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Kyla Jun 11
she keeps one finger on the steering wheel
some of the time, a half *** deal
she speeds because she’s perpetually behind
but deep down at the back of her mind
should an accident just happen to occur,
this would ensure that she would not recur.
should cancer take her body as its host
her reaction would perhaps be more positive than most
for no one would reason her apathetic bent
the why, when she would not opt for treatment.
she danders in storms because she would rather like
to be the victim of a lightning strike
she knows it’s selfish but
she can’t help but wish
there was a collateral free option to cease to exist
all she wants is to simply fade
to softly escape the mess of life she made
it ebbs and flows, the urge to act is tidal
hence why she is termed; passively suicidal

sometimes i let go of the wheel
Randy Johnson Jun 11
A talented man has died and he's gone for eternity.
Prentis Hancock has died at the age of eighty-three.
This great man came into this world in 1942.
He starred in "Space: 1999" and "Doctor Who".
Millions are mourning because his life came to an end.
They are all sorry because they will never see him again.
He was a very important member of the Human Race.
It's sad to know that he's dead and can't be replaced.
When I say he went to Heaven, it's something I'm certain of.
All of his fans are saying goodbye to this man who they love.
DEDICATED TO PRENTIS HANCOCK (1942-2025) WHO DIED ON MAY 30, 2025.
Darvin Ray Jun 11
A prisoner
of my own desire,

balancing
the slippery *****.

“This time I’ll be better”
I say -

Unknowing
of what lies ahead.

Weeks go by,
the urge returns.

I must do something fun,
something to numb the pain.

And now -
the snake eats its tail.
Damocles Jun 11
The tide relentlessly steals from the shoreline,
Leaving me here, sun-dried with Eden’s vines,
Yearning for a day when I’ll be called into the ether,
Deeper into the abyss of my own death,
A tombstone for my ego.

The tide repeats,
Tearing into the sands and erasing the tracks that led me back to this home,
Destined to collapse like a lung when truth punctured like a spear,
Deflating my dreams in a sigh that echoes across the horizons.
I drown in shallow waters,
Floating face down,
searching for my ego.

Deeper I fall into sacred waters,
Shrouded in darker blues that color me in nothingness,
Allowing me to start over.
Bioluminescent coral leads me to a corridor I’ll spiral into,
Bathing infinitely in my own shadows,
Halting eclipses while redefining my ego.

Love could have been a salve,
A life raft to lift me from this hell,
A distraction if only you knew me well.
But I can’t control myself,
Lost in a night loop,
Playing the same songs,
Caught on this **** raft,
Tied like a martyr until the tide comes and it takes what it wants.

Further down in the depths,
Sacred lullabies sing me off.
I only wanted to save you from yourself,
But as the sleep washes over,
I’ll search forever in my dreams.
Ever feel like you’re drowning?
Watch this, another one bleeds
Another life lost to the feed
It’s a circus! And we’re all laughing desperately!
This is it! Our collapse is televised, monetized and livestreamed!
Wanted to use this for a song, but didn't manage to.
The bread, eaten by men with tired jaws, their spirits dull in their cloistered mouths. People chew without flavor, without desire, without butter, without anything; these individuals prefer cake.

“But really, this can’t be right, tell me!”
Like mold, everything withers around you!
“Why do dreams fade away at the break of dawn?!”
Even the pale sun no longer awakens their hunger.

Alas, a man is found, dead! A pale face, his head covered in blood, what a vie en roses! The bread, never touched, was not far from the body.

“Oh, how ugly this man is!”

After a few moments, the crowd understands one thing: before his death, he was eating cake.
"At length I remembered the last resort of a great princess who, when told that the peasants had no bread, replied: 'Then let them eat brioches.'"

--  Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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