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Chris Ott Nov 2011
burn what emotions were
left
i don't want them and
neither
do
you

so burn it! and let it catch
wind. let the ashes take flight
and sail away over
foreign territories. they'll land
and slowly be absolved to the earth.
the ashes will be fuel, to drive the planet
forward.

burn it all. i don't want it.
i don't want these feelings
this emotion, this anoesis.
i just want to go numb, again.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
good luck with online dating
i'm eternally painfully, patiently waiting.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
occupy your mind
be aware of your soul
and take care of your heart
only after these three things:
help those loved ones close
to you with the same problems.

maybe if we preached this
in churches and schools,
we'd have less greed,
less corruption,
a real sense of humanity
and a sense of brotherhood.

maybe we wouldn't need to
numb ourselves with botox,
a bigger television set, and
the feeling that we have a bigger
**** than our neighbors.

maybe we could all just progress,
advance, evolve, and invent. such
a bright future! such great dreams
and hope!

no, if they read this
(they won't by the way)
if they read this,
the people who could change
this system,
they would say i'm a socialist
twenty year old, who was too
educated in the university or
wasted it by smoking dope or
that i was a hippie and needed
to get a ******* job like your sell
out fathers did. repeat their mistaken
histories! get back in line! back into
the system son! who the **** did you
think you were? Hemingway? Voltaire?
they never ******* changed anything either.
words never ran a country or built a bridge.
your hands would be better used for tilling the land.
if you won't stop we'll have to remove you from those keys
by force. he's not moving. get ready men. take aim now soldiers.
fire.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
oh sure, they'll tell you in passing
"expect a few sideffects, headaches,
nausea, suicidal thoughts, increased
urination. nothing too worrisome."

what they don't stress is the thinness
that those headaches stretch your mind
out to. or that they never go away. that you're
running to the bathroom twice every ten
minutes, once to ***, and once for the need to
almost *****.

but these are whiny words
in a pharmaceutical world.
even i can see that.
****, bathroom break.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
I dreamt of your face last night
I can't help it. You seep in through
my open window and crawl through
my blankets, up to my head and stay
there. but only until I awaken in morning.

it's not easy to be a poet, infatuated.

I dreamt of your face tomorrow night.
I can't help it. You're in the eight or nine
inches of my skull that were supposed to
be mine alone. and worse, I don't want you
to leave that place. stay in my head, bed, and
dreams.

it's not easy to be a man, infatuated.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
i searched all over the
inside of her mouth to
find my misplaced happiness

and it wasn't until her mouth told
me we're better off as friends
that i began to remember
where i had lost it.
Chris Ott Nov 2011
a cocktail of fear,
self loathing, and ego
swirled into the mist
of love, lust, and longing.
this mixture bleeds into
his words, which bleed out
of his heart, and fall into
places no one sees; pages,
places, and mediums such
as these.

"enough of those poems.
you'll never move on just
writing the same sad verse
overandoverandover again.
jesus, this one is even more
pathetic than the last. whatever chris."
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