A Child
trapped in flesh and bones

A Child
chained in lies,
bound by norms,
trapped in a civilisation.

A child
chained in expectations,
bound by culture,
trapped in a society.

A child
Consumed by fear,
brianwashed and programmed,
trapped in flesh and bones.

A child
peeking through a window
waiting to be free!
waiting to be, just
A child.
deep down inside, the child is crying out in all of us.
screaming for  freedom.
emnabee Apr 29
I am scared of squares.
Shaped like a prison cell.

Even if it’s padded.
Inside of them is hell.
Do not, I repeat, do not, put me in a box.
goodtea Apr 22
They never tell you
In the books
How weird it is to
Be the fucked up one
Of your friends
They make it sound dark and broody
But they never talk about the distance
And how no one can relate and all
Those awkward pauses and silences
That happen when you speak
Hey they never tell you in
Books and movies
That it fucking sucks
Being the fucked up friend
Bleeding hearts and tragic poetry
Have no space
In real life
And
Sometimes late at night you’ll reach
For your phone and realize you
Have no one to call
Cause when you’re the fucked up
Friend everyone else sleeps easy
And you’re left alone with all your
Demons and truths you can’t swallow
Hey it’s weird being the fucked up friend
hey it’s been years and I can’t get the taste of blood out of my mouth which ok but kinda annoying
Technology is a speck in my eye that I have to address
If I have one more thing to check I’m gonna get upset
This speck is growing - it’s causing me undue stress
My mind is swirling, but I’m still obsessed

I want to take a break from this mess
Social media porn addiction
Life is a mirror I’m just a reflection
The real I isn’t found in this prism

How many accounts do I need?
How many times should I tweet?
Why do people not like me or my posts when I post a selfie?
How come people don’t comment when I say help me?

Countless minds all kept at bay
Wrapped up like gifts on Christmas day
Follow me, says Steve – love Technology
Just don’t do like I do - because I don’t believe

Buy what I’m selling you, it’s called peace of mind
Here, take another hit, it will blow your mind!
Jobs is a dealer we’re all buyers
But damn it, I’m done feeling so dire!

Stuck in the mire, weird desires
I want my mind back - I want to re-acquire it
Psychological bullets rain their gunfire
I just want to be free – just want to be me

How do I get out of the tech penalty line?
Which course should I take which number is mine?
Never immune but I want to dance to a different tune
So, goodbye tech, goodbye world, goodbye “life”, hello soul!
SelinaSharday Mar 12
Left with no suga for lemonade..
You didn't give me any.
Its the bed you made.

My suga hidden locked away I always keep plenty.
Yet you should've  given me some.
You didn't give me any.
Should things become unraveled undone.

Behaviors..
Like gentle flavors
Gifted courtesies.
Texting etiquettes.
Is like a lumpy  preserved sugar cube.
Know that rules in texting has its magnitude.      
Proper mannerisms set for the right attitude.
Like sensual videos from youtube.

Proper texting skills.
Sets the flow for good word adjectives.
If texting don't just walk away.. at least say bye  have a good day.
You were texting me and simply vanished away.
Didn't hear from you till some other day.

No good morning no how are you.
No Sorry I hadn't replied back to you.
The stems that builds proper relationships.
Simple actions that can untie good friendships.
Rude mannerisms, actions, bad timing..too many crazy smilies.
Too much giving, too much doing, way too many gifs cheezies.
Texting at wrongful innappropriate times.
Like at the movies or on a date no good signs.
Manners gone like public phone booths uneeded dimes.

Your rudeness Your going I can't miss.
You have no suga cubes.
Just sour lemons..
Easy to dismiss.

You gave me nothing to make lemonade.
Can't fix this mess you have made.
No suga for lemonade!
By selinasharday all rights reserved..3-2018
texting skills learn some.. like if you were on the phone you wouldn't just hang up,, be kind be considerate.
Am I that easy?
12:22, he doesn't respond
Trial is ongoing

Lonely
And cold
Hush my tongue

Before I strangle
Constrict the story
To my own ends

I believe in results
Goals and dreams
An endgame

Why can't life
Favor me?
I lose all before the game

The jester hinders
Hopeful gain
Splendid retorts

Speechless
Covered in leeches
Bread and butter

Honey and wheat
Seed and rye
Resides in sandbags

A base without sound
Solid land
Isolated island

Flush away
Hide the burn
Feel a stinging gig
#
Bright puffy-pudge rainbow cell
     structures like rounded
     rectangle loaves
So when I had my old number, I would text myself funny ideas and stuff cuz it was easier than opening a notepad app. Well, I changed numbers, but the process was so ingrained, I'd text that old number and for some reason it really pissed the person off. So I've been texting them like once every two months for the past four or so years the craziest shit I think of when I'm high or drunk and they are like WHO the fuck is this!?
diary, confession, poetry, art, edgy
No light but the moon.
No scene but the unforgiving waves,
vast and melancholy.
Here I pace.

A small room built for torment
my punishment persist
As resilient as I am,
I admit
my mind is about to give.

These four wall haunt me.
Small and lonely.

My cell faces the sea
Dull light chases away darkness,
as the outer world calls awarness

This one glimpse I have,
this small gift
for it
I am grateful

my fragile window.
It started out as a short story. I adapted it to a poem
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