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David Cunha Feb 10
Vibrant despair blowing out like sand paper from the soul
Dreams of colour
Fearless hallucination of love
for the World

A stream of consciousness so pure and thick
like a raw gem
like a river
like a marching bull
Painfully fulfilling me full

I could run for miles if I had the Sea to sightsee
if I had the Sun gleaming on me
if I had your figure in memory
even if I had nothing and wasn't meant to be

A fuel that bursts my pupils into a huge void
and so
a rocket to the Moon and my hands on this keyboard
setting the stage for another round

I cannot be stopped, I can only be blunt
I can only do it
I can only run
Veins bulk in a steaming rush
and thus time disappears like a fog

I am lucky I am here
- David Cunha
february 10, 2024
5:16 a.m.
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2023
her hesitating beauty
over a hundred days
each a silk thread
each a dark pearl

kissing specifics
in the empty space of a matinΓ©e
hologram of the new sun
burning like prime meridian, the hunter's star

ripples of inhibition, making waves
and confessions in
the deep end of a pool

always submissive with a smile
like holding her breath underwater
Brumous Oct 2021
We never stopped dealing with this procrastination,
but what is this fleeting elation?

The clock is moving in such motion,
one would think that it's your imagination;
Was it all an exaggeration?
I guess that I'm back.
π–‡π–šπ–“π–™π–”π–“π–Œ π–π–Žπ–“π–Žπ–“π–Œπ–† = π”ž 𝔑𝔒𝔒𝔭 π”žπ”²π”‘π”¦π”Ÿπ”©π”’ π”Ÿπ”―π”’π”žπ”±π”₯

Brumous Jun 2021
thousands of them
I hear each day
the beat of adrenaline
is enough to tire me
I like to retrace some moments with that kind of rush, even if it is a little violent; like the time I slipped and nearly dislocated my ankle; I was in too much shock that I had shortness of breath, and I barely heard a thing that I tried having the air of a fan going through my ears to at least calm me down. But, I don't really like being unable to breathe properly; I remembered crying so much that time; there was a power cut and a storm.
GraciexJones Jun 2021
You’re a storm in summer,
So fast-moving and out of the blue,

You’re like the first day of Spring,
Blooming and slowly rising,
Amongst the decomposing earth,

You’re like a shifting darkness,
Hard to tell where you start and begin,
Filling the space with your whole being,

Your firelight flares up like a firefly,
So bright and fluttering through the twilight,

Your eyes glow with a glace of gold and rose,
So fired up on adrenaline,
Running through the countryside like a wild fox,

Your depression is like the deep artic sea,
When it gets so heavy you crawl into your shell,
So desolated with your own thoughts

You’re like a broken violin,
So beautiful but splintered with visible scars,
From the lovers who had misled you in the past
Madisen Kuhn Mar 2021
maybe i leave it all till the last minute because some gritty part of me loves the rapid pulse of pulling back right before the truck turns the corner and blows through the stretch of hot asphalt i was just lying down and burning my skin on. it tears down the road, out of sight, and i’ve still got all my limbs intact. maybe almost failing feels a bit like cheating death, like how breathing feels after a contest of who can hold it longer in the motel pool, or how good a glass of ice-cold water tastes after downing a bag of potato chips. there are plenty of hours in the day. i could wake up at six or sleep in till noon and it wouldn’t make much of a difference. i’m just a girl who loves the taste of scraping by.
Broke my hand cycling. I fled, away
from something; chasing my psyche.
Felt nothing. Earth-grazer.
Rush of adrenaline. I fall, anger
turned inward does harm unto me;
I see myself spiraling.

They gave me a pair of local anesthetics
for the surgery, not psychoactive (although
the level of physical detachment was curious).
The nerve-block employed lidocaine, bupivacaine,
And the latter was mixed with epinephrine
to increase its duration of action:
This resulted in shivering and anxiety.
I suppose it is the archetypal stimulant.
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