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My chest and spirits
Rise in tandem as I breathe
The essence of you
My pen sputters and stalls -
Check engine light flashing
Behind my eyelids
Meruem Apr 2019
While enjoying a good bottle of beer,
A close friend of mine told us:
You should all practice
"The Art Of Not Giving A ****."

I had an immediate idea of what it is about
But I wanted to have a deeper look on it.
As I scroll the book,
There was this one particular line that got me;

"This is why not giving a **** is so key.
This is why it’s going to save the world.
And it’s going to save it by accepting that the world is totally fvcked and that’s all right,
because it’s always been that way, and always will be."

People must take note of this:
Bad things happen and we reach rock bottom,
that's okay!
Stop hating yourself for being so bad and focus on continuosly watering yourself for you to grow.
April 8, 2019 - 01:26

Rose-colored boy still.
Jessica S Apr 2019
Sometimes you have that moment
that one moment
when you walk to your boring job
or to the school that stresses you out
or to the boyfriend that treats you
like you are not that beautiful as that wonderful flower
you see on the ground.
it's the first one this year,
isn't it?
Maybe the flowers started blooming a while ago
but you did not pay enough attention
to actually notice
And in that one, special, hideous moment
you realize that everything in your environment is changing
For a second, just a small, tiny, short baby second
it feels like a new beginning
but then you keep moving, keep walking
to your job, school or boyfriend
and everything stays the same
tragic, isn't it?
ogdiddynash Jul 2018
daily provisioning

wallet  watch  testicles  spectacles
cash (single bills) cell phone
bottle of water   hairbrush with vanity attached,
personal technology baggie
(earbuds, variety of charging cords etc.)
loose change in order to fall from pockets & annoy yourself
sunglasses (idiot! summers half over) and something else...

pocket tissues!

skin and bone, muscle, all flavors and multilayers,
a language of music only you hear,
the pumping station internal, the gaga motion
product of the palette of body following souled emotions,
the antacid pills after that burrito;
and that strangely named thang called

libido?

your teeth  your smile, your shyest guile,
to catch that lady’s hopefully.        
reciprocated pearly whites delight,
pen and pad to record being a sad and mad good lad,
a Swiss Army knife if the tube or bus
should (will) breakdown,
your tiny little bottles of
inspiration  perspiration and perspective,
that you forgot to

label

the list to do and the list
to add to the to do list
and good heavens,
a serious writing utensil
to fool yourself when
thinking serious thoughts like

these

the last but should be first,
the house keys!!
keys just an enabler
to do it all again

tomorrow  




July 11, 2018  10:22pm
Zach Short Apr 2019
some days you wake wondering what it all means.

some days you wake loving everything.

some days you wake - calling back to sleep.

some days you're guarded - some days...meek.

however you are - each day when you wake...

remember: you are - for goodness sake.
love, You.
I want to die

Peacefully, on my own terms
Without pain or hurt

On my own
So that no one

Has to bear a loss
Though they wouldn’t be missing much


•••
Trigger warning ⚠️
(again, just in case)
•••


I often ponder
How I want to die

Do I jump off that balcony,
Or cross that street?
Do I use this knife,
Or just not eat
I’m sorry if I offend anyone. I really needed a quick release.
Shiv Pratap Pal Mar 2019
I Die Daily
Daily I am Born

Life and Death
Both are my Friend

Death is Lovely
Life is Ugly

Death is Cool
Life makes us Fool

Death is inevitable
Life may fail

I like my daily Death
No tension at all

Sleep is my daily death
I enjoy it after all
I Die Daily.  What about YOU?
Neli Mar 2019
Lucifer devoured my ego and soul. His hot, paralyzing thumbs browsed my denuded body. His aura was furthermore malodorous and displeasing than the angst that fired upon my frail, adolescent heart. His feverish gaze that could make mourning widows weak on their knees and pungent in their stomachs. The remarkably satisfying, ivory skin held such unimaginable and lustrous glow. The slicked back hair exhibited his forehead, which seemed to posses nothing more or less than barbarian wisdom. I could almost feel my soul abandoning my body right after his lips urged onto my own, arousing a jeopardy so erratic and abominable that could lead the most virginal and glorified souls to deviate towards pleasure inferno.
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