Do not worry that you cannot write poetry
For there are a million words in your skin
Interwoven with DNA and constantly replicating:
A story about flashing red lights that look like eyes as you speed in the middle of the night,
Forgetting what you are running away from.
It's nice how we can't know who we are and that our only frame of reference is everyone we've ever met. It's nice to know that we could be original and not know it.
He blinked rapidly as his shoulders shaked from laughter that he did not realize was coming from himself. He was shaking and the only things that mattered were the flashes of black and white. The song keeps playing and nothing else exists besides the smell of burning bread.
He could not decide if that was bad or good.
I wrote this while listening to 20 repeats of the song "What's New Pussycat" with one "It's Not Unusual" following the seventh "What's New Pussycat"
Two strangers sit across from each other.
They are nameless and beautiful.
The aluminum chairs are cold but never as cold as her composure and the coffee is warm but could never match the fire that dances behind his eyes as though it is a ballerina being forced to dance to the quiet music fading in and out.
The date is a business meeting, the desolate coffee shop a board room, and the barista a moderator to say "get a room" or "take it outside" depending on how it goes.
I think I like clinical and distant snapshots of other people's lives. It makes me feel more real.
You like to think that you can hide
but everyone can see you die
drop the change and
give your speech and
paint your face in crazy so that your broken looks like makeup.
Dear ---------------, we know you drew the smile on your mask while it was upside down.
is this a response to some 2edgy4you stuff my friend was saying or is it genuine insecurity about obvious panic attacks
Each player gets 10,000 characters (spaces not included)
and topics to base the words on (space is not included)
Your objective is to make your opponent feel something
In a game in which you'd be lucky to feel something
Note: we do not know who your opponent is and you're afraid to admit the same thing.
No one plays the Rat Race anymore. Now we all play Words To A Friend, a game based off the hit Words With Friends, except your opponent decides your score and you can't leave the game.
Congratulations! You got:
You are not beautiful. You are ugly. A nuisance to someone else is what you need to survive but you can only **** and devour that which is small. You do not make a difference to humans. However, Venus Flytrap, someone will love you and love and then love you wrong. They will appreciate the drive and theatrics but you are too delicate as you need things other than the problems you're so dedicated too.
Once again, congratulations!
Venus Flytraps need the same things as other plants do.
I met a girl with X-ray vision.
She found herself quite smart.
Her fantastic sight
She couldn't find my heart.
There was an *****
that pumped blood
But surely there was something more.
So she climbed
Into my mind
And opened up a door.
There she found
Things somewhat profound,
But they were not of any interest,
So she rose
And found the words I spoke
In the chasms of my lungs.
She saw debate and
The arguments I fought
She saw what I cared about
But it was still not what she sought
Then she leapt into my hands
And saw all that I wrote
She tried to find double meaning
To the carefully chosen words
But there was no leaning
Or things of note.
So she gave up
But began to fall
For when asked what I cared about
My girl with "X-ray vision"
Knew that she didn't know me at all
Don't you just adore fairytale styled poetry