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Port Rose Oct 2013
We're all so
self invested
everyone is eating themselves alive
and no one thinks its mutual


We're all so special aren't we?
we are the main ingrediant
the cookie is just made to enjoy the butter
all the other ingredients are just here to compliment us


Everyone shares the pain
and bears the shame
of humanity
"all alone"


We're all "me"
there is "he" and "she" and "we"
but to he, "we" is "she"
and he, will always be "me"


Why should anyone want to be anyone
when you could be no one
and not have this confusion
of who is who
Oct 2013 · 306
All I do is
Port Rose Oct 2013
I crave and i crave
and i crave and i crave
and i
STOP!!
STOP STOP STOP
STOP!!
less of a poem and more of an angry note
Oct 2013 · 1.2k
Drip Drip Drip
Port Rose Oct 2013
Drip drip drip
want and plan and
prepare and wait,
overthinking can get you far,
into insanity

moving so fast theres too much to do,
so little time, so what do you do?

nothing

how long has it been
i cant figure out time
i cant figure out me
or the cheat cods to live right,
and im frustrated i can't finish
too many thoughts in too little time

all this and the next drop hasnt even fallen yet

drip
oh there
drip drip drip
a.n.- i know it doesnt make much sense, kind of composed hastily you see, trying to jot down thoughts in real time, i supposed the drops could be a unit to measure the time, hopefully it will come across the way it was intended
Oct 2013 · 845
lethargic apathy
Port Rose Oct 2013
My belly is warm
My legs feel like jello
My mouths full of pudding
while i sit in a medow

My eyes are half mast
My limbs are askew
Clouds roll by and,
I don't think of you.
Oct 2013 · 496
regards to the death of me
Port Rose Oct 2013
death, it picks at your soul
and your very weak spot
that gets scared
of thoughts and ideas,
boredom crazed
half insane
looking for release,
but in your mind
i'm sure you'll find
exactly what you'll need
so stay in you spot
stay there and rot
in you shiny..
pristine..
routine.
Oct 2013 · 316
the death of me
Port Rose Oct 2013
Routine will be the death of me
What i crave will be the death of me,
What i crave is routine
routine is what i live
Life will be the death of me

— The End —