it took away
my sight for life
it rooted into
the eyeholes of mine
till it reached my core of life;
the heart
I already gifted to you.
You see,
I placed it upon
your very hands,
and, for now on, it is ready
to break out into blossom.
It waits for you to deflower it.

I will write at length
About the brief time
We spent together
I will embellish the words
You left with me
Like articles of clothing
I will take a hammer
To the mechanism
That clicks on and on
And off and on
And tells me how I felt
I will hide myself
In a circle of salt
I will taste blood
When I bite my cheek

What is tired I don't know but I can feel it in my eyes, my brain.
A dream is suppose to make us float in the clouds, but how when they are all nightmares that lead into my daily seems?
What does it feel like to be rejuvenated and bright like the sun, except I have had to much sun or was it the rainy impact that I'm used to?
I say it's OCD, but is it really?
I say it's my anxiety and deny that it's probably depression, but is it really?
This house is filled with spirits, but I promise it's not schizophrenia.
My mind is a rollercoaster travelling at the speed of light, but which is faster?
I say it's OCD, but is it really? Yes since everytime and day I get an intrusive thought to say.
I sound fowl, grey and shady. Please understand I'm tired.
Going to run down in the ground, until my life pleads withe joy. Give me the sip of tea, since then I will feel awake.
Morning is here, the day is bright, the afternoon comes and I'm starting to get a fright, once it is evening and the sun melts beside the moon, I'm tired and afraid at night time for another tea to make me feel free!

Thank you for reading.
Shiny 1d

When you love someone with your heart,
It feels impossible to change direction.
You can't help rowing towards the storm,
even if it shouts out pain & misery.
But when your sails get torn,
when you have water filling in,
when the part of your boat
called "hope" goes missing,
you'll turn your back on the storm.
After your love changes direction,
it may maneuver towards the storm
Once again perhaps sometime later,
but unlike before, it is now careful.


It will always happen
         The thrill of running wild
Living free and forgotten
         For all the temptation and desires
But somewhere along
         When our hair didn’t feel the wind
We gasp and slowly…
Walking, and turn around
          To see how far we can distance ourselves
From that we ran away from
          No matter how far
We still look back at it
          No matter how many times we run
We still remember it
          The excitement in steps
That didn’t need speed

Run wild and free

“quo vadis, domine?”

i. you’re saint peter on a cross,
hung upside-down, staring at the
bright blue and if your arms
weren’t pinned to rotting wood
you’d reach out—

(petrus, dear petrus, why
hast thou forsaken me?)

there’s iron in your grip,
fingers curled in supplication
as you, the fisherman from Bethsaida,
bears only his own sins

the pain fades for a moment
under the sunlight and  
you’d smile if your lips didn’t bleed
at the harsh stretch of skin

they poke your side with a spear,
but only red pours out and the
barren ground below you will receive
no nourishment

you are no god, no holy deity
walking to and fro amongst mortals

(O’ you of little faith, why did you doubt?)

martyr, martyr they’ll chime with each
bell toll, thousands of years from now—
long after your body has perished in
the valley between Sodom and Gomorrah

you are simon peter, the betrayer, the liar, the
you are oh so human, and the world will
never forgive you for it
bedrock, they’ll call you, and mean it

you’ll be hailed a saint and people will kiss
your bronze image, dust oil against leaden
feet and imagine that your gaze is not fixed
solemnly to the earth

(now, nothing but a false idol to some,
draped in velvet and handed a crown—
the rooster crows, and so god too will
denounce your existence)

peter's one of my favorite disciples so here have a poem about him
CG 2d

You are the wolf,
wild, reckless, free
Howling up at the moon,
Breath seen in the cold night,
From or to - unknown.
Instinctive, predatory, beautiful
You are the wolf.

MyDystopiA Sep 13

Rinse repeat
the soul clean
walk the tightrope
to my dreams
pull apart
my stitches and seams
bleed out the bleak
buries me beneath
drowning in defeat
living on my knees
upside down
the yellow screams
in threes.


alexis 4d

I envy them
For they are free
But that unfortunately isn't me
They soar in the sky
While I'm stuck down here in my dimise
I hear them sing
"If you can't fly then run",once said Martin Luther king jr
So I run and never look back

been a while since i've plugged myself....

18+ e book on sale for 99 cents. 170 pages of very dark poetry. title: fuck utah. drugs sex violence depression black comedy etc

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