Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Dec 2017 loser
luci
fake.
 Dec 2017 loser
luci
the most
absurdly
exhausting
of all labours
is the distasteful art
of pretending to be
someone
else
don't waste your energy on hiding who you are
 Nov 2017 loser
zero
She's taken your body wash, and used it without permission.
She's used it twice before and
presumed it would be fine to take it again.

You never gave consent.
You even said No.

She's used it twice before so what's a third time,
or a fourth or even a fifth,
she's just hoping you won't snitch and tell someone
she stole something from you...
Your confidence or your peach shampoo?

She lied about the temperature of the bath water,
you were supposed to drown
before you felt the heat,
but you didn't and now you're
tearing your skin to shreds,
Self-destruction on the first date,
how sweet.

She wants you to wash your mouth out,
you said something you shouldn't and now she's mad,
feeling sorry for you is in the past,
the new thing is drowning you in the bath.

Your heads now under water,
feet kicking the floor.
She's doused you with her perfume,
just to see you choke against the wooden frame of the door.
Abuse in calming rooms of peace,
with people you once loved.

Watch out for the screams,
they're muffled underwater.

-Z.xo
 Nov 2017 loser
Carl Velasco
I feel like a failure today

Dancing around in my underwear



Open the fridge: junk food.

Don’t want to eat it. Take it, eat it anyway



Are you my conscience?

Tell me where my wrists are, then.



So it sounds like I’m

Stuck. I’m too good at life to feel depressed, but



Here it is, like a medal that finds itself on my neck every morning

Heavy on my ribcage.


It's either crippling sadness or abnormal, sudden fits of joy.

No balance yet. Furrowing in the middle is messy.



Zero friends. No boyfriend.

So bored. For the first time ever



I laughed while jerking off

Because what’s the point



Of pleasure.

Neverends, pleasure.



I open an unread book, then I

Close. Open another. Close again



Watch TV for a while

Wash my face



Look at old photographs of

My mother.



There’s this one. Me, a child.

My mouth singing to her hairbrush, pretending it's a mic.


Then another, me about to

Eat cake



And my mother

In work clothes



Smiling for the picture, cutting

The cake. I wonder how



Much she bought it for at the time.

I wonder



What people thought in the ‘90s

When they see a girl with short hair



Bringing cake home, holding

It by the string, suspended



Like a present.

It’s a nice photo.



It’s one of the nicest photos

I’ve seen of my mother.



Today the sun is out

For a while.



Maybe sunlight can help

Me feel anything



Other than dread.

I lust. I falter.



I put the junk food foils in the trash.

I feed the birds and, I praise



The Lord.

Sorry, lord



The breadth of your kingdom

Is lost in plain, bored me.
 Oct 2017 loser
sadgirl
froyo
 Oct 2017 loser
sadgirl
after kaveh akbar

you'll get it over it* - lil *** vert

oh ***/beast/gun/green/baby boy
i tried, but my stomach nearly

disintegrated, my skin nearly
slid off, leaving me red as a anxiety-

irritated wound, i nearly
killed myself, & i'm not

just joking, like kids
at my school who

yell go **** yourself
across the hallways,

no,
i'm not that immature

sometimes you remind me
of my mother's disappointed eyes

when i rolled up
my sleeve,

and how she took me
to get frozen yogurt

afterwards
she told me not to

go crazy on the candy,
but i drowned myself

in mochi, because
i couldn't drown

myself in real
life
Inspired by Cotton Candy by Kaveh Akbar.
Next page