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Toast Ghost Mar 24
Stimulate me.
The serotonin pops like bubbles in my head.
Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr.
I 'M in need of more happy chemicals
To bring me higher than my follow count.
I can't live happy with just one
L O N E L Y like
So please stimulate me. I need more attention in my life.
Okie lil update, so life officially *****. I'm extremely isolated due to quarantine. And don't have the motivation to get out of bed or eat so I think I'm just really depressed? Coronaviris is high key killing my throat rn and I'm really really tired of having no friends, geuss being a terrible person who distances herself from all of her friends every time they get too close to her kinda has its downsides, huh.
Toast Ghost Mar 23
I'm crying in my room at 2 AM.
Again.
Don't take frizzy hair and midnight cuddles for granted, they leave when you least expect.
When I'm not thinking I get lost in your sweet cottin candy eyes.
And I know it's not for me, those cottin candy eyes and midnight curls.
Still I'll wish for starry kisses and porkipine nights.
Still I'll miss the Cold soda filled drinking from the hose and laughing till Sunday.
Im not the religion filled lightshow, that you said I was one day. I can't help but wish I could be me how you see me.
You have a strawberry swirl sundae and I'm happy you can keep it.
My mint chocolate chip still breaks my teeth every night I try to lick it off the floor
I'm happy for you and him
For him and you.
So don't look back at my flickering lights just walk away with your strawberry banana sundae, I'll be okay.
This poem is about my best friend with midnight curls and Cotten candy Eyes. I might not see her again for awhile, but it's okay, I'm okay I'm happy for her. I just wish I didn't feel this hurt about it. I really ******* hope it doesn't show, but I'm happy for her and i will be okay without her. Sorry I'm rambling, lol this is dumb. Anyway hope y'all are having an amazing incubation period! Feel free to give me some feedback in comments or pm me if you want I always try to make a point to respond.
Toast Ghost Mar 20
I hate hamburgers. The meat seems purpluent and frankly, the whole entourage is terribly disdaining.
Although I know it's wrong of me to choose my slimey, unhealthy version of the food mixture, I adore it so. The beautiful, white thick and firm yet light and fluffy vanilla waffle bun, with holes that could tear your very soul out (and your drive to lose weight) and lead it to a creamfilled neverland of euphoric bliss.
The raspberries and they're very mucilaginous texture, ever tempting me alike sweet filled ***** tempts up your stomach and out of your mouth because the habit and this strangely erodic hamburger that you can't seem to keep away from yourself.
Under those sticky temptations that humans named raspberries. Lies an evil not to be released unto this innocently skinny world. The gluttonous rice, the red bean paste. And. the. Unholy amount of S U G A R… yes, my fellow small waist golden cricket. For the good of hell and heaven I will warn you of the gluttonous evil called the mochi patty. We've all heard of mochi. That beautiful ice cream filled tragedy. Only my vividly destructive hell that i call an imagination could conjure this terrible fat producer as a patty in this baneful “hamburger” this mochi patty creates an all ailing armageddon in your calorie count. And a suburb genesis for your tastebuds, for the smooth, powdered sweet beauty is the bane of all. The fall of man was brought by mochi, because mochigome is an angelic harm.
The next ingredient in this burger of allure is a safe ingredient. F i n a l l y.
Honey
Mustard.
It's but in normal food and it's not too sweet, there must be SOME health benefits of it surely? That small amount of spice in the creamy oasis. Mixes gracefully with the rest of its poisonous peers.
Now back to my torture of pain and of chocolate *****, next is something hard to save you from all this soft. But don't be fooled just yet, this slab of hard is N O T a salvation. For a slab of hershey's milk chocolate is not ideal for hale. The brits can't even handle how much sugar is in this bar of pure D I S A S T E R. your immune system can't take this angelic evil, eat a carrot instead.
Strawberry ice cream is next made with sugar, vanilla, strawberry flavoring, and E V I L.
Filling your large intestine with sin, strawberry ice creams smooth, creamy flavor. With tiny chunks of cheesecake that squish between your teeth and travel down your throat like columbus, come to enslave the naitive americans that is your pride. Be warned strawberry ice cream might smell like the top of a baby's head going in, but going out it smells like artificial strawberry ***** and shame.
Popped like little tuberculosis bubbles in the saten ice cream. Is what people call bursting boba. I call them orbs of joy, the smooth surface in your mouth is always a surprise, it feels like a cyanide pill. Until it goes P O P in your mouth releasing sweet calcium lactate and artificial flavoring into your soul. They never fail to make you happy. But of course, as all happiness seems to do it eventually makes you want to throw your fat self off a cliffside and that bursting boba will be the cause of your head B U R S T I N G. on the sement.
