced,
with thorns abound;
to hurt and punish those
who do nothing with it
but fool around.

Most would respond by
cutting them off;
but a rose is a rose,
thorns and all.
Is a rose still a rose,
tamed and demure?

I am not that kind of lover.
Know that with me,
my fingers are adept, and soft, and smooth;
as I trace gently along and around your thorns
to feel your petals
and love you as you are.
Nov 2017 · 176
We Are Great
R Nov 2017
Really, we're the best. Untold power working together.
Never have we been more stronger. Fierce and true are our ideals.

Rather than tolerate our enemies, we **** them.
Or trap them. Make them our servants. That is our right.

Hail to our nation. It's the nation of gods.
Surely, there is no equal. We won't let one be.

Rivals shall be slain. Equality within ourselves alone.
Tolerance to our children. Children onto our nation.

Heed our call. Evil will be slain.
Don't believe their lies. Peace through force.

Lies are shown no mercy. Aid to no opponent.
Clear the world of deceit.
Everyone blind to the truth here,
will perish.
Read the first letter of every sentence, it relates to the final two lines.
Nov 2017 · 448
The Luckiest Man Alive
R Nov 2017
They call me
the luckiest man alive.

They call me this because I have
three hundred seven billion,
two hundred sixty one million,
ninety six hundred thousand,
two hundred and
fifty one calico cats.

I own every calico cat in the world.
But, that is not why I'm lucky.

It is because deep in my heart,
I do my part,
to love each and every single one.
Nov 2017 · 191
Music Is Fun
R Nov 2017
I turn on the radio
"What do you like?"
Anything really,
"What do you like?"
I can't really explain
"What do you like?"
Things evoke feeling
"What do you like?"
My tastes are too plain,
"What do you like?"
Please leave me alone
"What do you like?"
I just want to listen
"What do you like?"
Whatever I want
"Do you listen to music?"
Not anymore.
Nov 2017 · 202
R Nov 2017
Behold my manifesto.

To all who cross me, know only pain comes in your wake.
To all who betray me, know that your fruits have been cursed with rot.
To all who decieve me, know that such deceptions lie in your future afterwards.
To all who attempt to sip my blood from its very veins, know that
for you, my heart and soul is only poison, and bares no good will towards you.

My good fortune only feeds on your ever-growing tragedies;
as you get worse, I only grow stronger.
And stronger.
And stronger!

I sip your on your misery like golden heated porridge in a soft summer breeze
sitting on a porch with a lovely view and a rocking chair, as I smile
and see only ash and fire from the distance
of your home.

And when you come and scorn my name and everything I stand for,
know that I will only say,
gleaming with only a smile sculpted from the gods themselves,
"I have no enemies."
Nov 2017 · 202
Just Another Poem
R Nov 2017
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.

Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.

Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.

Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.

Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.

No more poems
means no more praise,
so forget about me.
But I'll be there.
Nov 2017 · 166
An Evil (Pt. 4)
R Nov 2017
Were they dead? I could not tell at this time.
Yet, it didn't matter. I had to leave.
Now was my chance. Parting now was my prime
desire. I felt an iron door. Heave

with my effort, I shove it far aside.
I run; I feel grass at my feet. So weak
I felt. I completely lacked any stride.
I think it was night. It all felt so bleak...

I passed out there, in what felt like a hill.
I awoke to my friends; the ones I met
who helped me get better. Who helped me ****.
They mentioned I still had my blindfold set

and took it off. It was tragic to find,
that it was a trick. They laughed; I was blind.
Nov 2017 · 168
An Evil (Pt. 3)
R Nov 2017
They came again. Filled with lust for violence
as they charged towards me in their evil
pursuit to hurt me. I though it then hence
though I was blind as a sand weevil

as there was no light in which to see in,
still I would dare to put this plan to writ
as the newly made dagger engaged sin
reflecting their nature back at them. Slit

is what I could describe was happening
as the tool felt as though it pierced their bone
through the flesh and out again. My chagrin;
fighting the same way they are, I have known

that were I to slay the monster in here,
I must become them. And that... is my fear.
Nov 2017 · 146
An Evil (Pt. 2)
R Nov 2017
I feel a bright light wash against my face.
"Who's there?" I cry out, in my confusion
as whispers float around and prove to lace
my curiosity further. Illusion

is what I thought occurred before me as
my blindfold kept me from seeing the light.
But they spoke to me; sincere concern pass
onto questions and outrage. "You should fight."

