every body
is addicted to something
& this body
seems to love
& pain -
this mind
unearths emotions
that cause
quite the commotion
to encourage a reaction
so intense
just to distract
from the silence
Maybe brains get addicted to emotions just like they do to other substances and that's why this memory that makes me sick keeps plaguing my mind over and over and over and
Seanathon May 7
Having children of my own, somewhere, someday...
Will be to me, the most phenomenal distraction from self which could ever be...
Because what else will you have to live for (besides faith obviously) when you're 50-60?
I am the sadness you can't bear, and was the happiness you don't deserve to wear.

I am the stress you can't handle, and was the light of certainty you can no longer re-kindle.

I am the tears you can't stop from fallin', and was the smile you can never put in your face again.

I am the distraction you can't control, and was the calmness once needed by your soul.

I am the doubt you can't get away, and was the ease that has now stopped leading your way.

I am the guilt that will constantly haunt you, and was the lightness that you only wasted and threw.

I am the fear you can't overcome, and was the heroine you once get your courage from.

I was everything you could ask for, now I am unable to offer you anything anymore.
There is always a reason
To start a war
When a nation
We don’t know our neighbors.
We fear being open and vulnerable
With most of the people we know.
There is hardly any
Sense of Community
Any more.
Our President attempts to
Rally us around the flag
Against an enemy
Most of us know
Little or nothing about.
This poem was originally composed in response to abstractprompts on Tumblr.
1.  Prolonged pleasure of the satisfaction of inaction
2.  Voluntary distraction beyond all measure
3.  To deal with fear of living and dying
4.  Watching life slipping away and crying
Breon Apr 4
A constellation glimmers atop the pavement,
Shards scattered carelessly, violently,
eager to catch the headlight lamps.

A galaxy draws the eye as if to spare it
The twisted crush of steel and blood
Parked nose-first in the drainage ditch.

The gutter catches what remains,
Trenches carved through the lip
Where it chokes around the wreck.
It can't swallow fast enough to save
Some mystery, some dignified tragedy,
Leaving only something raw and lost.
I don't know what caused the accident. I don't think knowing would help.
Madolyn Mar 27
No clocks
to distract me in class
so my mind finds a solution
for something to do
instead of paying attention
I’m thinking of you

Your bright eyes and
cute laugh
the way you
buried your head in my shoulder
when you got embarrassed
and started to blush

The comforting way
your arms wrap around me
and the soft kisses
you put all over my face
the little secrets
we’re embarrassed to tell
in the corner of snapchats

You’re so distracting
and that’s a good thing

And the thing that’s really
caught my attention
are those two nights
where we were together
one of which
I shouldn’t go into too much detail
but let’s just say
I think you’re a great kisser

But unfortunately
it’s not a great thing
to be thinking about this
in class (especially math)
so instead of just
pure day dreaming
I’d like if you’d come over again
so I have more things
to think about
you’re a great distraction
If I fail my next math quiz I blame you :)
My nightmare, my dream, all at once, he's swinging me round, the smile he'd lost, back with a laugh, open my eyes, shudder and cry, waking nightmare, that's what he is, I cry out mercy, but nobody hears.
Another dedicated to him~ Maximilian my ghostly distraction.
The man in the mirror
crawls up my arm,
wandering ever nearer,
claiming to be me.

Thus do I spend
countless seconds of my life
hypnotised, distracted,
under a strange spell
of separation from the world,
hiding from its happenings
and the call of responsibility.


Yet through an eye I rarely open,
when a leaf tumbles through cold air,
and a stream laps the wet grass,
or after a run in the sun,
there are brief glimpses
of pure beauty,
and no attachment to it,
without any idea
of becoming someone I’m not,
so sometimes I ask myself,

“What if I weren't a brain
behind a face
but the open space
in which the train wreck
of life takes place?”
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