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smc Feb 11
a text, written on 09.16.14, @ 9:54 pm, never sent:

I am not a priority in your life. Horses, friends, friends' kids, but most importantly, you, come first in your life. I am a hole to fill, a receptacle for your empty "I love you's." I can't do half-*** relationships. I deserve and have given you so much more than you have to give me. And you know it. It's a wicked trap, an intricate web magically woven overnight, glittering with diamonds. Look, but don't touch. Proceed with caution--there are whisper-fine, hidden threads that serve as strategic, invisible anchors.  It is only morning dew: temporary water droplets reflecting and refracting borrowed brilliance from the sunlight as it slowly, imperceptibly, inevitably, shrinks them until they evaporate.
as exists only suspended on unsteady architecture; this is meant to attract and smother prey. Once disturbed, it seems to disappear. By morning, though, the web, again, magically, reappears, again anchored to the concrete below the same corner of the roof from which it was disturbed. Diamonds are the result of years of transformation, and no solid foundation can be constructed in one night. will play the game to get out of you the help I need for my new home but you no longer hold my heart. This is a game to you, a cheap pair of boots you wear when you have nothing better to put on your feet. You wanted *** and you got it. I can't sleep soundly with you; a lurking shadow of anticipation for deception and heartless pain keep me awake. I am a soldier awaiting the inevitable gunfire.
You are incapable of love.
A spider waits for prey, and I threw myself into your web. I called you. You chose not to bring me flowers. Publix is down the street from my office. You asked what you could do for me when I was sick; I requested a hug and flowers. You deposited ***** and gave me a five-dollar bracelet. I've worn it daily. I couldn't look at it anymore. I took it off tonight and put it out of my sight. You are a poisonous, sparkling black hole. I am drawn to your light; you are a moon that orbits my sunlight. You reflect, take, absorb, and I am the source of the sparkle in your tobacco-stained smile. Your own mother is a "****** hick;" how do I even stand a chance?
"Contempt loves the silence; it thrives in the dark, the fine, winding tendrils that strangle the heart."
I am a host; you are a parasite. I stay sick with or without you; I choose light, honesty, health, truth, now--you are losing your power over me. I am unraveling each fine, winding tendril as each dusty ***** in this familiar, aged stained glass fights for the light of youth. I will exhale.
Xallan Jan 15
Their youth has not grown old, not yet
tired, only their age
because their numbers don't add up
They is too big or too small, for this
body or this mind
they cannot be sure
Assurances is not a class they can take

after absolutism was abolished with the sun
uncertainty guides them
and they let it

What they loves is the night, and they
loved their day, and they loves the breath of life
They is not one here for adventure, but seeking it
They finds joy in the sound of silent heartbeats
and in the glow of closed store window lights
and coffeeshops and money not well spent
in excuses and experiences
down aisles and between crowds
of excessively loud and side-eyed people
infused with unseen smoke and voices
that hang in the air

in pointless conversations
about self-care and self-hatred and self-acceptance
because connection does not happen
with shared cables or hugs or fingertips

it's gotta be the craniums
tuned in to the same radio color
They smile at the time lost
and the temperature fluctuations
at warmth and unread newspapers
at insulating their takeout with their poor choices
even drinking forbidden coffee at 10 at night
vintage or handmade thrills
They laugh at the idolatry of merchandise
and the idolatry of spirituality and religion
even as they bow to the ground for their god
and they pray

listening to his ears for revelation
or any enlightenment left in his neurons
Input without limitation, and enjoy now
all of it is a distraction from the restriction
from the wrong place and wrong time

from the wrong skin
concealed by binding clothing, huff, huff
They inhales the world, and all the kindness but
only to exhale carbon dioxide

and that is the breath of life
A Dec 2018
An exhale
Followed by the deepest inhale
So deep that i thought
For a second
That this might be the time my ribcage
Finally collapses in on itself
this ain't it
Lhb Oct 2018
this is what ***** me up,
she smiles. a smile so pure my head and the universe switch turns. my head is spinning and the world stops. the sun blinks a couple of times and the moon comes rushing in. its night time and all of the stars are shining but when compared to that smile of hers, the stars are just dots. i am a dot in this marvelous world. and it ***** me up that i just want to grab her by the hand and pull her so close that my ribs start smashing. but its fine. my ribs are just making her way home. where she always lived. where everything is familiar with her touch. i want to kiss her until her lips is the only taste i know. i want to breath her in until her smell replaces every oxygen molecule in my lungs.
it ***** me up, that for those few seconds im a normal personal. i just want to love. destructive thoughts leave me be. no issues, nothing twisted. just a lover.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
Everyone understands
I believe, they will
If not today, some other day

But what to do
With their
Preoccupied contents

I can lead them to the light
But what, if they enjoy

The same air
Inhaled exhaled
By the stubborn heart
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Why change is hard to accept?
Jordan Ray Oct 2018
I turn to comfort in the smoke I exhale.
Try not to panic when I'm feeling this way.
I see the light but you're well out of reach.
I try to surface but the waters too deep.
Esther Sep 2018

be aware
of what is on your mind
all the worries
all the hate
know them
feel them
steering every movement
spinning your thoughts
into oblivion
so that you can't remember
the you you once were
now stop

Leash Aug 2018

20 years on the god forsaken planet and i forgot how to breathe
Constantly grasping for a life guard,
not because i cant swim
more like, well lets put it this way
I'm an Olympic athlete, or at least so i tell myself i should be
I must swim like i've been doing it my whole life
but i just started trying a week ago
so why am i not a pro?

Everyday we put this extreme expectation on ourselves
expecting to climb mountains when we spend the past 3 years smoking a pack a day

Think about that

We would never get mad at someone if they lost a race when they have broken legs

So why get mad at yourself when you just cant today

"why cant you get out of bed"
"Why are you so lazy"
"No one wants to see your **** face"




"it will be okay"
"Practice hard everyday and you can be an Olympic athlete"
"Practice Everyday and you can learn to love yourself"
"Practice everyday and those overbearing thoughts will soon drown themselves in the flow of self love"

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