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Joshua Dougan Mar 2018
I run and I run away from those feelings.
I drug up my lungs, I pray for soul healing.
But I'ma mute, it's truth with shady dealings
I recuse and lose, it is my daily beatings.
It's got a grip on my throat, my heart in a vise
And I trip over my goals with hardened advice.
A charcoal ladened vice and a pardoned crime.
It Leaves me crippled, like im charting high tides.
If you need me to spell it out you won't understand.
You see me in hell, a self inflicted somber glance.
An argument with one helluva colder trance.
A trance that has me blundering over chance.
You can try to help me but you will fall short.
Cause this monster is huge, with a long cord
Wrapping it around my neck, tears drawn.
Drowning, all around while these fears spawn.
Generalized anxiety with obsessive compulsion and silent depression.
NRIKO Dec 2017
you are the fundamental sin,
a new ******'s oasis.

the night has come,
no one is hard to please.

feeding off of your emotions,
the portal to your gentle vulnerability
which i lack-
i want your bones, your flesh;
i want your pale skin, your soul;
riddled with my purple euphoric prose.

i look out
for your words to expose
and expose more and more
of your cracked skin.

you need love, red skin
and wet lips without blood
blooming underwater-
and i need another
warmth i cannot
contemplate.

entertain me,
entertain me,
show me what i am obsessed with.

eozyoh.
13.12.2017.
12:41.
i want to over-indulge again.
Jonathan Finch Dec 2016
The tired lock gives
like gossamer.

An old incomprehension
grasps him.

It is a fever
turns him on
like sexuality:

the brute air spanning
nights of stealth:

the steel pick's
quiet manoeuvre
into place.

He loves
the delicate return
that leaves
the loud alarms
intact.

The night lights
fester on his face.
You find him
where the cold streets meet

deliriously clutching at
the shiny packet of his sexuality.

It is a time for cryig
but this *******
has a flavour few will try.

Each undressed woman
draws him on:
a simple thief
who will not buy.
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Sometimes everything in real life can be going really great
but in your mind for some reason on a night when you're alone everything seems to be crumbling.

On a friday night like tonight.

When i went home and thought about the bonfire I was invited to
thought about friends
thought about how I had no idea what my relationship life was right now
thought about how it was so frustrating that I couldn't find my glue gun for weeks

binge watched tv

ate

put away clothes

found some pictures of myself, pictures of an insecure youth who hated her body more than anything in the world. a girl who cried. a girl who was disappointed that she didn't look like barbie now that she had become a teenager. a girl who wore a lot of makeup to look pretty and cover all her acne. it didn't cover the acne just gave her a little barrier from the world. A girl who wore push up bras and straightened her hair every day and sometimes wore a bow in it.  she hoped that boys would notice her or like her. A girl who was upset when they didn't. A girl who had no idea she liked other girls.

put on some lipstick, smeared on black eyeliner, patted on blue to my eyelids, put my hair in a cheerleader bow

tore apart two closets trying to find my ******* hot glue gun

more tv

thought about how i felt dehydrated
thought about the mess i made from looking for the hot glue gun
considered cleaning it up
considered texting someone

glue gun

glue gun
glue gun
glue gun
This poem details the crumbling and out of control feelings which can arise from one simple thing going wrong. This is written in my stream of consciousness and shows the obsession and fixation on the glue gun.
Thank you. x
Dreams of Sepia Aug 2015
I will not write any poetry tonight
somewhat colder is the night
the cedars sleep
the cat is right
to curl up in dreams
so I will not write any poetry tonight
besides, how many can you write
(unless I want this graphomania,
that some say is our life)
the cedars sleep
the cat is right -
I will not write any poetry tonight
but watch time creep
until the dawn
AM Jul 2015
He always moves his legs
whenever he sits down
like he has this rush
going on in his head
or maybe—just maybe
he’s always ready to run
and left everything
everything he has
so far away
that nobody is able
to stop him
or get him back
Brendan Sansome Jun 2015
I am in an eating mood today.
A wag would say 'sure what's new?'
But I know the difference.
It's a matter of control and
Today I have no control.

I'm in the grip of it today.
An optimist would say 'think yourself lucky.'
Because it's not drink or drugs.
It can often feel as hopeless and
Today is a hopeless day.

I worry about my weight today.
A cynic would say 'just stop eating.'
Sure all it takes is willpower.
But willpower is not for the weak and
I feel weak today.

I will try to rise above it today.
A pessimist would say 'can't be done'.
But I can't listen to myself anymore.
I need to stand up taller and
Believe tomorrow is not today.
kennedy Feb 2015
Sometimes the impulse to write is in my bones and buzzing in my brain
My skull shakes and the voices feel like and earthquake
For me, it's always been a disease
An unforgiving compulsion that stops me in my tracks
These words escape, Christ, I don't even think
It's like being possessed
So I picked up this ******* red pen to perform an excorcism
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