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lucidwaking May 2022
---TW: themes of self harm---


I'm hungry,
******* hungry.
I'm not really in the mood
For the moldy apples in my fridge.
My brain is hungry though,
******' hungry.

A nagging, a pulling, and a tapping.
The urges crawl to and fro in the back of my skull,
Like drunken, confused spiders.
I roll my eyes back
To take a peep at the spiders,
And I stare at them for a while.
Their clumsy crawling is mesmerizing;
I can't look away, even though I want to.

The stomach growls,
The skin quivers,
And the aroma rises.
The blood running in my veins,
Along with the goosebumps on my skin
Are tantalizing.
Why does it smell better than any actual meal?
My thoughts begin to narrow in on my hunger,
On my skin,
And on my hunger,
And on my skin,
And on the box cutter,
And on my hunger,
And on my skin.
Eventually it's all I can think about,
God ******.

I bite and groan;
I bite and wail.
The guilt consumes me,
But the hunger consumes me
With an even sharper bite.
Not actually about cannibalism - I was using that more as a parallel to discuss the themes portrayed in this piece. It was a tough one to write.
maria Mar 2021
Being in love
with you
(O)
Written on March 23, 2021
© ,Maria
Caleb A Johnson Jan 2021
Your evil made me hungry
and I'm coming back for more

I don't even give a ****
That you don't like the poor

You can go ahead and **** someone
If it will start this war

I've been starving for so long
I just can't take it anymore

Your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Even if I don't catch a break
At least I'll know what it was for

I don't care to have a Cadillac
As long as you don't get to have yours

I'll turn my back on everyone
If they won't quit what's made me sore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I'll do whatever you tell me to
I'll be your favorite *****

I'll show you all my anger
And be a bigoted bore

Just as long as you don't forget me
And relish in my gore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I don't need no learning of facts
From someone who knows more

There is no one who can take
From me what I've been looking for

Even if you prove me wrong
I'll believe it even more

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Now the boys in blue have turned
And thrown me to the floor

And you won't even look at me
You don't need me anymore

But that's ok because I broke it all
Those ******* who we tore

From their exalted places
From their more noble lore

It was your evil made me hungry
And I will always come back for more
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Intrusive image invading unstable imagination

Bursting bright bringing bouncing bobbling bits of bubbling illusions into brain

A memory of magical messy minutes moseying and mingling
A menagerie of magnificent moments miraculously marked in my mischievous mind

Coming into chaotic corners of cornea calmly
Cruising without cares
Memory
newpoetica Nov 2020
there's so much to do,
so much to see.
so much to view,
but where do i see me?
in all of this chaos,
where is safe and free?
in so much change and loss,
my faith in a happy fate is weary.
haven't written in a while.
Olivia Catherine Aug 2020
A tavern built on misdeeds and insurrection,
House of rascals, whisky and imperfection
A hideaway for rebels and racketeers,
Where drinks are served to outlaws and mutineers,
Where the pianist plays for pirates and privateers,
Where the wicked and the wayward can be served,
And are respected however undeserved.

It’s a rag-tag bunch of outlaws and anarchists,
A cavalcade of rough revolutionists,
So come on in my dear insurrectionist,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Come and join our banished battalion,
Join our cause, oh revered rapscallion,
So calling out to nature’s abominations,
We’ve got bourbon, bombshells and indignation,
Come and wait for imminent and sure damnation,
No matter what your deviance may be,
Come and join the drunken reverie.

It’s a monument to lost souls and deviants,
A shrine to every small disobedience,
A riotous, cathartic experience,
Where radicals are safe from reprimand,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Welcome back, my worshipped renegade,
To the place where freedom’s sweet as lemonade,
Where skanks and outlaws, sing so intoxicated,
The anthem of the unkempt and agitated,
The mantra of the evil and of the hated,
Laughing as they sing their merry tune,
Unified by their impending doom.

It’s a testament to chaos and anarchy,
A haven for the worst of humanity,
A house of lawlessness and profanity,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.
Ashlyn Yoshida Jul 2020
No
Surrounded
Unheld
my hand please
I can't let it be taken
Black around white
a single speck
static in my ears
can't take it. not my hand
found
around
backwards
static in my ear and lots of it
I see spoken words in writing
people turn away when hurt
I'm stuck staring
not my hand.
no noise to block out my thoughts
speck
black
white
repeat each step without hesitation
listen, follow, no thinking allowed
I break it as soon as it's said
Frannie Jun 2020
My mind is chaotic, I can't silence the sound.
Too late to back out, there is no turning around.
What's left what's right what's up what's down?
Too late to go back, there is no backing down!
Chaos everywhere, thoughts are racing.
My feet have their own mind, I can't stop them from pacing.
I want to run and hide but my feet are planted down,
Too late to go back there is no turning around.
Just hear me out, one thought at a time
Too crowded, too cluttered, too many thoughts for one mind.
My mind is chaotic, I can't silence the sound.
Too late to back out, there is no turning around!
Is the world any brighter
    than what I can see,

    Everything is so dim
I'm unable to see any glee,

  Stuck sitting here wondering
how the world is suppose to be.

Silently crying my eyes dry
    as I'm lost to the fray,

Because the world is quite chaotic
     thinking what can I even say,
  
    Wish I could see some color
but all I see is this world of gray.
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