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Artem Mars Mar 27
No one calls me smart
They all check my grades
Mockery of the success
Shameful of the less
Trophy for being a disappointment
I try my hardest
Just for the attention
The approval
Is what keeps me going
I want an A
But I’m labeled with a B, C, D, or F
The attention is all wrong
The ridicule
Not reward
Nothing feels retained
I want a place to post
To show I’m more
To feel seen and liked
To see mean and nice
To share what I do with a brush
What I can do with facepaint
See others
Share songs
But it's about **** time
That they see it isn't
The showing to others
That ensured my demise
The help they would give me
The eyes and the ears
To feel seen and heard
The spotlight again
It will shine on my face
As if everyone cared
As if I wasn't so scared
And I would feel cured
But the labels I gain
Seem to be retained
Without a constraint
Of worry and pain
School is no longer about learning, it's about passing
A to Z Feb 24
You can get f by the system
Or you can say "f the system"
Corona time Jan 29
You are going to lose subscriber
#f #u
Mental heart at rest,
At rest...

At best,
I must arrest my restless mind to slog through the rest of today.

At Rest.
At rest,
Birds nest of anxieties...
Come to rest.


insolent mind.

Be, at rest.
city of flips Jul 2019
for the ladies who liquid lunch


the finest young women of the wild west,
(the best of course just might be in Texas)
don’t always get educated in the things best,
no private schools, so somethings sometimes,
like the upscale training of the taste buds,
must be learned on the job, training the palate,
by growing up, self+taught, thank god, yes!


your salty taste
reminds me of ruffled potato chips, bugles, beef jerky
your very own brand of
loving tears

it’s true you know,
impossible to eat
just one, which is
why my tonguing
of your body parts,
is unceasingly seizing

I will always be found
attached unbreakably,
to your moving image,
moving inside of me

so sweet your salt,
it’s your story,
your flavored lives living on
in poems unnamed, to disguise
but the authorship of whom,
in body, in mind, so obvious,
cause in all your poems is a tangy

impossible to eat just one

p.s. you tease me mean,

bbq and béarnaise,
sassafras and edible petals,
molasses and kosher salt,
ingredient combination
which of course
you just made up,
so I show my appreciation
biting your arm so my permanent
teeth marks,
will remind me,
and you too,
just how salty
biting Texas heifers who
can or cannot be salt cured
it’s their turn to write some
real good tasting


back for more already?

hannah Jul 2019
It's raining again today
I fall in love
With the rain
But today
Something is off
Something is different
Something is wrong
Something I cannot place
But it is there
And it wants me gone
It's raining in July. Oh boy.
Goodbye my love
Melodiously sigh the radiant crimson orange clouds
As their tendrils seem to flicker against
Distant emerald tree limbs
Resting on the darkening jagged hill

The sighing tune fades, yet endlessly repeats
out towards the pale azure horizon

All that is beautiful
Echoes of longing
Needfully resonated in the chambers of two lover's hearts below

Every kiss hello
Prelude on airy strings
To a goodbye
Precious paradox
This fleeting joy
embraces the lovers as vines climbing the grey stone wall
This was not really written to anyone specific, just a lingering sunset inspiring words to flow
Fawning over the fissile festivities,
with which I fake my facile form.
Fatal futility floods my far-flung faith in myself.

Feeding the fires of my forgery,
Frantic forethought,
Fictionalizing the facts before my faithless eyes.

Forclosing upon the fractional freedoms that I've so long fought for.
Fearing the unforgiving firestorm that follows,
Once I've finally exhausted faith in my future.

Fielding my final fight,
Standing fast in the face of futility.
Fit to fly into the fray.
ok okay Jun 2019
"Save my problems for later"
I thought to myself
Little did I know that 'later' would come so soon
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