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As a little girl
I was thrown into a science lab for an experiment
As I sat in the corner of the dusty, white walls
Thinking about what my childhood could've been without this detriment
And I was too scared to move
The only words that could come out of my mouth was a lament

And each week the scientists would open the door
And carry me to a new place
And then they'd run tests on me
Sticking needles into my arm and face
Then I'd be returned to the dusty, white walls once more
Being put down on the ground with the coldest embrace

And one day after a failed experiment
I was put back in the room, poorly patched
And my vision blurred, my eyes ringed
And my body slowly crawled to the door and latched
And my dying body pushed it slightly, and it opened
And with my final breath, I realized there was never a lock attached.
this is my 60th poem, written on 12/1/23
neth jones Sep 1
i watched a movie today                                            
        and it made me think a lot about houses
what a threat they are to us                                       
                        how they tighten in on our fears
  and contain ***** hobbies
slyly       
    adjust our moods and personalities                             
                  tuning us to match their wallpaper
  their architecture  angling our minds                         
they make us fierce tail tiger chasing captives
presence extends                                                          
                      and we are for always on a leash of expenses                    
            leased out to the world   only for toil                                   

                 houses shelter us from the elements
so that we may lament                                              
                                          and carry our damage
like mourning  through generations                        
                             and fill them with rewarding
     gummy treats                                                                   

                                            what ugliness is made  
         without the weather to worry it all away
...anyway.. that's how i felt                                               
                             after i watched a movie today
Zywa Jul 9
Before I can take

off my hat, I have to wait --


for a good moment.
Play "Happy Days" (1961, Samuel Beckett), played by Antoinette Jelgersma on April 18th, 2023, in Frascati (director Erik Whien)

Collection "Stall"
Jeremy Betts Jul 8
From my view, while side eyeing beyond the periphery
I basically see a place that's not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's the landscape of your own psyche
It's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Begging yourself to set yourself free
But this inescapable captivity is your eternity
But it just occurred to me,
I can't tell if this is free will or destiny...
Did I choose to fall slowly?
Maybe I decided to come undone gradually
Or did some higher power think this was best for me?
Either way's bad news for my trajectory  
Zero possibly of a redemption story
No guts
No glory
Just constantly repeating "sorry"

©2024
Bowedbranches Apr 19
Let it stream
Be believable
be-come a beacon  an
What am I butta heathen

So to me **** talk is a cakewalk
I'll chalk it  always
Straight up Block it outta memry
Non-stop
Vestiges

I Never been so
Non- chalant
Null in void
So numb to it


But sometimes heaven hits

... And after a billion epiphanies
A weakened soul
Can be made redeemable
All on my own now
Had a quarter of a notebook filled from my days at the halfway house most written when im newly out of jail everything is new and fresh and overwhelming... Oh camryn if you only knew what was coming  haha
Jeremy Betts May 2022
(song)

Dark is older than light so that might be why fright is what I'm accustomed to
Neither vast nor confined, maybe both at the same time, it leaves no clue
I don't know how to get my point across to you to help you to see what it is I go through
It's a nothing that consumes my everything, there's not a thing you can compare it to
Similes only vaguely paint the picture, but it helps to toss in a few
If there was only a wind that blew, even once, maybe it would bring a familiar view
But this void in its vastness brings nothing new, allows nothing to continue
It's the solvent to my glue, everything I've done it's managed to uproot and undo
And it's so quiet but yet this silent surrounding is deafening to an alarming degree
In it I use to find beauty, now it's my captor, one of which I'll never be set free
And it's convinced me, or maybe I've convinced myself that I am unworthy
Of anything else and its that false certainty that cleverly keeps me in captivity
I carelessly embraced this darkness that slowly replaced the old me entirely
I scream, cry then whimper softly as the misery slowly embodies me
Then lay back in submittance, in silence and plea for swift mercy
I can't stay in this purgatory so give me my life back or take it from me completely

I feel numb, I feel numb, I feel nothing, there's just nothing, nothing, nothing...
I feel numb, I'm so numb, I feel nothing, there's just nothing here for me

I had light once, I actually got to hold it
But it was a betrayal, only staying for a moment
In its wake the dark returned to claim what was stolen from it
The door was too heavy, I couldn't shut it
The nothing engulfed my everything, I couldn't outrun it
Panic set like quick cement, begin to sweat, my feet became heavy, I began to resent and regret
All those scary movies I watched 'cause I knew for sure that this was it
But that's just it
Nothing happened, I literally mean nothing was the constant
No up, no down, no light, no sound, I couldn't even pick up a sent
Then in an instant it hit me, before my head hit the pavement, I knew what it all meant
Light, so faint and vulnerable, so young and naive
It didn't stand a chance against the dark, give a **** what you believe
Just because you achieve a small glimpse of hope don't think you'll never grieve
When your life starts to unweave that's when the dark races in like a thief
Every religion and belief labels it differently depending on the way they perceive
They have to cause a mind can't conceive it so it almost has to make it make believe
But please believe this is real, don't mis conceive
Best heed my warning cause once you're here you can never leave

I feel numb, I feel numb, I feel nothing, there's just nothing, nothing, nothing...
I feel numb, I'm so numb, I feel nothing, there's just nothing here for me

©2022
Ayesha Nov 2021
Mist, dew and rose.

