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Andrew Harris Jun 2019
Not too long ago I knew
Things, people, family, future plans
Not too long ago
They grew...

Then, over the course of 4 years
Everything fell apart
Everything came unglued, undone,
Nothing fit together so smart(ly)

It took six month of pain, regret and confusion to...
Breathe
See colors once known
Look out
It’s time to get into my own zone

And now I am alive
I feel like I might thrive
I feel more me now, then I ever was
Before. Before all the fuzz

Distortion
Destruction
They actually gave birth

Every day isn’t easy
Far from everything perfect
But I feel things are flowing
I feel that my soul is growing
My choices flowing
My expectation growing
sometimes beauty does come from ashes, and though i am still covered in ash,  the light is shining through
Deadwood Jawn Jun 2019
If
I̻͔̮̠͙̙͓̟F͖͙͎͓̥͈̳͎ ͔͚̳͍͓̩̹ͅO̲͉ͅN͍̟͕̠͍̥̤͈L͓̮̦Y͍̱͈̖̰̥ ̣̖͙͖

͓͎̼I͉̱̩̭͎̹̯̪͖ ͉̥̫̻H͕̖͕̰A͓̤͍̖̙͙̻̼͚D̹̦̭ ̺̟͎̜

M͍̘̬Y̝̳͙̤̟
̖̹̳̯͍̦
̜͓͍͓̹͈̣͕S̺E̞̮͎̟R̖̹̹̻̯͙E̮͎͔̭ͅN̺̤̼̠A̻


­__
shamamama May 2019
Innocence saw the truth
The mind filtered it, and
Misery spoke it (to him)
He heard it
And sharp anger impaled it
Revealing the remaining
Fragments of Adulterated
Distorted Truth
Making sense of distortions and how unhealthy communication and stories whittle away truths, diverging towards a shallow muddy puddle of view.
Darryl M May 2019
I’m of colour, ain’t you?
Do dogs see a pitbull, or just another dog?
Are we animals of our own, or just animalistic?

Fat we call it, we laugh.
Ugly we call it, we laugh.
Strange we call it, we avoid.
Different we call it, we exclude.

Unfamiliar faces to us,
Like stolen goods, we touch not.
Like a judge making a ruling, we talk not.

Is a stranger a stranger, when we come short of association?
Or are we too proud of associating?

I don’t believe in Ugly.
I believe in a stupidly distorted view of people.
Sonnet
Dominic Lees Apr 2019
Today was ok͝a̧̼y͎̮͟
so why do i f͉̲̰e̴̺e̸l̠̱̗̩̜͘ ̭like this
i didnt do anything w͕̭̼̱̤͍̣r̜ơ̩n͎̺̠̹̠̤̱g̶ so why
w̦̰͓͉̰̺h̯̬̥͓̭y͉̪ ͟d҉̟͖̱o̤ ̷ỳ̘ò̻͍̫͓u̼̪̖̕
͡w̹̫̣̘̘͟h̖̖͈̥̫̳̲y̱̮̯͚̠ ̖͠d͏͈͚͓̥̙͈o͇ ̧̟ị̯̰̬
̨̤̣̬ͅw͍͓h̩̝̭͙a̟̼͖̹̫̰t̵͇̫͔̻͚ ̳i̘s͏̖͎ͅ ̮̱͕̩ẃ̪̬̪r̴̠̠̯͈o͜n̦̖̰̩̫g̗̘̫͍̩̗̼̕ ̧̦͕̳͚͚̤ͅw̦̜̠͉͘i̭̜͘t̟h̞͎ ̳̣m̢̗̞̩͙̤͚e̯̕

