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Reuben F Apr 2022
Left sundered with
The hut tinged of a yellow tincture
- My room in theft or dancing:
Swept underneath
The cut fringe of an elevator
- I whom she left her fancy.

Flapped on the heat
Or what singed over yellowed paper
- Fire loomed in after lancing:
Crept under teeth
That tucked cringe of a shallow nature
- "Hi! Should we shaft for chances?"
annh Oct 2021
Acceptance that in this life
Blood and sinew define me
And yet my mind can fly,
Doesn’t come easily.

To find the pivot point,
The sweet spot where form and fancy
Co-exist in perfect balance,
Eludes me most of the time.

To lose myself in the dreck of daily life dulls my spirit;
To reject the limitations of my reality
Leaves me stranded in the in between spaces
Where discontent, longing and self-doubt flourish.

Engaging in this power struggle
Between my earth and my ether
Leads me to gainsay one half of my whole,
Either or, vice versa, within or without.

To find a ***** in my own armour,
To prise open the gap,
To embrace the paradox which is this person named “I”,
And walk the tightrope with panache...aha!

‘The picture of a being is always a schema, a simplified and crude depiction of what is never entirely representable and exhaustible; such a being seeks to be understood in its potentiality and respected as something infinite, even if boundaries (common forms of existence) have been drawn like fate around it, borders beyond which it can not escape and which its physiognomy constantly remembers.’
- Helmuth Plessner, Grenzen der Gemeinschaft
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, what I wrote before comes back with a lot in store:>?

drowned in the traps of the atlantic
drawn scars so deep so dark so pathetic
dried the river made the wounds stitched them fast
why is this the billionth time that I've sworn the last?
shut my heart and silenced the beats erasing the bullet's shot
for the mind to mock me with a twist of the plot

like a sweet candy
brought the purples out of the fancy
the recurring reoccurs
the sixth written on a stone of hers
risk the whole day on one wish
slowing your life is a crime of selfish

its like I'm begging the tick of the night
with the devil a reunite
for the love for the sake
no space left much in me to uptake
for the love for the sake
I plead an another no matter the hurt it makes

drum roll before
I give up and close that door
because that would be the day
I **** the only thing that makes me stay
these illusions trapped on the pillow
are not for the living alone future to burrow

silly Apr 2021
i've been asked to be
in fancy anthologies,
be in fancy magazines.

to write freely on the page,
fill it with words,
light it up in flames.

after all,
everything i've learned to love,
vanishes in the end.
this makes no sense
jia Mar 2021
i write too many poems for you
ones i assure you don't know of
and you won't even read it
for the existence is beyond your knowledge

i write too many poems for you
ones i can't even read
it's just so hard to believe
that it's all about the same thing

i write too many poems for you
ones my hands just type without cue
how i mindlessly formulate it
in all honesty, i have no clue

i write too many poems for you
at one point i wish you knew
but I'm contented that you don't
for i know nothing would change

i write too many poems for you
but we're not on the same line
nor on the same stanza
neither in the same poem

i write too many poems for you
but it's time to stop now
it's tiring, don't you think?
to write, without a reader.
Bobby Dodds Jan 2021
“My friend was cremated today”
“Being a mom is so ******* hard”
“Not everyone follows american culture”
“Its hard looking at people around you progressing with life and being happy while you’re stuck battling mental health”
“I’m going to collapse this week. My bunny is going to die”
“I have deleted my Facebook of 6 years for the bettering of my health and to focus on myself”
“After 1 year and 6 months I finally gave my girlfriend her first ****** ever last night!”
“I love my girlfriend”
“I’m so happy right now”
“Nursing is not an honorable profession”
“Happy Birthday Bro…”
“Let me sleep”
“I’m heavily considering not fighting for parental rights”
“Just shaved my ****** hair off.. And **** do I look good”
“This is What a Lifetime of Abuse Looks Like”
“I feel like I’m not going to amount to anything”
“I feel lost”
“I haven’t shaved or trimmed my yoo hoo since the pandemic started”
“I just want some ******* tortillas”
“I miss you”
“People cannot handle it if you don’t drink with them. Why???”
“Let’s Pray for peace and comfort this year”
“I’m just not made for this world”
“I could’ve been killed today, but some how I am still here...”
“I am a bad person”
“I’m going to graduate college without having one friend or relationship”
“Missing my best friend...”
“Is it just me dealing with constant unhappiness and frustration”
“I messed up my grades”
“Stop Dwelling.”
“My Father is Dying, And I Wish I Was Upset About it”
“People who abused others emotionally deserve everlasting mental aches!”
“Have you ever felt special to someone and realize you weren’t that special after all?”
“I wish I was a cup or 2 bigger.”
“I wish I had a do-over for high school and college”
“I feel like everyone these days is lonely”
This is a short poem comprised of reddit titles in the R/offmychest community. I was scrolling through them after just finding out about it and I was thinking about how scary, how sad, how different each of these titles and posts were.
I thought about it a bit more and it hit me that these were only scary because of the humanity in them, they only shocked me, took my affront because I realized each one of these was a different person. Each one was a different life, a story.
Each one represents the *****, the irrational, the disgusting and beautiful ways that life forms itself into, whether its somones suicide,
Someone complaining about a diet,
Someone's regrets and thoughts,
Or just someone excited about ordering pizza,
It's all uniquely human.
It's all uniquely us.
You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken

              ©words of a withering soul
There's something fleeting, floating in this fancy,
Like fairy-tail we meet in midnight dreams,
Like ocean tide that brings its warmth upon us
In gentle gracious effervescent streams,
I see you there like flowers meet the sunshine,
There's so much happiness inside it almost shutters,
And bubbling wonder, and a wish to see you smiling,
And then my mind drifts off and my heart flutters…
Amanda Hawk Nov 2020
Wrap myself up in Saturday
Tighten the day around me
Relaxation should be fashion
With a stage of people lounging
Letting the week fall away
Wouldn’t that be luxury
A runway show
Of casual mornings, easygoing evenings
Affordability in the convenience
Drink down fancy coffee and hot chocolate
As Saturday becomes a world renowned designer
Of my relaxation
Favorite day-Saturday
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