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mediocrity Feb 2018
Itchy scritchy
Creepy crawly
Something in my skin.
I pick and scratch to free
Fictitious bugs that squirm within.

Whump-a thump-a
Thudd, thudd
Pounding in my ears,
Punctuating every sound
with thrums like stabbing spears.

Wiggle wobble
Swoopy swirly
Motion fills my eyes.
Saturated, inundated,
Stillness its disguise.

Shaky shaky
Static in my limbs,
***** them tight together
Til the chaos finally dims.

In the quiet, darkest, smallest space
I sit and reminisce
Of back when just existing
didn't make me feel like this.
the world is an overwhelming place
mediocrity Feb 2018
On a bed of wet sand and seaweed left behind
by the receding tide rests
a seashell,

A testament to survival of even the softest forms of life,
now fractured and empty but
still beautiful.

Press it to your ear and listen closely. Can you hear?
That distant roar like crashing waves?
The ocean? No, it's

A song sung in low, muffled moans, a lamentation for the
hollow space inside that was once called
a home.

Lamentation for an existence that once held purpose,
to protect and defend seekers of shelter as a
glistening shield, not

A shell too cracked for all but the most desperate of
hermit ***** to hide in for more than
a moment.

The seashell weeps, for it can do nothing but lie,
beautiful and useless and

Crying too softly to be heard
except by those who

Until the day when a warm, gentle hand scoops it from its
lonely bed of sand into a bucket with
reverence and care

To take it to a place far from the ocean's teeming depths and
the beach's salty shore,

To be ground to luminescence and serve as the star
of eye-catching jewelry that frames the face like
a work of art, or

To adorn the sand castles of children that will inevitably be
washed away, though never forgotten, like
childhood itself, or

To be a cherished memento of that day when you tossed your
fears into the sea and walked away with a sunburn and a
fit of infectious laughter.

The seashell weeps, cradled in its simple plastic bucket,
a ferry into the unknown where perhaps,

That which is
hollow and
broken is
sometimes tho u gotta pick u up and throw u in the gotdamn bucket urself
mediocrity Feb 2018
A puppy licks
its *******,
your feet,
dead things,
the floor,
old underwear,
its ******* again,
then your face.

You wipe your mouth and laugh,
"What a sweet girl
to give me kisses!"
tears gathering in
the corner of your eye because
you've never been happier.
i have a dog and also depression
(  *゚▽゚*)ノ.。.:*・゜゚・*
mediocrity Feb 2018
A cut above the rest
By kitchen knife or chainsaw
Bleeds just the same.
mediocrity Feb 2018
Lead bricks,
breath thick,
Am I drowning or
just barely keeping
my head

Dark water conceals
curious creatures nibbling at my skin
  nip   nip   nip
Innocently making off with
itty bits of my raw flesh.
If I stop struggling,
give in and
They go hungry.
I go free.

My heart resolutely pumps
viscous, sticky life
(like honey)
slowly through my veins.
What's the rush?
The roar in my ears accompanying
is absent.
Sink or swim,
the outcome is the same.

I breathe deep
And feed the fish.

— The End —