Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
troublingly, when they’re talking,
it’s usually not in my direction
and I rather like that a lot
but when it is directed at me
it’s usually nothing profound.

unaccountably, I have a lack
of response towards soulless
creatures who have zombified
their vitality

they’ve exhausted their inventiveness
opted out to conformity
over-welcomed their stay
and burnt out their last match

the apex of their days is the
sandwich they’ll have for lunch,
the power mower they ride on
in the Saturday afternoon heat,
the motor oil they use for their car,
the purchases they’ve made online
with free shipping and handling

and it’s no wonder I’ve undergone
a number of ways to elude their
temperament

making no eye contact
keeping my head down
walking really fast and
pretending to be busy

but the more you avoid them,
the more attracted they are to you

their castrated lives their wives envisioned
are so flavorless like taking a bite out of
an aspirin and they think their persistence
is stunning when it’s nothing more than
relentless and wearisome

I look out the window
feeling trapped
the day is out there
life is out there
not much life
but enough to
take a chance

and very few have the courage
to let go and break free

the little white spider crawling
up my windshield has more
courage, character, charisma
than I or the half-bred egrets
I encounter with on the daily

who knew these assortment
of words arranged in a
peculiar way would give
me the courage to go this far?

but how much further
am I willing to go?

when the world feels like a rope
you’re dangling from above
the swampland of futility
and the imbeciles circle
below like crocodiles
ready to lunge up
and snap at your
insides

I hear their idiot laughter
and their footsteps
working towards
me now

as the door closes slowly
and the light narrows
paper thin-like into
the windowless dark.

I cringe and
wait for it
to end.
Kim Essary Aug 25
Your ears are foolish to believe every word thought to be heard
Your eyes hold trickery as to what they think they really see.
Things of the past you may have forgotten,
So they should remain forgotten instead of manifesting only what you hear of negativity,
For if you fall in the darkness where might you find the light.
Foolishness is upon you as you act upon things you no not of .
Such things, self proclaimed rumors, lies spit from the devil's tongue.
Rumors are:
Spoken by liars
Spread by Idiots and
Believed by Fools.
The story is told to one and misconstrued by the rest.
lilly Aug 12
he does everything halfway.

he laughs halfway:
chuckles travel halfway into my ear before he
clamps down a hand,
covering his charming calamity,
interrupting his intricate melody
-- half my mind melts into quicksand.
( it consumes and engulfs                     
the halfway bits of you i see;             
i can't have you, but even little bits
are good enough for me. )

he touches halfway:
reaches in for a hug but halts his motion,
as if i could burn him with half a breath.
he always settles for a hand on my shoulder,
or a bump at my side,
or a hesitant high five.

he touches halfway, but somehow
with just a tentative touch,
holes shaped like his eyes
are hammered into my heart.
his footsteps stain
every crevice of my brain
-- i can no longer clean myself of him.

he lies halfway:
he used to.
told me he loved me but
forgot to act like it.
smiled at me like i hung the moon
-- like i could scramble across skies,
searching for the brightest stars,
just to ****** them up and
serve them to him on a silver platter.
( i could, would.                            
but half my silver isn't enough
for your platinum-plated
plastic pulse. )
he sweetly smiled at me,
its own sugar-like song serenading me
-- but he simply did the same
to anyone who bowed in his reign.

he lies halfway and it is enough,
for his lies to wrap their way,
halfway around my gut,
and trap my lungs just enough
that i grow used to a tight chest
and holding half my breath.

he does everything halfway.

but when he loves?
he doesn't love halfway,
he loves no way.
-- maybe for someone else.
( but not for me; not for half of me.
am i not worthy                        
of more than half of you? )

he loves no way:
not in the way he says he "cares"
nor in the way he shares
only filtered fragments of himself.
the halfway bits of him i see
do not combine to form a full body.
scatter and speck and silvers
of someone i thought i knew.

he loves no way,
( and i am half a fool always,
to settle so surreptitiously )
for half of any.
half my heart wholly longs for half of you.
the other half is glad i never wholly gave in to you.
Sara Kellie Jul 21
Blessed are the fools
who remember read ink.
Fooled are the blessed
who critically think.

Kaydee.
Indoctrination
JJ Inda Jul 11
a foolish grin
will get you far
so long as you keep quiet.
days
are meant to be bright,
and the moonlight
is a guide;
not that you’ll follow.
PoserPersona Jun 23
Organize life in the pursuit of truth
And let emotions come as they do
Utilize feelings as delicate tools
But do not abuse as with the fools
Sunshine May 13
young kids
falling in love
breaking their own hearts
wearing hearts on their sleeves
and their tear-stained faces
at seventeen
crying over another

young kids
falling in love
over and over again
never caring who's next
and their ***** shoes
at eighteen
crying over another

young kids
falling in love
the never-ending lifestyles
hitting the nicotine
and their broken hearts
at nineteen
crying over another
I remember when I said I love you
at eighteen,
same age I broke your heart


xoxo
-sunshine
Next page