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I have only two
States of being:

Hungry, and
Occasionally, I may be both.
Leon Murphy Nov 8
I sing in darkness surrounded by light
A lullaby of forbidden words.
Yet bother neither beautiful nor sad
Making tears flow and smiles laugh.

Keeping Precious and harmful things away
You can sleep right away
waking up with no worries or strain
singing at night to ease the pain going to bed in a peaceful way.

Dreaming along with your brain saying hello to darkness in your gloomy way
So saying goodbye to your guardian light
abandoning the love of your life
Crying day by day you regret your way
and sang a lullaby of forbidden words to ease the pain.
InsertPenName Oct 25
What is sadness for the mind of madness
It might be odd to bear witness, but the mighty warrior who welds words like weapons
With shield of indifference, will no yield under falling havens
What hurts is that small tinker of needle
Plucked from the rose we touched in haste
What is sadness for the mind of madness
It's saying take care instead of I love you
It's saying goodnight instead of I miss you
It's saying bye instead of stay
But no, we'll not say… will not plead
For the painkiller needs to be kept on the shelf
Not be taken as a meal
A toxic relief, Not something that they need to keep, note to self stitched in skin : keep away
What's happiness to the mind of madness
It's fear nothing else
The Dybbuk Oct 24
Sometimes, I fly.
I am lifted carefully upwards into the bright embrace of *** herself, and there is a warmth in my heart I forgot existed.
Sometimes, I fall.
A pit far older than you or I is born beneath my feet and I plummet into the cold grip of illusion.
Sometimes, I laugh.
I feel happiness burst from my lungs into the open air, like a common cold.
Sometimes, I cry.
And it's not a dainty or pretty ordeal; it is heaving and whimpering with tears streaming down your face in the parking lot of your therapist's office. It's a psilocybin-induced sprint through the rain, except it's sunny outside and people are watching. It's the moment in the pond where you think, "I should drown myself," and the only reason you don't is because nobody will ever find your body here.
Sometimes, I forgive.
I know that I am good inside, that I am redeemable. I see the light inside of me and I feel her hands reaching out to pull me from emptiness.
Sometimes, I can't.
And the hands are pulled from mine by the mirror, and when I look into it I swing my hammer to break the bottle in the air.
If you will please crowd around the campfire
and milk it for all it is worth.
There is always a little anger under the flames.
Don't be afraid to ask it what you got that the others ain't.

There are two very different fires burning inside of you.
The authentic flame looking more like a lighthouse all isolated, and the other called the shadow of lies you show the world.
Each flame sounds a lot like music as it tells you the difference between you and the rest of this planet.
Did you listen?
The world of duality is inside of you.
elle Sep 26
theres no grief like another day
with each foot
sunken into the sand-hills of contradictory continents

straddling this divide of time and language
the ocean has been colored red
from our aching hearts
since they hammered these border walls up

i’m crying at my computer waiting for my best friend to answer
i’m crying while i write this letter to my dying grandmother,
under her covers
an ocean away

i’m hoping for a call to me
a distinct answer to which
side of the shore i belong

each time i look at my reflection half of me is gone


strewn across unforgiving terrain
the stretch of an abyss
only as far as the stitches on my left hand

the six hour time divide, waiting for my sister's awakening
to tell her a dream of us holding hands,
which i won’t recall by
her morning

what is the divide anyway?
except an inherent part of my heart

i carry the world within me-
spilling rivers
crushing waves,
but it still feels so far apart
LaDawn Sep 24
From the age of 5 you put us in school, a place that you tell us is comforting and open, yet you want to advance our mental intelligence. Formulas, problem solving, this or that, and life expectations are drilled into our head from the age of 5. How can a 5 year old be expected to live up to those inhuman expectations if they can barely write there name. A 5 year old shouldn't have to or feel the pressure to memorize what formula will help them best in life. These expectations are inhuman, you should never have to feel pressured to be better. You should do things because you want to not because your pressured to.
This is poem #2 hope you enjoy!
Jon-Luc Sep 20
Beauty blinds the eye
Kind words deafen the recipient
Sweetness numbs the taste
Sensation paralyzes touch

The grotesque expands vision
Hate speech amplifies thoughts
Bitterness broadens the tongue
Hedonism frees ****** tension

You musn’t not control
Be supple as a newborn
This simple wisdom is flow




Like the widest of rivers
Carning not of the next bend to come
Not resisting allowing the water to pass

Be the river and all things are possible
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