.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̀͞­̗͖̯͍.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗­̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺͢͞ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞̱̖̩̭́̕.̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥́͞͝͝ͅ­̝̭̤.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓̹.̛̯̮̫̫͙̳̞̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓͢ͅ.̧҉̧̛­͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙̱͎̩̱͘.͓̮̫͇̜̮̬̼̟̜͔͘͜.͖͔̭̕͢͝͠͠ͅ.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗­̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ­.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺͢͞ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬́̕­̳̳͔̞̱̖̩̭.̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥̝̭̤́͞͝͝ͅ.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓­̹.̛̯̮̫̫͙̳̞̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓͢ͅ.̧҉̧̛͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙̱͎̩̱͘.͓̮̫͇̜̮̬̼̟̜͔͘͜.͖͔̕͢͝͠͠­̭ͅ.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝ͅ­̱͍̻.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦͢͞­̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞̱̖̩̭́̕.̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥̝̭̤́͞͝͝ͅ.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣­̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓̹.̛̯̮̫̫͙̳̞̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓͢ͅ.̧҉̧̛͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙͘­̱͎̩̱.͓̮̫͇̜̮̬̼̟̜͔͘͜.͖͔̭̕͢͝͠͠ͅ
.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̕͢͜­̯̻̻͉̣̩.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻́͡­̪̖̦̥̩̖.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺͢͞ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞̱̖̩̭́̕.͞͝͝­̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥̝̭̤́ͅ.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓̹.̛̯̮̫̫͙̳̞͢ͅ­̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓.̧҉̧̛͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙̱͎̩̱͘.͓̮̫͇̜̮̬̼̟̜͔͘͜.͖͔̭̕͢͝͠͠ͅ.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͝­͓.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰́͜͝­̙̮͇͎.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙͢͞ͅͅ­̮͍͍͇̗̺.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞̱̖̩̭́̕.̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥̝̭̤́͞͝͝ͅ.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎­͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓̹.̛̯̮̫̫͙̳̞̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓͢ͅ.̧҉̧̛͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙̱͎̩̱͘.͓̮̫͇̜͘͜­̮̬̼̟̜͔.͖͔̭̕͢͝͠͠ͅ.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚̀͞­͚̗͖̯͍.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮­̗̰̪̱̫
.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳­̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖́͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̡­̷̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺͢͞ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞̱̖́̕
.̸͖̦̼̤̝͖̣͓͝.͝҉͚͔̙̝̦̫̳͇̟̗̳̻̫͕­̖.̸̗̳̯̻̻͉̣̩̕͢͜.̖̤̭͚͚̗͖̯͍̀͞.͏̙̥̳̮̻̝̱͍̻ͅ.̡͈̞̯̰̙̮͇͎́͜͝.͝͏͇̯̟̺̮̠ͅ.̷̛́­̪͎͔̤̥͇̻̪̖̦̥̩̖͡.̶҉̨̻͚̮̗̰̪̱̫̼͈̦.̷̡̦̗͖̬͍͚͎͍̬̭͙̮͍͍͇̗̺͢͞ͅͅ.͉͈̺̠̬̳̳͔̞́̕­̱̖̩̭.̬̤̤̘͍̪̰̖̞̯̦̥̝̭̤́͞͝͝ͅ.͠͝͏̨̩̟̘̦̣̟̻̯̪͚̹̘̳.͜͏͎͖̗̙̭̰̰̻͓̪̝̹̖̦͓̹.̛͢­̯̮̫̫͙̳̞̝̝͔̝͙̯̪̜͓ͅ.̧҉̧̛͍͎͙̟̺̩̠̪͉̥͕͙̱͎̩̱͘.͓̮̫͇̜̮̬̼̟̜͔͘͜.͖͔̭̕͢͝͠͠ͅ

­

I̵͏̻̘͔̭͖͈͎̝̮̹̠͙̮̟͔̯̞̀̕ͅ ̶̡̛͕͇̪̦̞͔͉̭̝̭̪͇̜̯a̡̖͖͎̤̺̼̥̯͎̺̱͈͟͡m̷̶̧͍̥̳͙͇̩͇̳̪̘͉̞̯͇̱͕̲̕ͅͅ ̕҉̧̙̳͙͍͓̯͉̠̦s̝̬͙͈͔̪͕͚͎͚̥̯͔̳͓̣̟̩̦͘͢ì̸̭͚̰͖͉͎̙͞ͅͅǹ̴̮̺͈̘͚̪̻̞̣͕̪̥͓̱͟­͓k̸̵̤̣̪̯̞͢͟͝i̢̬͚̭̺͚̯͕͕̮͖͘͘͟ņ̸͍͎̬̮͖̦̺̖̺̣̼͈̼̀͜͝g̢̢̘̗̗̖̭̟͚̭͓̮͔
corruption
Muhammad Usama Apr 2019
Distorted midday dreams
Deepest unwelcome fears
Uttering thunderous screams
With inglorious tears

A warm but scentless gaze
Limited by these walls
Lies fixed on you these days
While a dread in me crawls
Yenson Mar 2019
With the magical banner held high
invoking the crocodile rain of oppression by elites
of greed by leeches and bacteria, amoebas and suckers
oh come all come one, join our revolution against dark powers

Oh.. who in rightful mind could refuse
off she went to hear hot propaganda of those high and mighty folks
who took food from baby's mouth  and live likes kings in our homes
fed in Le Cordon Bleu a'la Rouge with lashings of aspic fabrications

Without hesitation she swallowed all up,
I'm in and I am an Activist show me the culprit, what can I do
all for one, one for all, that parasite deserves miseries and doom
Easy comrade sister, get to know him and help us do his head in  

It's a sport for us that elitist blood sucker
just get under his skin for us, let's play his mind and infest his head
report back to us, inner knowledge is power and we're fighting a war
comrade sister, our hot Activist marched forth on with vim and vigor

comrade sister wholly followed her brief
though soon saw things weren't as the revolutionaries  presented
conflicted and confused she felt pity for a rare icon held in gallows
but the majority carries the vote and all is fair in love and red war

At her cost and with a wretched heart she gave her all
did as she was told and played her part as a true comrade in line
Solidarity she give to the fight, was mean and nasty as demanded
It's them or us they say and see comrades I give my services to you
all

No medals for Comrade sister, no epaulette yet earned
rather at her cost her privacy invaded and smears throws at her
tales of dark deeds and loose morals hung on her in dark corners
yet that poor heroine fought and gave so much blood for the cause

where is the honour amongst thieves and knaves
she did all that was required of her
told the lies she was made to tell and played the game as taught
stood at the barricades and ****** her guilt and conscience
yet they still don't trust her for paranoia rules them all
julianna Sep 2018
This is to the person
Who lives the way I do...
Whose life is a distortion
Created by the veil
That covers our minds from the truth
That living like this is hell:
The moments you overreact,
You cry and have panic attacks
The moments that you’re in your bed
When demons inhabit your head
When you push away those that you love
Because being yourself is too much
This is to those with this
Distortion,
Distortion that lives in your brain,
Beneath every single headache and then cracked between the pain.
Sometimes I have moments of clarity when I realize how distorted my viewpoints and actions can be. It really disturbing to suddenly come into the realization that something that you did or said is completely unstable, and just a product of your clouded, mentally- ill judgement.
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