And last but certainly not least you get to taste the savory evil that is the vanilla waffle bun, once again. And O H H this old friend is not very fun to see once again. The thick bun might be expansive on its own, but i promise it will E X P A N D in your poor stomach. And tasting all of this heinous resplendent horror together will probably **** you from an aneurysm or obesity, or diabetes, or disappointment. But all together it's perfect. And a disaster.
A perfect disaster.
Soooo, funny story actually. This was not meant to be a poem, my seminar professor assigned me to write something about the Perfact hamburger using "evocitive words" and I procrastinated untill the day it was due so I wrote this whole thing like an hour before I was sopposed to turn it in and my friend read over it and told me it kinda sounded like poetry, she then proceeded to force me to post it on here. I went a bit overboard on everything so I'm very sorry for that.
Toast Ghost Mar 20
My bones are hollow, others have bones filled with honey and feather. Im afraid of dying. But I'm not afraid of not living. Thinking is harder than being, for a fool can only be but an artist learns to think. These are all things that she said, spilling syrupy honey in my broken glass head.
She broke that glass. That night when the sky looked like painted on wax and she asked me if I was really there. We had alot of alcohol that night and the ***** felt just not quite right. I wish I drank apple juice instead of whiskey. Inhaled incense instead of ****.
Many things would look different when I looked in the mirror only to see those stiches on glass that only cause more to shatter. Not that the stiches ever really matter.
It's like she's trapped in my head. And she'll scream and dream her doubt. But all she has to do is say let me out and she's free. How hard can that be? At least stop filling up my fragile head with memories of things that happened on a beach at midnight in this dark new moon moonlight. That night those pictures flew away into a sea to never see her or me, that night is over so get out of my head, please. I'm begging you, I'll break it open and let blood and hope spill out if you'd just leave me too, please. Stop yelling things that break my feet and fights we had about things I dont eat and just please leave. I need to get out and fly as far as heaven flys then wait until the sun goodbyes and watch the banks and borders by that midnight dark new moonlight sea. With champagne flutes full on honey, no alcohol because after all I asked her to stay sober.
This slam kinda *****, but give me opinions and criticism if you got any. Anyway lil update, I'm really sick (yes, COVID19) and I might have lots of time to write more. So that's fun my life is declining and everything is getting worse but i can't help but smile anymore, I don't know why I'm so happy lately but let's hope I keep this mentality and don't die! Have a great incubation period guys!! Wish me luck on quarantine! (There is a big difference between incubation and quarantine, stop using that word like you understand what it is)
Toast Ghost Feb 17
She's champagne.
She's pretty.
And she makes you feel good, but she's just temporary.
It's a temporary high, you can't stay drunk forever, sooner or later you wake up with a hangover and no money on the streets of LA.
What im saying is that she won't last I, however.
Im poisen.
Poisen that tastes like blackberries.
And once you drink my blackberry poison there is no going back, it goes down and takes you with it  The effects are a permanent sleep, a vacation away from your body that you can't come back from. The only hurt you feel when you have me feels like magic champagne is pretty but poisen is beautiful.
Champagne is overrated, wouldn't you prefer to live in a dangerous beauty and die in a dangerous beauty. Champagne will make your mind fuzzy and dull, how do you stay alert with all that achohol? Poison makes your mind shap enough to understand the beauty in everything. But... You look happy with your champagne. For now. But soon the high will end and you will come crawling back to me. Until then... I'll be waiting dear
Sorry
Toast Ghost Feb 15
A nun rests her head against the broken headstone, wishing to transfer all cracks in this headstone to her own small heaven clad head.
She prays "darling I wish you could belong in this world of glass water and walk among the land that looks of spilled grains, I wish I could have prayed away your pain, but alas your golden lights gone and it's all in pure vain, the gold frames kept me in the stone house as you roamed the glass cave just out of my silver gaze, Now you swim in butter lakes and live among the crimson dolls" The nun pulled out of what was left in her small pocket, an item of love and fear "I had to borrow this, my dear. I apologize" the nun said with a voice made from an ugly green As the nun walked from the broken headstone, tearing up a porclin doll. She kissed goodbye to the no longer beating heart of her colbat blue daughter and never looked back.
My first story poem, high key tho I mentioned like all the colors in this poem lol, sorry abt that
Toast Ghost Feb 15
Laying on my gurny and I can't see my hands my tongue tastes like salt and with every heartbeat White Walls scream it's my fault.
I'm sorry,
I'm so so sorry. For the dripping lime Forest I forced down your throat, you can cough it up now and I'll leave you alone.
I love the fact that you say your coming back, ___ and hate the fact that you said you would stay.
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