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Crowd noise — silent tones said under my breath, as my faith’s
HP is beeping so loud, that I’ve learned to ignore it. I’m semi-
crawled, half-walking toward a maze of unknowns, given just
enough truth to fold and tuck inside the mind.

But I guess it’s the advice to mind your step… especially when
overstepping your reach, as the hand that lives in poverty often
feels cut short — and life itself is even shorter. You exercise
your right to live, but the final test is only passed at your passing.
And right now, I’m growing into my own powers, but even I can
get overpowered by my pride — refracted slightly; border-jumping
into lives I was never really invited into. An alien, indeed.

See me hovering like a UFO above heads that don’t know me, but
still see me appear in their atmosphere. And I don’t fully enjoy this
alienation… and sometimes I wish I could just land and be human —
and to actually feel grounded on this Earth, so that the atmosphere
of my prayers don’t feel so tight. As the atmosphere of a prayer feels tighter when the pain of your struggles, wraps its hands around
your ribs — a tightened breath, and even tighter belief.

When it gets so hard to say thanks when you’re hurting, harder
to say Amen when you're unsure if the line still connects. As the
mind feels so crowded — a room full of voices, echoing opinions,
guilt, hope, and noise. And sometimes I wonder if the silence in
between prayers, becomes the answer to help me feel better with
it all.
AI echoes rapture, sin follows fall.
Apple divides permanently. Feet
washed masses kneel. Technology
bleeds incessantly. Judas whispers
secretively. Cheek turned, swollen
red and twice-marked. Snake bite.

Phone: Adam's rib. Our monastery.
8 billion serpentine invocations tempt
slyly. Double-footsteps tread
sharply. Sun bright, all-encompassing.
Dagger's thread cuts warming
wind. God's breath. Now dead.

Meek misers collate heaven's earth.
Inherited wealth un-dispersed.
Blessed persecutors revel. 'Number'
signifying the eternal. Apple divides
permanently. Bread now spread
thinly. Hoard expands needle's eye.
Mariah May 11
Please, please, please
Help me get through today with ease
As a child
With a mother
Who thought me a disease
I hope she gets better.
Gustavo G Apr 30
I am weird  
Born weird  
Since the first breath  
Since the first blink  
I knew it.  
I felt it.  
I was… weird.

And with the weirdness  
Came the pain  
The pain of knowing  
The pain of self conscious
The pain of being... weard

And in that pain  
A cold, cruel hope—  
To change.  
Change.  
Change…



Impossible.  
Change.
Paul Otundo Apr 20
Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety, let's talk about anxiety:

The laughter felt hollow. "Just kidding!" they'd say,
But the jokes they would tell held a sting in their play.
Offensive and cruel, a twisted, mean rule,
"We're not racist, we swear! We've a friend from your school!"
But I was that token, the one they would name,
While behind all the laughter, I felt only shame.
A knife in my back, a malicious sharp crack,
A constant reminder of all that I lack.

One day, I strolled in, a grin on my face,
Reception was cheerful, a welcoming space.
Friends gathered quickly, all happy and loud,
We played soccer together, praised high in the crowd.
“Just kidding!” they laughed, as they tossed me the ball,
But even then, a small shadow began to enthrall.

The next day arrived, and their smiles felt so thin,
Sweet words they would offer, but something felt grim.
“Are you okay?” they would ask, with a glint in their eyes,
But behind all the kindness, I sensed a disguise.
A clinical comfort, wrapped tight in my fears,
The laughter felt forced, after all the past years.

So, I started to distance myself from the crew,
But their antics just worsened, a horrible debut.
Pretending to whip, with their laughter so loud,
Making statements unworthy, they thrived in the crowd.
Avoiding their taunts felt like such a lost game,
But their mockery lingered, igniting the flame.

Now, when I walk on, I feel eyes on my spine,
A scrutiny’s grip, like I’m trapped in a line.
Each shadow behind me, a judge with a scale,
And I’m just the subject in this haunting tale.
The world feels so heavy, their power’s a curse,
I’m lost in the chaos—am I doomed to rehearse?
Written from the tension between belonging and being othered. This is about the kind of "joke" that echoes longer than it should, the friendly fire that leaves bruises. It’s personal, it’s social, it’s quiet harm loudly felt.
Aster Mar 30
existing only in the memory, in the mirror
sublime image, a dotted line
wanting, crashing, writhing fatally
imaginary conversations, air drawings

no friend to call mine, intimacy denied
crunchy brain turning to foam
classes blurring, ears ringing
banging the floor till wrists are bruised

profanity, cruelty, pretty girls hating
feeling unwanted by boys (and the girls)
invisible or dissolved?

dishonoured, disgruntled, disillusioned, disenchanted
how right I was all alone
my subconscious mind sending tremors
       disconnection with my own spirit

"I am" I constantly whisper to myself
  in the little gaps of time I'm not dissociated
   fully aware of my material,
                                    not a vaporised form
that I assumed from the treatment of others

vapours solidify, vaporise, dissolve and vanish
Kyle Kulseth Mar 25
Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of knowing I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.
David Hilburn Mar 23
Vampires with flowers
Don't notice me with when
Hero, I came for you, before it sours
Like-wise, with anarchy's cowl, I don't sin...

Happy, is a dire field?
Here is my moon, my first more
Does a ******, increase the yield...?
Naivete; is this moon the beginning of a war?

Woe be a seemly world...
Of the same house of prayer...
As a wholesome lip, that, becomes a cherub
Ask me now, if vampire's share...?

When flowers earn a smile...
A shared essence, a lethal ball
Has rolled and rolled, ruling a while
In front of a noble season, for which I have invented a wall...

With me, there is altogether...
Without me, there is a pride in a rage
Withheld from me, is your kindness to bother
With a bared flower, have I seen patience, age?
What if I told you vampires own a crush of existence,
Maryann I Feb 21
Footsteps echo through empty halls,
a voice left speaking to the walls.
The sun forgets to warm my skin,
the air is thick, the world wears thin.

I reach for hands that don’t exist,
fingertips brush the air in vain.
Laughter drifts from distant streets,
but silence sings my name again.

The night hums low, the moon stands tall,
but I have no one left to call.
My words dissolve, they go unread—
a story told, but never said.
2. Isolation and Loneliness
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