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So maybe, we are glow sticks,
that need to break to glow.

So maybe, we are caterpillars
who digest themselves during metamorphosis,
to transform into a butterfly.

So maybe, we are stars
that need to collapse
in order to shine brightly.

So maybe, we need to breakdown,
to pick up the pieces and cast ourselves
as someone different.

So maybe, we need to shed
to become a better version.

So maybe, all this
was never a destruction
but a birth to something beautiful.
Qwn Nov 2018
It starts in my chest,
the hate,
the anger.
The urge to destruct clouds
over my eyes,
and all I can see is fire.
I can't sit still.
Everything shakes and falls.

And when it's over
all that's left is smoke.
It floats off my fingers.
Alarms are ringing in my head.
I look and see the mess,
everything I've ruined.
Through the clouds, I can see my home,
my past,
everything I've ever loved,
I burned.

This is what I am.
This is what I do.
Gale L Mccoy Oct 2018
when self-destruct is
coming home after doing all you could
at 24:00
and choosing to drink
and drink
when you have work in the morning

as if i would have had any better luck
trying to sleep
without the alcohol

at least i can enjoy a few hours
before the insufferable grind once again

i sleep better after
a night of drinking
drunk poem. I even recorded it for my podcast... but tbh.... i cant post it cause my parents listen to it
misty Apr 2018
A mocking armour
of rancid tragedy and depleted
self-esteem. He bears it, strong and cruel, in all it’s comical glory.
Trampling on good fortune and cursing the Almighty
shunning the world and it’s people for his own damnation.
Made from his very own hands. Guilty digits
surrounding savage palms.
Contaminated with lust and
a thirst to turn everything into dust.
He is known as man.
Brad post Apr 2018
You’ll only have one,
just one, and that’s it.

                                                            ­                            No, I don’t want it,
                                                             ­                                 I’m done, I quit!

Of course you want it,
cmon, only one.
Besides, you’re much funnier,
and way more fun.

                                                           ­                        I know that’s not true,
                                                           ­                      and it’s killing us slow.
                                                           ­               I don’t want it, please stop,
                                                           ­                                 go away, just go!

Where would I go?
Let’s not talk nonsense.
Just one drink man,
you deserve it my friend.

                                                        ­                          How can you say that?
                                                           ­                            You’re a part of me.
                                                             ­            You know one turns to two,
                                                            ­                      and two turns to three.

Nah, not this time,
this time isn’t the same.
Just have one man,
cmon, for old times.

There ya go......
How about just one more?
crystallaiz Oct 2017
jack-frost blue on snow white
circles of grey around midnight black
against the velvet night sky
the silent constellations
i fell
and fell
and fell

i bathed in your irises
but my feet couldn't reach the bottom
and when i tried to surface
the air was frigid
slicing my consciousness into ribbons
i took a breath
the chill seeped in
first it was my toes
then my legs
my stomach
my fingers
my arms
my chest

then you blinked
the ice fractured
and i
i shattered from the inside
i don't know. i had one of my moods again. haven't had one in a long time. it was not a good feeling.
Bethany G Blicq Feb 2017
Life is a puzzle.

We choose to put it together

or to take it apart.

We are the pieces.
Written in 2017.
Bethany G. Blicq
It might be painful
It might be disdainful
It might be lightning
It is so frightening
Could be the thunder
That has my number
It could be Jesus knocking
concerned about my mocking
It could be my future
or my lack of culture
It could be those fried reasons
maybe it's Jackie Gleason
It could be the hollow
that always seems to follow
me into the night
so black without any sight
It could be a light
from my star at height
tumbling through the heavens
or bread that is unleavened . . .

All I know is it just happened
while I was here just napping
Have you ever suddenly realized a truth that just comes out of the blue .
Bird Oct 2016
So it happens like this
Everyone is watching, and I'm begging
Look at me! Please!
For just a second, hour, day! Please!

Don't you see the issue? I'm constantly
Effecting everyone, every day
Still, I'm not, I'm not,
That important to the whole scheme
Really I should just walk away
Unless someone really cares, I'll fade
Care not, farewell
To the long drop and deep sleep,
I wish, I want, I would, I could if
Only I could give it up, A toast! To
No one, no where, no way, and no how
the self destruct button
is waiting for that fellow to push
he'll blow himself up like
a snooker ball off the cush

it won't be any surprise
to see him blasting himself away
this very explosion was fated
on a forthcoming day

the firing switch is set
for the big self strike
whereupon he'll be ******
into the air as a flying pike

soon the event will be
happening on television
let us not miss watching
his most important mission
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