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Bowedbranches Jul 12
Haven't set up an alter
In I dont' how many moons
The few times I tried
I truly knew the futility of it
And understood
That security, for me, is fleeting


Just another thing
That seems so easy for the others
Oh no dont applaud
My  baby brain  for its
Whining,ll just make it worse
So the other day after
I snatched the sage you left
For me outside your window sill
(Thank you btw)


I instinctively started
Making YET ANOTHER ALTER
Then broke down for the 5th time that day
"How could someone like you ever deserve a home"
Then I had remembered  
That Im not allowed to
Have a safe space

I'm a drifter
Pushing the limits
My health is at risk
Every minute
No one to care
Whether I die or live  

Sitting on my hands
In a thicket
Praying wishing waiting thanking
God that I woke still broken
Throwing up stuff
Everytime I tried to move

Hunger
Hurt
Thirst
Hate
Anger
Thankful
Stay low
on your toes
Heatstroke
Dryheave
Please No
Please make it stop
Oh god here it comes again
My Sweat drips endlessly
Chiggers bit my skin
So it wont quit itchin'

Bites that bother until next week
Typical....
All I want is a place to hang my hat
Or hopefully lay my head without trip wires surrounding
Me
All I want is to oggle my alter and call on my angels and my God
Without being on constant alert
Watching my own six

Bc your own brother will turn on you
Don't get comfortable
Dont relax
Dont unpack
Dont believe
A ******* thing they tell you
Prove me wrong then

Haven't had a mfr not turn
Haven't seen anyone actually keep their word

And why cant i set up an alter without it being destroyed?
My week has been hectic sporadic challenging. This poem was written in bits throughout the course of this week i realize im all over the place and my head space is caving in
Ara Jun 18
a stranger points to a smoke sign and asks if i smoke; i say no
now that stranger is a friend and my no is a sometimes
and i wonder if it was a warning when he said that smoking was bad.

had i known, i would have answered the anxiety is worse and the cancer can't really **** me when i already feel dead inside.
instead, i waved him off with a laugh that meant "i know. isn't it obvious?"

...

the rot caught up to me two years later, outside the same bar where i'd pestered another friend into putting down a box.
it was a betrayal then, when i brought the sick to my lips and inhaled the poison.
it was a betrayal again when he found out.

i tried to appease the scolding,
argue that i've stopped smoking.
would it be a betrayal now to say
"i still think of rot and decay"?
Copyright © 2021 Aranza V. Soto Torres. All rights reserved.
Devin Ortiz Jun 18
Life has always been about the decaying permutation of possibility.

When you are young, the infinite paths sing with endless potentials.

These branches are primed with the indifferent hands of time.

Choice still exist, as it always has, yet the narrowing is haunting.

It is that inevitability is that hangs around in ominous fog.

Approaching that finality is a journey of bittersweet grace.
Marla Dantes Aug 2019
Humanity is nearing it's watershed
and yet the world still lays dying.
We look to the stars for the future
as the ground withers beneath our feet.
Medicine is advancing constantly
while people lay starving to death.
Our world has a bigger economy than ever,
with its abundance of manufacturing
and ever progressing technology...
Everyone could live free and in harmony
with everything that we have achieved,
but the poor are still laid to waste
by the fat thieves and their machine.
Eat the Rich
Johnnyqu33r May 22
Decomposing flesh somewhere secret
Where ribs have become a latter
For the wild roses to climb
Accompanied by the ivy vines
Baby's breath and aromatic thyme

No soil covering like that of a duvet
Fully exposed yellow green and gray
Sun-dried freshly plucked from life
Crown of flowers sitting crooked
Lips curved as if they were smirking

Because I made you promise me
When oxygen escaped me forever
To drape me amongst the fauna
In the exact location that you whispered
"I wish you were ******* dead"
muteD May 20
Agonizing over you is what I’m best at.
The memories of us scream through my mind
during the times I should be sleeping.

You’re all I can think about,
even though I’d rather forget you.
You’re all I want,
even though I know you’ll never want me..
Again.

I wish I could forget you.

But, instead I’m ablaze
in the memory of us.
While you simply wander through the streets of life,
I seem to be streaking.
Every street consumed by fire,
I miss your heat.
Your warmth.

but decay and destruction are all I know now.

Who knew that it would be your love
that would burn me alive?
late night thoughts are the worse, but they make for great poems.
Lucy May 9
I am crying
Crying out in pain
This suffering I feel
There is no cure
I am not heard
I am screaming
Begging for help
Yet I am alone
Writhing
My bones are sore
My mind is at its tether
What can I do?

Maybe I am dying
We all are
A little bit everyday
But this pain
I am dying a little more
What will it be?
What will cause my end?
My body or my mind
Decaying
Both are weak
I cannot remember
Ever being strong.
LC Apr 15
it let the bird fly,
learn, grow, change.
but when the bird falls,
stays the same, decays,
a thrill climbs up our bones
as the crack of the wishbone
echoes in our expectant ears
like a loud, resounding gong -
as our supposed fate awaits.
#escapril day 14!
Zywa Apr 7
Thinkers have taught me

to keep hoping: the world is –


ending all the time.
“Vuurduin” (“Firedune”, 2021, essay by Eva Meijer)

Collection "After the festivities"
tia Mar 21
cracking
the lines and curves of the sentences fall apart
screaming
the facade pleads to be rescued from this madness
crying
the entity shakes, and the world trembles along with it

worthless
if you disappeared not a single person would make a remark
unwanted
an unlovable friend, for who wants someone burdened by sadness
pathetic
a stubborn fool, such that even death asks you to submit
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