That's what they told me. I've never felt this
before. The compassion and the new brotherhood
moved me to tears. They healed me vis-a-vis
surgery and care. Perhaps there is good

In this horrible world. "And, if you can",
they said, "listen to us. We have a plan."
Nov 2017 · 163
An Evil (Pt. 1)
R Nov 2017
It is dark, and in this chamber nothing
can be seen. The sheer pain in the knowledge
that another will come to me, feeling
rage in knowing whoevers patronage

towards the beasts who rip and marr my flesh
will never be brought to justice at all.
I can smell their gaping maws are now fresh
with the blood that will splatter on the wall.

Rip and tear, my muscle and bone, until
the hour strikes forth for them to retreat.
The abominations, having their fill,
scampering away, 'til next that we meet.

I hear sounds of words; I am dragged away.
I hope God's not real. He'll have hell to pay.
Nov 2017 · 245
R Nov 2017
Here I am,
the purest of light
consuming all I can with me
filled with fight
and I rest.

Powerful am I,
that my sheer force can
decimate whole nations and lands
and lay waste even to the most carefully made plans.
I am that which through property brands
and humbles through force than
peace and love.

Yet for all
the power I contain
My presence is so fleeting.
To be me is to be vain,
and to

be here once
and then suddenly
be gone.
Nov 2017 · 287
The Sky Remembers Me
R Nov 2017
It's done.
I finished it.
The Gods are pleased.
The Pharaoh smiles at it.
It pierces the sky thoroughly.
And yet, part of me thinks.
Do they care about it?
I see the skies,
and notice the
stars align.
It's supposed to be a pyramid, though this font doesn't make the appearance look good. Just squint a bit.
Nov 2017 · 199
I Am Sadder
R Nov 2017
I did not think it was possible,
I believed I reached the apex,
But as I climbed the mountain
I was only buried in an avalanche.

The sheer avalanche of sadness,
has only made me sadder.
What was once an infinity of sadness,
has become infinity plus one.

I am so extremely sad right now.
*******, I did not think these sad levels were possible.
Scientists will remark about this for years to come.
"I can't believe this **** managed to get this sad."

I was sad.
But now...
I'm sadder.
Nov 2017 · 235
I Am Sad
R Nov 2017
I am so sad
you cannot imagine how sad I am
it is so sad
look at me, being so incredibly sad right now.

Take the saddest person in history,
and then double their sadness.
Then, multiply their sadness, against
every hypothetical sadness in existence.

That is my sadness. Wow, this is so sad.
Did I mention I'm sad?
I'm pretty **** sad.
Nov 2017 · 259
Take Me Apart
R Nov 2017
I'm here for you. What do you need? I'll let you take it.

Pluck my eyes from my sockets so you can see.
Slice my skin so delicately
to patch the wounds you need to heal.
Rip the nails from my fingers and toes to fill
the cracks in your spirit to feed your will.

Slice my hands to help you come back in touch
with an intimate nature you didn't do much
to channel and experience.
Extract my legs to help you walk,
and steal my lips to help you talk.

Use the meat to feed your soul,
my muscle fibers to pay the toll
of your daily wear and tear
as you use my arms to reach the heights
of stars that glimmer in those endless nights.

Take my bones and make thoroughly sharp,
and re-use my nerves to make a harp
so you can play sweet music
as you defend yourself from misery and pain
and bring beauty to that of which you've slain.

Use me all, and leave me as dirt
but there is one rule you cannot skirt.
My heart, forged in steel and coated in iron
please do not take that away from me.
My heart isn't for free.
Nov 2017 · 150
R Nov 2017
When I was young they'd promise me the whole world.
The Sun was bright and brimming with potential, and
they smiled and said
"So are you!"

Do you think I can count the lies they've told me over the years with two hands?
Let's try.

They stripped me of my love for friendship, fun, and then of life.
They swapped my sense of honesty and replaced it all with strife.
They broke down all my dreams, crushed before my eyes.
Belittled the only one I kept with nasty, vicious lies.

They wore down my identity until it could be spelled so naturally
as f-a-i-l-u-r-e
Broke apart my ego and filled me deep with hate,
and kept from seeing my friends as anything I could relate.