Three songbirds rose
Their wings quiet—
Weaved a riot—

Breath, then bone and blood
Whispered to noise from, for mud
Let them grieve, let them—
Yet another young note
On the hard-baked stem.
Restrained do not

Cry
Nor bleed or melt a flushed blue
Pearly melodies of sky
Do no do, do not do

Ask of liberty—
Pretty, petty property.
What of birds?
Clumsy drip-dropping words

Only a breath weeps
Only bone shakes
All ballads, the blood keeps
Only the carcass wakes

And silent, silent goes
Into the blooming blue goes—
05/11/2021
mxshti Jan 2021
Dipped in crimson
The sky bruised blue at the edges
Just like on her jaws etched
Didn't complain, could she?

Air of ash and smoke masked
The aura of captivity dusk to dawn,
Using white lighters to see whats infront
Says he was a poet by heart
But recited with scars
With poetry scrambled behind
Cigarette packets
Recital was rather peculiar
She was his muse, and well used
Couldn't leave, could she?

A storm reckless if left both unbound
Like Bonnie and Clyde
Begs to not fall in love
You might be shot, or left stranded
At the eye of the storm
Leaving you wondering why storms are
Named after people
If you love me, do not pick me
As though I am a flower that has just bloomed
So you can marvel at my natural beauty
In the comfort of your small room

Where I sit in a pretty vase on the table
Or underneath glass bounded by a frame
You only show what you want to see of me
As if I am wild flower that you have tamed

You do not acknowledge my leaves
Tightly contained here with nowhere to go
They are hidden in this pretty vase
Questioning the purpose of its own growth

You only see me for my vibrant colour
Will you keep me until you see fit?
When I start to look far from my peak
Will you discard me for another miss?

When I lose the petals that you loved so dearly
And my stem limps against the pretty vase
Would you still care to love me
When you think I've lost all of my grace?

I was beautiful before you loved me
In ways you didnt care to see
How I danced along the howls of the winds
And greeted the butterflies so playfully

How my petals mimicked the warm colours
For a short moment before the sun sets
Or how they glistened against the moonlight
When the storm had finally taken rest

Can you appreciate all of my beauty
When it exists not to serve you?
Would you admire me from afar, knowing in the end
You have no right nor privilege to choose

What you think is best for me
Are only based on your standards alone
And your thoughts regarding what I need
Are only to the extent of what you know

I have grown alongside the harshest winds
I would not settle for a simple breeze
I do not waver against the thunderstorms
I was not made to cater to what you perceived

You see me as a fragile little flower
To take home like a small puzzle piece
So you could complete your picture at home
You took away my freedom for your own greed

Can you be content with loving me
As I am now and as you are?
Knowing you hold no monopoly
Over myself or any of my parts

If you truly love me, do not pick me
Let me stay where I have bloomed
I am content with all that I am
Knowing I am my own muse
M Vogel Dec 2020

Your *******, when love-based
within their beautiful forming,
and then  glorious unfolding
are Love and Light's  extracorporeal
pulsings;
focusing   l o v e t on e d
sonic shockwaves directly at the  machine's
extremely intricate innerworkings..


Having,  through years of horror-based
survival tactics; in desperation.. slowly learned;
now ingrained-- softening up the very
innerwall-linings of your very spirit
in such a way as to unknowingly
provide footing
for the machine's  deep embedment,
and then,  permeation  of all things
previously, you..
having now enwrapped itself into
your very sinews

holding your precious spirit   captive
from the the soar

These passionate, late night forays
outside the wire with you
are not exploitative, but instead
are love-driven  deeply focused,
fully intentioned pingings of Light's
Relational sound waves
aimed directly at the beautiful you
held so tightly, so covetously by the machine
as your wonderfully  nectar-filled body
responds late at night, aligning
to the me, you have come to know..
heightening your beautiful response
to the point of screaming,  passionate release--

your own, fully love based..

      extracorporeal..

unwelcoming,   of the machine.

an ode  to the healing light of relationship
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