scooby 7h

They were born,
(though that fact will be widely contested by historians for approx. 75 years)
in the primordial tidepool,
of heavy-set indigo potion made,
by a man who,
never touched them directly.

This, supposedly happened in the alley behind your house,
and doing as a youth does,
you dried them off,
with the bottom of your Lakers tee,
which would leave an ashy mark that even your mom couldn't get out.
They were precious
in your hand.
Then you settled on a name
because the assumption most conclude from
what was retold is,
that they did not know/want/deserve a name of their own.

They lived, like most wake up.
A video of a feather falling,
chopped, screwed, and played in reverse.
They bit their nails down to the nub,
pink, something quietly went missing,
but ultimately sent the
message that there was no part of them
they wouldn't destroy
for your comfort.

The discourse around this subject is as follows:
The Body: Senate, Forum, Public Inquiry.
The Stands: Crowds, the people and their participation, The Ire.
The Debate: Human-Performance (now 18 years running).

Where the issue arises is during the event the performer was seized and stabbed 23 times to their inevitable (contestable) death.

They were born again,
dropped
by accident,
into the same soup, which as the story goes
leads to the same circumstances and sub-
sequently the same outcomes.
It will be another 23 year before they have a successful run,
yet they float up,
feather demerging
headache surfacing a red breath of
immaculate coordination
and what is still unknown is whether,
they died at all.

work in progress, I probably need to clarify. also thanks for the support y'all

I flung myself in a sudden reckless abandon
Strung myself with every willing person
Drenched in lust for a quick action
Needing the rush to feel a sensation

The thrill of seeking hearts
The feel of touching parts
Needing to find my own inspiration
By the way of candied prostitution

Needing to find the right heat
Grinding to find the right beat
Seasoned with the salty tears of fame
Glazed in bitter-sweet laughs of shame.

This syrupy tongue who went through mouths
These amber sapped eyes taking away doubt
This dripping voice who tells sweet acid lies
Behind the truth of cheating everyone else denies

For one such person is ready to give
As much as he is ready to recieve
The poisoned berries of adultery and sin
Like the flaming desire of someone from within

For what makes someone who yearns
Find love in dizzying patterns
So broken and loss with none to please
One who just wanted to find aching release

Sometimes we needed to be lost in order to be found.

Dearest friend
how can I ever make you
understand
that I have loved you
since the first day
I found you

But my friend,
could you ever
comprehend
that you found me
lost and alone
out of balance
devoid of peace
and fixed my broken
soul

Joshua Hobbs Nov 4

Like pages in a story,
one that I'll never read.
Staring at the ceiling wondering-
Why wasn't it to be?

Traversing the wastelands of one's own mind,
wading through the guilt,
and always out of time.

There's too much pressure...

Nothing you can say could hurt me more than I,
For, I am my own Enemy.
I am the Last Demon that shall die.

Surrounding voices with no voices heard,
only saddened faces,
empty mouths that speak a melancholy word.

A new friend, A new face.
Now, they're gone...
Another rat race.

I'll lay here, with this pen in my hand.
Stuck in gaze... Wondering,
who... Who was that man?

It was I, who I had seen.
Back in a time of Joy,
before I knew what real pain means.


Perhaps, I'll see you again one day.
When I finally give in...
When, on a cloud, I'll float away.

Geri Lewel Nov 1

I wish I met you sooner
my heart knows no love
I wish I met you sooner
so my heart knows love

my soul was empty
yours too
my soul was empty
yours was too

I loved to write
you loved to draw
I love you
you love me

I was afraid
you were scared
we took a gamble
look at us now

I have let my inbox fill,
Let my hair grow long,
And moved the cup that collected my life
That constantly ranneth over
Spilling drops to the ground
To the side temporarily
So a deeper vessel could be found.
But I'm not worried -
I'll be around.

10/30 Inktober prompt: Found
No edits allowed.
Foolinglife Oct 28

The day i looked at you,
I found love in you.
The day you looked at me,
You found love too,
Not in me, but in my eyes,
Growing for you.

Ame Agami Oct 17

Just like everything else in life
Love doesn't last

We appreciate love while we have it
Try our best to keep it
And when we lose it
We start looking for it again
And so on
----
© Ame Agami

chloe fleming Oct 14

You were laying in a bathtub
And all they did was wash you.
You were alone.
Bruised toes hanging of out the white porcelain.
Your hair, damp and thick with mildew, dripped off my fingers.
And you were alone.
All they did was wash you.
Blue lips, puckered as if to say your final speech
That everyone around you left you alone,
Entirely alone.
Until the only one left to find you,
Was me.

Next page