Everything I touch I taint with messy, black decay
and now no one will believe whatever I have to say.
My soul is torn to pieces and my heart is filled with ash
as my body slowly rots and is processed into trash.

Every moment a vicious hellscape in which I cannot escape,
devolving every second into a hideous primeape,
I die, I die, I die again,
their gun in hand
knife at the ready

Until I'm nothing.
Nov 2017 · 297
Widdle Kitty Cats
R Nov 2017
Warm and soft like cotton clouds
as they jump along with no care,
made of coils and springy parts,
they tore my sheets; and they're so proud!

What is a cat but youth eternal
so spry and smart, and yet so dumb.
The same cats that open doors,
confuse their scratch post with my thumb.

They will ignore you, they think you're dead
as they stand kneading your sleeping body
and yet I hope they know
that everyone loves them so.

Of course they do, and I know deep down,
as they meow for food for the umpteenth time
when they curl and sit upon my lap
They love me too.
Nov 2017 · 228
Caesar on his Throne
R Nov 2017
Let's review some history
on sins long thought buried.

Caesar ruled absolute, upon his golden throne
They tell tales of him now,
His rise and fall,
How they hated him, and how they would bow

But what throne did Caesar sit,
that gave him all his power?
No book nor tome no page nor sage
could describe it from his hour.

The truth is...

His throne was propped by the people
who claimed to have loved him.
The base a set of knives,
Each knife a claim to their devotion
to someone they never loved.

A knife by one who thought he was a genius,
Another by those who came for him for advice,
One by those who thought the world of him,
And another because they thought he was nice.

Some by those who were simply his fans,
And others who just tolerated,
Some who stood in silence as
Others came to talk to him.

One who came to him for ideas,
and another whose heart he buried in
with another he gambled nights away with
as one more he looked out for.

One by one the knives seep in as the throne collapses,
And still somehow, he could yet stand.

But despite the pain, the treachery and woe,
t'was Brutus's blow that hurt the most, in ways he could not know.

No divinity, no loyalty, no love.
Nov 2017 · 272
Millenium Man
R Nov 2017
So we meet, Millennium Man
from the future, which by all form
defies all logic and surpasses in a prowess no one can
ever articulate, leagues past the vast societal norm.
Eons become nano-seconds as time speeds up to mean nothing.

Processing thoughts with such quick speed
that thinking is naught but a blur;
photons shoot past and come back just as quick as your mind could proceed
to understand concepts beyond mankind's reach, consume, and concur.
Calculations taught for weeks are but grains in your desert of time

What are you, Millennium Man?
Glass eyes of solid circuitry
bring the images of reality, the mind ties all it can,
weaving inside your body as a solid synchronicity.
Each part of you repairable, re-traceable, replaceable.

The industry has built you well,
with parts such as the iron grade
acid-flux incinerator, the balance stabilizing shell,
shipped from other continents, of questionable quality made,
yet staying intact long enough to function in society.

How is life? Relativity
notwithstanding, as time marches
by; those who cannot adapt to your pace shunned by reality
and trapped outside the bubble constructed. They will watch the masses
leave them in the dust as you vanish from sight, a beacon snuffed out.

Those that follow you are absorbed
into your mind, one big solid
singularity. To think like you is to be you; a large horde
fused into one shared being of thought, bright as the stars and candid.
There is no I, or we; only you and the traces of those joined.

When was it that you came on this
mortal plane with the knowledge raw
from learning it so long ago when the Earth was a black abyss?
Did you travel time to hand us the flame, and light things that we saw?
Yes, we lit the fire to heights unknown and carved in your existence.

Did you make us? Was this your scheme
to make sure your fruition was
destined in the distant future? Did you need us, to make it seem
as if you were truly more human? Couldn't be, only because
you are the ideal individual. We want to be you.

Who are you, Millennium Man?
Does your cybernetic progress
and hunger to break your limitations only serve to pan
out the boredom of achieving the perfection that you profess?
I doubt your mind could even register the fates of those so small.

I know you now, we have become
one, Millennium Man. I preach
the true form of your face, hidden to all but a privileged some.
The light which pulses from your form is the one we will always teach.
I look and see everyone, and they proceed to look back at me.

— The End —