Roo 2d



Haven't you heard? Every thought in your brain is poetic.
alan 4d

Hope, my hope, is like honey
sticky, sweet, a drop of it
flowing into a crescent moon of milk
cold, it hardens, stiffly
like the wax it came from, organized combs
they crumble in my brain,
it is not a safe home.
The honey is lost in the dish of milk
swaying side to side of its own accord
the drops of sun, sticky, sweet
they dry up within their hexagons.
Hope, my hope, is like honey
sticky, hardened, useless, gone.

honey and milk

I may create and belong
and language
which seeps so effortlessly
may pull and bind my being into knots
but I bleed for knowledge.
My lungs fill with words and I choke
on memory as it hits me.
Mastery, meaning, crushing definition.
Division, collision,
a crash of colour and lightening
crushing my skull in anticipation.
Knowledge of death
worse than the idea of dying.
Nerves tied into knots
impossible to untie
unless I know the code,
electric pain
with my limbs
flush to the flames.

~~ Sophophobia, the fear of learning. ~~

Your mind is the worst now.

Day 18/31 of my "Six Words A Day" Challenge for the whole month of July, the whole collection can be found on my page on the first of August.
alan Jul 14

The numbers on a scale mean nothing to me,
I care hardly of the size people think me to be.
I consider myself mere skin with a gut,
and the weight on my bones are the thoughts that I shut-
shut in my body and hid under my skin,
my brain isn't the only thought holder within.
Because I don't mind being skinny or fat,
I can't keep every thought concealed under my hat.

Do chubby people think a lot?
alan Jul 12

I walk slowly back into the tattered lobby and press the button in the wall, the elevator door opens and I walk in, my hands numb and dead inside my over-sized pockets.
I watch the elevator number change as I rise, higher, and higher.
The door opens and I walk in, swaying to the rhythm of the common word, chaos.
This is my brain, and it must be repaired, where is my tool box?
"Crilley, come here please. If things happened the same as detailed,
then I must tell you that you, once again, have failed."
I look up and smooth back my hair with a deep breath,
"I know that I failed, sir
I wasn't aware this would occur."
He looks me sharply in the eye, the window to my soul, my mind, my heart. He cannot see anything because they are pale as the moon,
and foggy as a warm summer night in the middle of the saltwater oceans.
"You must help them, they are your friends, you know,
and this childish foolishness, you need to outgrow."
He squared me up and waited for my answer.
"I meant to help, you see,
it's just something that doesn't come naturally with me."
He shakes his head and rips out my heart,
"this is what happens when you are not smart."
He points to the windows of my brain on either side of the room
"go over there,
hurry up and finish the repair."
I walk away, glancing back for only a second. I smash the glass with my bare hand and my eyes begin to form a single tear,
"this common thought should not be here."

Jessie Day Jul 12

My brain is a croissant
It's flaky
And never quite as good
As I want it to be

Inspired by a super weird text from my best friend
Shane Willey Jul 12

Sitting in my chair
Messing with my hair,
I read the essay prompt
My brain felt swamped.

I think of you
What would you do?
How do I concentrate?
Can you demonstrate?

Suddenly, a burst of air
fills the room with flare.
It's that damn door
why didn't I notice it before?

I feel the breeze against my flesh
I regain my thoughts and feel fresh
In, I breathe, clearing my head
Out, I push all thoughts of dread.

I take a sip of my cold drink,
Now I can finally think!
I pick up my pen, oh how daft,
I realize as I write my final draft.

I finished this poem and right as I was about to hit save, my internet went down. So I did my best to recreate the same poem, and I guess I was somewhat successful. Oh the original was such a gem.
Fire Jul 11

And my mind was a dark cloud of thoughts
Hanging over all the things I have fought
It likes to rule my days
And rue my nights
My head is like a maze
It's afraid of heights

But it keeps climbing
And no one keeps up
It's just the timing
I need to grow up

They told me to pick my battles
But my heart it shakes and rattles
And the butterflies want to burst
But my body would die first

So I'd take a rocket into space
To give you all a bit of grace
But I'm chocking on my existence
And all I know is resistance

So I fall and I try to get up again
And I'm fighting the same fight in my brain
And again
And again and again

Turn it off. Like a switch.
Take my pain. Son of a bitch.
My mind is conspiring against me.
It's trying to prevent and arrest me.

My heart was on full and now it's empty
My head was a paradise turned against me.
I hate the nights I just can't remember why I make these mistakes.
Because all it ever did was cause heartbreak.

Please just make it stop.

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