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the dead bird Feb 2016
"You are not alone. There is beauty in sadness. Many run from it or treat it as something that shouldn't be. We need to feel sadness to feel joy. Your sadness is cold. Can it be made to feel warm?”

can it?
I am starting
to think
yes

realizing
everything you said
carries its own weight
in truth
without sadness
I wouldn't know joy

duality
is in
every part of this universe
from
the ever shifting
ocean
in my soul
to the massive star
we named
the sun
and
she shines
because of duality

massive
amounts of energy
bursting
pushing
to get out
the weight
of her being
crushing
pushing down
with equal
force

the suns
core
fuses
transfers
makes
something else
out of
what is inside her

her hydrogen
becoming
helium
the constant change
creating
something almost
stable
almost
predictable

one day
there will be nothing left
inside of her core
to fuse

one day
I will have nothing left
inside of my soul
to write

when there is no more
hydrogen
left
no more
passion
left
she will collapse
under the weight
of her existence

the pressure
of this alone
causes
more
change
heavier
elements
heavier
thoughts
she will swell
growing
larger
darker
intrusive
making us feel
her being

leaving us
with no where to go
but to accept
and to be
engulfed

after
there is nothing left
she will collapse
from
her giant self
overbearing
us and our neighbors
becoming
a fragment of who
she used to be
rotating
still
the passion
is gone
her life source
is gone
the light
lingers
until she has nothing left
her light
burns out
and
until time stops
she will stay
a brown
quiet
dwarf
all that's left
are her memories of
the life
she gave
to us

I hope
when it is my time
when my fuel
has become heavy
and when I engulf
those
around me
forcing
my deadly heat
onto
my
planets
that I won't collapse
into
a smaller star

into
a lesser version
of me

i want to be
big enough
that I explode
tearing
through what's left
with the beams of energy
I've stuffed inside of me

let my supernova
carry the dust
of the planet
you were
let me
push you elsewhere
farther
let me
bring new life
energy
hope
when I explode

and then
let me eat
anything
that gets too close
you will never leave
you are mine
my father sent me the words in quotes when I told him I was feeling depressed.

I don't know why it took this kind of turn haha
the dead bird Feb 2016
there are
three states of matter.
three
states
of Becky

solid.
i am sturdy. i am
for the rare times in my life
responsible
respectable
hard
to crack
but if you do
I am like glass
i shatter
it takes a long time
to fix myself
I crumple
I realize
though I thought I was
indestructable
one short fall
on to the
rock
bottom
and I am
everywhere
a mess
a pain
to clean up
I promise
even if you vaccuum
I will still stab you
in the sole
of your soft
foot
when you are least
expecting me

turn the heat up.
I am liquid.
emotions
freely
move about within me
they are
controlling
my decisions
controlling my life.
I am
liquid
most of the time.
you cannot
break me
for I am already broken
into
tiny
molecules
of who I am.
I float
along
in my
state of being
rising
with the temperature.
who I am
makes me angry
it bubbles up
inside of me
popping
splashing
singing
hurting those around me

dont
get close.
dont
show me your skin.
your real self.
I will burn you
when I boil
I will hurt you
stay
away
even though
I ask you
not to leave

my gasseous state
is nothing at all
numbness
i feel
less
than air.
less
than anything
that exists
at all.
I drift
through life
but I have no weight
no passion
nothing
just
a reminder of what I was
who I am
the people I've burned.

the scars i have left
hold more of
who I truly am
than the me that
is myself
in this state.

the smell
is the worst
potent
dank
lingering
long after
I have begun to form the moisture
on your upper lip

you will lick me off
swallow me
please
don't wipe me away
let me
inside of you
I won't hurt
you
anymore
I promise
this one is ok
the dead bird Feb 2016
once I get
the writing juice flowing
it never stops
pouring
over me
into every part
of my life
every conversation
I find myself
making art with my words
or, trying to.

literature,
specifically poetry
has become an escape for me
instead
of substance abuse
or video games
or seeking
attention
I write
my thoughts down
make them
real
take them
by the hand
guide them to the door
and close the door on the way out.
but
I love
watching them leave.
it is the best part.

poetry
is the woman for me.
I have been waiting
for her
searching
for someone
who calms me
pleases me
inspires me
for what seems like my whole life
and we have finally met.
I will hold her close
I will love her
and I will
explore her body
with all of mine
caressing
her smooth skin
with my fingertips,
my mouth
my tongue
I will taste her
and savor it
I will appreciate
all of her curves
and beauty
the flaws, too
she never leaves me unsatisfied
I promise
to never leave her
I promise
to appreciate all of her, always

I never was keen
to the concept
of an open relationship
but she has me experimenting.
I am content
if she sees others
and lets them
appreciate
her delicate, perfect body
the way
the ***
is better than anything else
I would have expected
I'd be jealous
but poetry
is always surprising me.

I have not found
another
I want
nor desire
more than her
but should I ever,
I am allowed
to explore their bodies
as well.
as long as
at the end of the day
she is the one I fall back on.

