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Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of know I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.
kind hands Mar 17
the fear
that binds the wall
that hides the truth
is non logical
but rational

divides the self
and keeps me aloof

must be named
but not shamed
to make me whole

it serves a use
that has no use

fear is the function
of the wound
the causation of confusion
and its taken root
The rays of the sun reflect on my eyes, from early this morning.
Thus I am still weary, Ye I shall scorn.
I try to chase the wind; my mind is too unique.
My heart filled with rage, O my why today.

2. Now it is noon, thus the scorching heat.
The boredom is depressing, for all I do is sit.
Perhaps I am contemptible, for my laziness.
My selfishness is outrageous; I am without context.

3. The sun is down, my energy is depleted, my willingness is diminished.
I am full of pain, relieve me of my misery.
Thou cannot save me, I am derisive.
Who will come to my aid, for I am dismissive.
kind hands Mar 9
i had
a slice of normality
the other day

and
it was
******* delicious
kind hands Mar 9
please
dont feed me
to the vultures

im already
skin and bone
kind hands Mar 3
give me something real
a hand to hold
so i can feel

not just a flailing soul
lost
in lifes bitter gale

torn and tethered
hands of steel

give me something real
a hand to hold
so i can feel
kind hands Feb 25
this nauseating numbness
eats away
day after day

endless
relentless
repressive
scream

and still
the water drips
tipping me
from restless

ripping me
towards a man
whos broken and helpless

it wears me down
screaming
hoarse and breathless

it dont change
day after day

grab it
but i cant catch it
its my life
and its passing me by
kind hands Feb 28
this rubiks cube
is spinning & dancing
and im always ******* grasping

empty hands
clasp again
im tired of this grey noose

house of straw
built once more
or will it take root

share your words
share your thoughts
help me navigate
Perla Feb 20
There I go falling in line again. Dancing around the pistol before anyone even bothers to fire it at the ground.
Struggling to stop self sabotaging
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