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Ian Johan-Gomez Mar 2016
I feel a grim satisfaction as mud splatters on my white shoes.
What an appropriate metaphor for early adulthood.

My problems are not my own.
The sociological imagination has never
seemed so applicable.
We’ve all been dosed up
On dashes of passion,
splashes of intelligence
and just enough anxiety and depression
to approach existential nihilism and
We’re fed these lies of individuality but
We Know
we are only products of our youth and culture,
ones of many in the long production line
We claim
We are Art,
but We Feel
we’re just generated from streams of code,
prepared to fight to the death for
some algorithm that doesn’t even matter
And so I protest
I can’t just be a number
I am flesh and blood,
my knees are buckling under the
weight of this artificial perfection.
I’m not just a number,
My eyes are staring at the
the marks that
determine my worth, knowing
success is my only option
i am not just a number
My sanity is sinking and
drowning and
constantly fighting to stay afloat
But I am not just a number. -
My mind tells me I’m not making it--
How are these other people making it?
I’m determining my worth
on sets of standards that are as worthy as dust
And it is with these standards i am told
I am just a number.

I feel like
I can no longer speak
because I’ve been
shouting
at the top of my lungs
I AM NOT JUST A NUMBER

But my voice
is too quiet
And the world
is too loud.

I’m so tired of trying to be heard.
Yet these words still sound better
when I scream them,
not just scrawl them down
on scraps of paper.


for someone so happy
I'm so very angry.
for someone so happy
I'm so very sad.
JacquelineCalla Aug 2019
Vielleicht steiger,
Steigere ich mich da rein.
Aber lieber steige ich irgendwo
ein.

Als ständig draussen zu stehn,
Immer nur zu, zusehn
Niemals nach meinem Gefühl
zu gehn.

Also komm mit her zu mir,
Weit weg, fern von dir,
Deinen Ängsten, dem jetzt
und hier.
1
a dark, dreary dream it seems-
no fog thicker than it's haze
2
this land is real, it exists-
this place has a sign with its name
3
no map on earth has inked
to draw the arrows to this maze
4
a garden of eternity,
where the rabbits, feral and wolves, tame

5
this place is cloudy,
but each whispy haze weighs a metric tonne
6
the crown on each tree
and their boughs so far up their trunks
7
they form a cloak, impenetrable
that paints it sable against the sun
8
and what little sunlight dies-
in the ebon sea, its flare had sunk

9
there is no light here,
save for an oil-less lamp yet to be lit
10
an ashless bonfire-
wood yet to be gathered and be burnt
11
these pixies have no home
other than the cage one carries them in it
12
these fireflies have no light,
save for what is suffered and learnt

13
the forest makes pub ******
of those who lose themselves there
14
leches of those thirsty
who drink from its streams and creeks
15
they fail and falter and fall on the forest floor,
and the bushes wake back to life and stare
16
these are the sentinels of the forest,
and it is your surrender they seek


17
skulls and rib cages decorate
and hang from the boughs in this forest
18
the beaten trail there is paved
with the bones of the pleasant and their tales
19
the lamps are candles stuffed in the skulls
of the truthful and honest
20
you walk on these and where the bones stop,
you stand on where the last of them failed

21
the night here is neverending,
according to whom have endured
22
when it actually ends,
all memory of its trees and creeks cease
23
each and every soul that stands,
has left footprints here for sure
24
no telling which are the footprints of those,
living, lived, or recently deceased

25
this place is cold,
the clement light drowned out eons ago
26
it's cruel too,
this brumal darkness too tame to **** you
27
it keeps your heart-beating,
pounding down on you with layers of snow
28
it makes you forget the clement light,
makes you forget the warmth your breath once drew

29
how you get there nobody knows,
one wrong step- the forest eats you
30
from the sidewalk, from school to home, into the alleyway,
the forest eats you
31
the door between your room and the living room's screams,
the forest eats you
32
from the covers of your sheet into the noise of the streets,
the forest eats you

33
from the street to an inn, back to the street again,
the forest eats you
34
from the light of screen into the darkness of bed,
the forest eats you
35
from the concave stomachs and a mountain of debt,
the forest eats you
36
the stool between you and a knotted rope,
the forest sill eats you

37
and then, skin hard and frozen cold
since wandering this grove of a thousand broken lights
38
the crown of the trees recede
and the boughs begin to thin towards the opposite pole
39
there is no sun here, other than the immolated torch
of your flesh burning bright
40
there is no sun here,
other than the immolated phlogiston
that combusts at the end of

the dark night of the soul
jza aguilar Aug 2019
so tell me how does one
break free from pain?

how far being okay can be okay?
how stronger does one needs to be?
how many battles do i have to conquer
to end this misery?

because i'm tired spending
each night crying alone,
i'm done lying to people
that it doesn't hurt anymore,
i want to drown from these
unfathomable emotions nevermore.

so tell me when how does one stops the rain?
how does one break free from pain?
190609 23:37
EzraZebra Aug 2019
Ge moet maar is proberen
om door een glazen wand
uw hand uit te steken
Of om uw oren te spitsen
en door een betonmolen te horen
waarover de mensen staan kletsen

Als ge wa zit rond te zweven
zonder te leven, in een zeepbel
zonder naald, zonder een stem
dan is er geen mens die erom zal geven
als ge zonder het te merken
heel voorzichtig en langzaamaan
doorzichtig wordt.

De zwaarte enkel te verlichten
door de leegte te inhaleren
in steeds grotere dosis
en steeds gretiger teugen
tot ge begint te geloven
dat het zo wel beter is

En al zout ge beloven
Uzelf te verplichten
uw ogen te openen
Ge zout het vergeten
en zonder het te weten
uw leven voorbij zien flitsen
23/3/2016
Justin Aptaker Aug 2019
I woke up
opened my eyes
i was alone

and then, just as quickly as the terror had come and passed
the moment was so beautiful that i refused to capture it

Jesus christ
save my soul. Jesus christ, make me whole

the turbulence reached for me
but i was beyond it then
i'd sought for the Spirit
a different spirit came and went
i'm still looking
still looking

but even the inadequacy of words is muted
right now
we are living in different worlds
not only from one another, but particularly from ourselves
the pride of life courses through the brokenness of language
wanting, however, the Spirit of Truth

but i am looking
we are all looking

and just when i'd thought i was barren, She did come again
even in the mess i was in
like a baby, lying in a manger
I woke up
opened my eyes
I was home
Written April, 2019
EzraZebra Aug 2019
Ik ben bang om vrij te zijn, om te leven
Bang om mijn vrijheid weer te verliezen
Bang van het leven om de hoek
Bang van de vlagen van hoop die
het kluwen van angst en verlies ontwarren en
de weg vrijmaken naar doorzichtige
denkbeelden

Ik heb het maar te vatten
Ik heb het maar te grijpen
Gewoon maar zwemmen
zonder verzuipen
23/10/2013
EzraZebra Aug 2019
Starend
Sijpelend zonlicht
Bekladde bladzijden
Overpeinzend, verlies
Deinend, verborgen
getier

Oorzaken, redenen, onzin
Niet genoeg, veel te veel
gewoon verkeerd

Zelfkastijding en eigentwist
Halve indrukken
gedempte kreten

Apex van apathie en egofobie
Dierbaren die doodzwijgen
Leven en leut die uitblijven
Ik zal het moeten ontstijgen
16/04/2013
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