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Carlo C Gomez Sep 22
an interstellar vacuum
is far from empty,
all the water in the universe
is melted comets,
and it floods all reason.

bloodstar from afar
or Cape Canaveral close,
no astral projection there,
only a cipher in a foreign quadrant
until...teardrops,
big, wet, unsympathetic drops.

hear it now!
the sonic boom of
marooned tourism,
in short shots,
fast cuts,
horizonal eddy currents
ripe with thorns,
like lakes of suspicion,
if God is listening
then this mission is in trouble.

downcycled planet in the wires
and cigarette lighters,
a home without space,
Andromeda chained in sacrifice
to sate the monster,
her punishing beauty
cascading over the peril
that everything in the universe
is recyclable – even you!
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2021
I'm on a bus,

I'm in a tunnel,

As the choppers fly low

Over the belly of damnation,

Looking down at

The fractured city

From the 44th floor,

I'm a gun turret,

Hit or miss

The light pours out of me,

Now I'm a solar panel,

A Christmas tree,

Powered up

And manufactured,

The sum of my parts

Somehow worth more

Than what it means

To be human.
Lynn Nov 2019
An emotion of emotion
The ability to feel emotions
The control of thought
and master of habits
The start of attachment
And ending of will
The idea of caving
And the distortion of lonely
Cause us all to call it love
Reach out and cut your hands on the glass strand shards
Sticking out of my heart
Shouting in rage; forgetting my age
Desperately hoping to engage
Or restart

Walking on eggshells and retract
From the fact that both my feet retreat
When I sense you lurking so tactfully
One wrong step severs that last kind breath
Until we forget what it was like before
In between a battleground haze (mazes comprised to our designs)
And ulterior motives

It's amazing how forgetful we can be
Until there's no good memories
I need some recompense to provide for an accurate censor
And try to determine why I feel greed
And propensity in my relationships

I don't want to be caught in the same headspace
What a waste to frivolously seek the finish line
Leaving impressive vines with no roots
And nothing to annoint
But I suppose its due to the exceedingly increasing value
Of time and how that robs us blind
With nothing to do
And a moot point
I hate my life. My thanks to Smile Empty Soul's song "False Alarm" that provided inspiration for this
xmelancholix May 2017
broken and beaten, I've been traded.
I never was good at bartering
and I get attached to the hearts I acquire.
Yet I remain EXPENDABLE.
and I don't UNDERSTAND it.
the DRAMA of it all.
I'm tired of being traded as a lesser possession to the
temptations of previous sins.
WHEN can I become the manager of my ****** possessions and
learn to control my heart's quick inspired inevitable failure?
031717
ryan Mar 2017
I am of no use, is what it tells me.
That I have nothing special, and that
I am nothing compared to those around
me is the truest lie I was ever told.
It allows me to be soluble
in the lives and achievements of  others.
The individual pieces of me dissolve
into insignificant, infinitesimal specks
that serve no purpose, and amount to nothing.
Anything I do - any talents I have - will be surmounted by those
who are more than I could ever wish to be.
Alone I am whole, where the love I keep under my
sheets and between my arms tells me
she values me.
But out there - out there in the world
I am of no importance and
infinite expendability.
Andrew Kerklaan Mar 2017
I am the side character that is killed off before the end of the first act in my life's theatre

-Expendable-

I am the extra.

I die and the show goes on without me

Que the curtain fall
jennee Mar 2016
don't look at me as if i'm some piece of side trash left alone to rot like a cigarette ****
stop discarding my worth and comparing me to those less like me
i am not expendable
but i am just like you, not an ashtray of growing remains and dust

n.j.
WickedHope May 2015
I am the in between
The middle
The line
The bridge
The limbo
The paleness
The fence
The open
The link
The connection
The break
I am the in between

The first to be forgotten
The last to be seen
Wrote a few on this thought today.

— The End —