I have always had a crush on her.
when I was 15,
I tried flirting
but
gave up
when I saw
how others wooed her
so
much
better
than me.
it took time
for me to get enough courage
to try
for her love
again.
she never left me.
she has always been here
waiting,
with open arms
for me
to fold into her embrace
and touch
her *****
making me see
contentment
in her eyes
as they roll
upwards
and she arches her back
in pleasure.

it is
and never will be
better
with anyone else
besides you
babygirl.
you give me a reason to live.
beauty
to this life.
my
wife
The bus started going down this road and I wasn't gonna hop off cause I liked the scenery. Idk. Tried messing around a bit with personification
the dead bird Feb 2016
after I stomped on your heart
and smushed it into the ground
so that the pieces of it
smeared
like graffiti
I then
spit on it
and laughed
and kicked the little bits
that were leftover
into
the drain

so
why is it that
you still won't let me
be alone
when I am depressed?
why do you still
offer me your arm
your company
and conversation
when everyone knows
I deserve none of it

in a way
it makes me hate myself
even more.
like hey,
you totally wrecked
this really awesome
and kind person
hurt them in ways
physical pain could never match
but they still
offer you comfort
and warmth
and somehow
can accept
what you caused them.

maybe,
it's because I was finally honest
when you confronted me
with evidence.
maybe
it's because
I poured my miserable soul
into a glass
and let you drink from it
so you could taste
my depression
and realize it was not your fault
all of it,
everything,
was mine.

I know I've told you
how much I appreciate
the company
and acceptance.
if I were left alone
with my thoughts
I wouldn't be able
to stop crying.
even if we aren't speaking
even
if I am writing
and you are playing video games
your presence
relaxes my anxiety
and silences my depression.
without trying,
you pop a pacifier
into their mouths
and finally,
they stop crying.
I stop crying.

you are a friend
to me
when
I don't deserve it.

you are a friend
to me
when
I need it most.
the dead bird Feb 2016
dont ever stop.
do it, when you're bored,
when you're sad,
lonely,
or *****
don't stop.

save all of them.
keep it somewhere
safe
when you grow
a bit more
you can look at them
and watch
how your writing matured
as you did
too.

this world *****.
like, 95% of the time.
know you are beautiful.
know that there are
hundreds of people out there
who would worship the ground you walk on
so if
someone tells you different
know it is just their opinion
one
out of
billions of others.

know that if you suffer,
you are not alone.
but,
just as importantly,
know your suffering is unique
and just as important
as anyone else's.

put yourself before others
but consider others
while doing so
if you are jealous,
understand
that it is admiration
and as much as that person
may be everything you wish you were
they are not you.

you
are also me
I wish I had someone to tell me
when I was younger
that life is really ******
a lot of the time.
but that there are things
that make the shittiness
worthwhile.
feed your passion.
don't let anyone tell you
you can't do something.
because you
can
at least
try.

your thoughts
matter.
your opinions
matter.
you
matter.
if someone tries
to belittle them
because of your lack
of life experience
let it
inspire you
to prove them wrong.

be yourself
share yourself
with those that deserve it
blow
the seeds of who you are
into everyone you meet
they will grow
watch them grow

you
matter
because you change
every person you meet.
you are an important piece
to the puzzle of life
and one day
you will find a place
that you belong
with other pieces
who fit your edges
perfectly
and who stay close
and comfort you
and who recognize
and appreciate
the beauty
of who you are
like I do.
more in my effort to write about other things besides lust and depression. Things I wish somebody had told me. idk. Literal *****
  Feb 2016 the dead bird
Jay
I love the way you stare at me blankly from behind your coffee.
You take slow, painstaking sips...
It suggests exciting ***.
I love the way you sensuously lick your lips,
every time you put the cup down.
I love the way you're not flirting with me.  
I love that you tell me your **** looks amazing in those leggings.

I know.  

I love the way you say my name-
distantly,
boringly,
disinterestedly.
Your mind a million miles away, on another man-
You tell me how nice his **** is.
I smirk and tell you I'm glad that we're friends.


You're a special kind of torture.
the dead bird Feb 2016
life is strange.
I wonder frequently
why I am conscious
did the me that I am
spring to be out of
nothingness?

"energy cannot be created;
nor destroyed"

what was I, then,
before I became me?
sometimes, I daydream
and imagine
that before being born into this hell
I was just beams of enegy
shooting out
from a supernova.

flying
past
star systems
and
comets
and nothingness
being almost nothing
no
consciousness
not yet

that is just
a daydream.
I am not religious.
but
the concept of heaven
seems pretty ******
to me.
bliss, ****
I don't want
eternal
anything.

I would get used to it.
living in bliss
would become normal
even if
it is a stark contrast
from the way
I am living right now.

no,
personally,
my idea is that
when I die
my consciousness evaporates
my soul becomes
what I was
before me
and I no longer
have thoughts,
or emotions.
that used to scare me.
it's not frightening,
because in nothingness,
you have no concept
of frightening.

you also have no concept of happiness
but none
of sadness either.
no embarassing memories
or boredom
or headaches
or being sick
I won't even
be able to miss my dogs
for I will have no concept of them.

I am not scared
of death
nor
nothingness
I welcome them
but will wait
until I get an invite.

one of the biggest questions
that used to plague me
was
why does anything exist at all?
I don't think there's an answer
as to why.
I think it just does.
and existence
means
experiencing
all of it
the happiness,
the *******
the anger
and depression

duality
is in
everything

I am not horrible
well, in some ways
I am
but in an equal amount
I am also
wonderful
and the same goes for you,
too,
though I see
each side
of the duality of your being
as something beautiful.
trying to write about something other than depression or lust. I don't like it. I feel it lacks passion. But they are thoughts and here they are
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