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Nigdaw Sep 17
He walks the end of the pier, alone
No home to go to,
A ghost in ragged clothes
Passing among the crowds,
Unseen and unheard
But he always feeds the gulls,
Their noisy raucous squabbling
Over a few scraps of bread,
Reminds him of how unhappy
All these tourists really are,
Pretending to enjoy their holiday
Kidding themselves they are free.
acacia Sep 2
WHEN I DRINK LEMONADE: If I could call you, I’d tell you we’re still friends.

INNER THOUGHT: I don’t think he wants me as he watches me through the window dancing; as he watches rain dance on me, tempted to be there: by the way, I will never be there.

HE SHOUTS: Will you come in from the weather outside? The leaves are drunk on absinthe again! You can follow me up the ladder and I will reel your hair in.

TRYING ON MY NIGHTGOWN: Draped in silhouettes, I am; made from fibers taken from the Holy Day of Martyrs. On that day, you can see Jesus walking in the parades: and I’d really want to, by the way, I’d really want to see Jesus there.

FINALLY: My whole room lifted with the Sun as it took downers through the night, helped him come up, helped him sink down in beds of cards—court cards, beds of Ace of Wands. Maybe if you pulled The Lovers it’d be better. Maybe it’d be better.

FLYING KITES ON A BEACH: Will we come back from feeling so drifty? Touring on a blade and I’m dropping the knife, right now, on your back.

LOOK AT ME IN MY SKIRT: You don’t even notice when we’re on trips: your eyes are always closed, and you’re always staying in (again). Tired of senses feeling so senseless, can’t you be more wary of where you are walking?

REALLY?: You walk into my room, when and where I am naked, and I am getting climbed over by rats—they won’t stop!

TRUST ME: I will break your heart again. I really want to. I’d eat it for breakfast, I’d take you for lunch, and I’d steal you for supper. Don’t you question me, I know how I am writing. Don’t feed me lemons, I am aware and sure of how I am writing.

LET ME: I thought I had bronchitis, once, when he told me to go away: I cursed at him. He said he was disappointed. Maybe it’d be better that way.

BACK IN THE DAY (I HATE WHEN IT’S A BIRTHDAY): Never whole or complete: always fragments! Unholy realization whilst only seeing reflections, and never the source—if my eyes are exclusive so is my heart, if my eyes are exclusive so is my light.
night night
Heidi Franke Aug 19
The human appetite
To **** the pain
to not experience any

The human appetite
to run a-way
far,                      away
seeds planted from our

The more we run
the bigger the
plant,     thump!  says despair
the hungrier
we get
the greater the ruin
in our run

Don't avoid
the burdens of
engaging lost plans, find again
your A,B,C's, a friendly classmate, your sister
or others.
Other Wise,
the human
starves its self
in a marathon
by sealing off mouths.

Leaving one, you, her, they,
in the
hunger cycle
to feed
then.  crushed
left over a lean-to void,
And endless hunger

Elementary words
     Don't avoid
          I L.o.v.e and Y.o.u
It requires a handshake
a' la carte,
Indulge in
nutrient rich
The elementary
   remedy is not in
the crash diet.
Come home now.
Ring a bell
Your table is set
I am here
It's time for dinner.
I lost my brother to suicide. Our thoughts control our actions. Contain, refresh, reset your thoughts to avoid getting hungry to end your pain. Pain can lead to dessert if you stay the course and call out for help. Please never give up.
Katherine Aug 7
I keep eating things I shouldn’t.
Dreams, cars, ink, brick
These are the things that make me sick.
Skin, bone, flesh and scars
Topped with sugar, flush with stars
Love, death, silence still
Down the gullet, living will
Though I swore I wouldn’t
I’m eating things I shouldn’t
Elemenohp Jul 4
You were the first drop of rain after a seemingly endless drought.
The beginning of the end of a barren Era.

After that first drop, the crops began to take life.
The trees seemed to stand taller,
The animals, seemed calmer.

You were the start of everything new.
You were the embodiment, of everything true.

I couldn't ask a thing from you,
Your presence is enough to fulfill a lifetime.


**** it until it kills you
A Simillacrum Mar 15
Everyone says that
I should search for happiness.
Happiness doesn't interest me,
isn't interesting.

Everyone says that
I'm wasting my time on Earth,
dropping the dirt on myself in
my digging to hell.

Well what the **** would I do
with a satisfied desire?
I'll not be sated to meet Satan,
but to take the dour throne!

Feed me!
Offer up a
hidden danger
of a love.
Feed me pain.
That I may
offer up. . .
when the prophet immigrated to Yathrib
it was called the lighted city, after he immigrated
it was filled with new sound, he advised

them at little word,"
greeted everyone you look
feed every hunger , he seemed

pray to the God at night
you will feel right
and enter the heaven without fight

or hard or any effort
that the meaning he said
could we do it
the hunger covered every world, the rich countries pay for weapons. if they paid for persons the world will change
A Simillacrum Feb 26
How am I
still walking
still breathing
thoughts & feelings?
How am I
still drinking
still eating
in the earth's stomach?
Feeding myself to feed you.

Feeding myself to feed you.

. . .

Wet fingertip offered to the wind itself,
summon me personal heaven,
please, summon me
personal heaven.

Flat foot big toe tapping out the pulse
of the bare ground on concrete,
asking heaven of
the soil. Pleading.

Feeding myself to feed you.
Happily happening,
as but a terrible chance.

Happily happening.
Haylin Feb 1
I don't feel the want, to talk too much
her touch and eyes say more
every stroke, tender kiss
reaches, to my core

A subtle caress of motion
an embrace of words, pure art
statuary built from scratch
moving in my mind, and heart

So don't stop, or pause
on the path, of silent need
hand in hand, we'll wander on
and on each other, feed
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