Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jimmy silker Aug 8
Each of these *******
Has hundreds of tenses
If you pair em up
They could be
A dying king's
Incoherent instructions
for last ditch defences.
              
Go Run!
Get Put!
Take Turn!
Stand Set!
Strike fall!

I die! Uuurrrrggghhh.

My liege?!?!?
For Ben Noah Suri.
Writing between the fault lines
and how many times have we
been bitten
written on
washed off the sidewalks?

if the cracks in the sky are where the light gets in
then
we die in the cracks between paving stones.

no one calls you
you watch as you fall and you
feel lighter
the cracks start to close and your chest
becomes tighter
and you wake up in Bognor.
Twisted Poet Aug 8
The human thigh bone is stronger than concrete, a boy in a man's body tells me, as he ***** down a joint trying to **** himself quietly. I find it funny that we weren't built to break, our bodies are so strong it takes trucks to overturn us. the funny thing is, we were designed to survive but they forgot to make our souls strong. sometimes people talk to me about the invincibility of the human spirit, and I think that sounds really pretty but doesn't solve problems like how teenagers are taking their own lives off of shelves as if they were thieves in a seven-eleven. they say the human spirit can endure anything thrown at it, but then how come so many of us hate ourselves so hard we can't see straight?
the human thigh bone is stronger than the buildings we keep killing ourselves in, And I have realised there is a big difference between being alive and living.
I searched everywhere.

Couldn't find anywhere.

Nowhere to be found.

I am lost.
Let et Scar Aug 8
Sometimes my wild soul
Misses the outside
Misses the cold
Misses laying on the floor
Hearing the creaking of crickets
Hearing the rustling of leaves
Feeling the cool breeze brush upon my cheeks
Sometimes my wild heart
Misses the danger
Misses the dirt
Misses the feeling of being alone
No one to miss me
No one to kiss me
Only the moonlight gleaming on my skin
Sometimes my wild spirit
Misses the freedom
Misses the non constriction of the walls that I live in
Misses the feeling of hunting for food
Hunting for shelter
Misses the anonymity of being a ghost
I poem of my hardship in adaptation from homelessness to housed
Next page