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Bekah Halle Jun 2024
"I want to know what love is!"
The ballads croon...

A yearning I can't dismiss.
Seeking love in all the ‘right’ places,
But come up short,
heart strewn, finding no traces —

Straying in dares and when curiosity flares,
Overwhelming sensations birth animosity.
Pushed down, down, down deep below,
dormant, to 'fit in’, the bitter ‘pill,’ I swallow.

Much older now, can I claim my truth?
A Christian? Does that free me: a rebirth?

Am I ‘queer as f#@k’?
Can I truly love without feeling stuck?
The heart requires courage,
But weak am I; keep praying for marriage.

Am I a hopeless case?
Or will I love and truly embrace?

Will I ever be free?
To be fully me?
Or will I keep denying,
and forever friggin' trying
to fit the mould
told of this world?"



f#@k!!! f#@k!!!
This is a tortuous personal piece that I want to delete but I am trying to find the courage to sit in this time and place; space, and grow my capacity.
Jeremy Betts May 2024
This story that began with hope I hope will end with hope
Feels hopeless
I gave up looking for answers, now I hope to find a way to cope
Denied access
The last ounce of hope left left when I decided to revisit dope
Again, I retrogress
This cat and mouse between hope and despair is an exhausting trope
I'm breathless
Dark thoughts fill the space left by hope, time to hide the rope
Chased by darkness
I don't even know exactly what sparked this
But I'm sure to end up heartless regardless
That's just me being honest

©2024
ky Jul 2023
I never knew you.
You never knew me.
We never met;
this never happened;
it was all a dream.
(And I'm finally
awake.)
Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
You call this living, I call it survival, no more pretending that everyone's equal
If all y'all get this undeserved label of special it's disgraceful
It's wasteful not wonderful 'cause that means no one is special
Just a single shape stencil, a number two if you will, but is it poo or pencil
Either way sign below and hand over the soul and no one will get hurt until maybe tomorrow
I find it probable that you could choke on the blue and overdose on the red pill
Let's go ahead and change the slogan from "We the People" to "We the Sheeple
'Cause look the spectacle, they're herding this flock of bigotry and evil straight to the steeple
It's obvious that what they claim to matter is not brain but rather *****
Hopeful it'll go unnoticed that the boat's always had a hole, the cover up comical
No intention to fix it though, not that it's impossible, it's just that their main goal has never been to be helpful
It's shameful but we're still expected to accept all their bull shiit and be eternally grateful
Grateful?! Hell no, I find it hard to be civil with these simple, bottom of the barrel, garbage pail people
I watch every good for nothing stereotypical imbecile as they revel in just how little they know about anything useful
Shiit, I myself didn't know it was possible to set a bar so low with the refusal to even try and meet somewhere in the middle
But they're always able to fall back on denial, hiding behind the iron sights of a rifle, running orange hate straight up the flag pole
A don't tread on me disciple with their own personal motto on signature apparel, backing a shadow government tribunal
Half occupying a big tent revival, hatting on a manufactured rival just 'cause some *** hat, ******* said so
Grab your personal blind fold at the door before going in to read the vile pages of the bible
Trying to convince yourself that it's gospel but if that's true you'd have to accept, then adapt to having a black soul
Deep down you already know it's an undeniable abysmal circus clown shiit show
What good is having ample evidence if no one's held accountable, even as we sit at the one millionth example
We're all banging our heads against this wall like a judge swinging his gavel
Now is the time to bail on this nauseating carousel, any hesitation could be futile, not a worth while gamble
All the while each illegitimate man child in power hasn't told a single truth in a long while
They have the gal to stand in front of a pile of the gullible and lie through a smile
And the onlookers soak up this bile as a little dribble of spittle appears as the listeners brain looses signal
But for them thinking isn't critical, calling forth the tribulations of revaluations while skipping the trial
Forgetting that back when you were just a child you were told not to judge, but a god complex is your desired style
Doing the unthinkable has become a profitable ritual, asking for help now treated as rhetorical
Historical failures on a global level, the leaders themselves are the perpetual obstacle
Only allowed to live so they can make money on your funeral, basic human needs shouldn't be treated as charitable
The fix is simple enough to get through even the thick skull of a dude-bro, so you'd think it'd be achievable
But our voice is rarely heard, a subtle mic cut before we're able get out anything that resembles a rebuttal
So we're stuck getting fuucked in this government funded brothel running out of the basement of a hostel designated as the capital
They profess they aren't responsible for the struggle brought on by the fallacies they try and juggle
How is this legal? It's gone on this way for so long that it's no longer seen as a scandal, just business as usual
Every word hypocritical, right and wrong indistinguishable, as our bill of rights and constitution become controversial
There's never been a time in history this hasn't been factual which also means getting out might not be truly achievable

Welcome to the show, pick a row and grab a seat, let's watch the slow burn glow
And here...we...go...

©2022
i can cut all the petals off of you,

as viciously as i please....

but what i will fail to accomplish is the pulling of your roots.

They've ran too deep.

and well,

the petals will all return too soon.

and quite frankly

i remembered every color in them, anyway.

close your eyes to the sun, and I promise -

the iris will still feel him.


cowardice
This is not all that I am
All that I can see
My eyes shut close and fade
Into nothing.

I can see you
And all my hinges all my twists.
My bereavements and edges
That I cannot take back

The light can take me
When I decide it is my time
But I am not done
I am not done living.

My feathers can burn.
Into soot
Take all of me that is left
That I can give.

But I am done giving up
What more
What more can I ha-------------
.
louella Nov 2022
your hands were fire
i needed to be warmed
in my little flower crown
on my hesitant head
but
i denied it
it makes me sick with sorrow
as i paced in my own selfish delusion
losing focus
losing faith
we danced on the patio
as the night thickened
i turned you down
left you turning black
underneath my touch
you grabbed her hand
reaching for a soft resolution
did you know?
i forgot how to process
i wrote you notes in candlelight
hoping moments could become
real again
real
real…
i once believed i would marry the weather
and its mood swings
but i lost my way while walking back home
tripped on the beaten path
i lost the fire that was contained in your soul
it couldn’t turn to solid fast enough
i died alone in a abandoned bar
as you dined in a two story house with your children at the foot of your bed
but i didn’t love you and i still don’t, so why do you seem like my missing piece?  
why do i feel like i need you?
something real, something real, something real
inspired by little women, jo and laurie teehee

11/29/22
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2022
I knew we were in trouble
when they taught the machines to talk

parliament of artificial owls
nocturnal park line pirates

watch and learn
these conspirators
abduct the listening chair
and strap deniability to
another infernal device

so some hotwired pilgriming woman
possesses superior ****** abilities
and a skill with
the violin, the pointy end

camera is king

yet all the negatives
have been destroyed
still somewhere out there
remains a flash card
and a hybrid set of eyes
watching all the people fall to pieces

we're perambulations around
collapsed buildings,
rather than the collapsing buildings themselves

me and the machine
of contradictions
sick as our secrets
with all kinds of shenanigans going on

welcome to the age of copying minds
onto hard drives and cellphones

a future too heavy to carry
and so we plant it deep into the soil
letting the cables sleep
like fading city lights, receding
like strange fractured reactors
at the edge of the world

in lieu of flowers send hope
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