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Sydney Hafner Sep 10
It started in the kitchen
and the walls still hold the feeling of still existing troubles
you were worried about,
so I went out with just half a pack of smokes to fix it
Well I came home to you in the kitchen
and confessed I was now
3 paychecks down
and had been laid off four months ago
Although your tears made my knees weak
and I had to step outside,
I was still feeling pretty lucky
discomfort in fulfilling our hopes
hesitance in facing our fears
where do we draw the line
between living and being alive
if our actions speak louder than our words
how do we measure sound
in the face of death
why do we let her down
in knowing that we never settled
bets with our hearts
gambling our existence away
basing our worth in cards
dealt by someone else
concrete in our stubborn ways
when do we realize
changing habits has no price
yet the highest cost
but we still refuse to pay
for debts we acquire
and complain about the weather
until our bodies collapse
Isn't it ironic that
Silence screams so loud
we drown out the sound
and pray the voices pipe down
" they don't sound like me anymore
  they won't go away and each day
  a demented voice pulls me under
  and now I wonder...
which way is up?"

Isn't it ironic how
playing cards can cut
like a razor blade
and red dice rolling
become an evil eye that winks.
Does that cloth
on a tricky table
feel as soft
as the lining on a nearby coffin?

Isn't it ironic
when love's soft touch
devolves into lust
and broken hearts
disintegrate into rust,
when a silent embrace
becomes an empty bed
but that void only deepens
when we cheapen
our body and soul
to feel whole
for a mere moment.

Isn't it ironic
we want a world
so far from reality
we blur the one we have
as we snort, smoke and swallow
our problems away
only for them to return
on a much darker day.

A hundred vices
**** a thousand men
and in solidarity we stand.
Let one brave soul say
I have been bitten by these...
and more
so many more!
Let me lean on you brother
Let me comfort you sister
Let us stumble forward together!
Vices break so many, but grow in the dark as they take and take and don't ever give back. We stew in our sickness and stand alone instead of reaching out.
Jana Pelzom May 20
There it stood,
To ruin the mood;
All bright and red,
The Russian roulette.
The gunshot had rang,
Then a head started to hang;
The Lady had left;
Death not there to jest,
In this wilting hour.
There chilled to the bone,
The bullet lodged alone;
Jack froze what was left of the breath.
There left the only life,
The gun in its warmth,
But maybe not for I hear a cry
And someone nearby
Has seen what night could not hide.
Felt first hand what was noir;
It was chance played;
Not with Luck at hand,
But Death as the croupier.
Noir leave it to Chance ©️ 2020 Jana Pelzom
Carlo C Gomez Feb 29
Raised on vaccine
Children of the thorny hedgerows
Lines blur
Minds stir
But lungs breathe in the bloom

Raised on old wives tales
Children of the wide open sea
Sights clear
Horizon blue
But brain dead in the surf

There's strength in numbers
Once immunity is lost
So is hope
It was a sixpenny slot
which wasn't that much,
but when that's all you've got
it was.

twenty shots to *** twenty ducks
and you'd get your sixpence back,
quack ****** quack
never once got it back
and I always walked home,

that should have taught me something
about something, but when you're ten
you can't know anything about something
or I never thought so.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
An excerpt from the book, How to Survive the Walk Home From Vegas, After Losing Your Shirt.

" interesting thing about
road ****--it's better the second day."
Dani Oct 2019
It is when you are corrupted that it is most difficult to go back, but falling out of innocence is easy. It's as if you could laugh you way from sweet to greed. Just step on down to the *****, wet ground. When your knees hit the floor and you want to stand back up, that will be the moment you realize just how hard it is to climb out. Climb out of the mud that coats your body. The mud that you dismissed as it filled your lungs and spewed from your mouth with every word you spoke. It felt good and easy sliding down into a puddle of muck. Now try to stand up. Try to wipe your greed soaked clothes dry. It's difficult coming back to innocence when you fall so deep into ignorance.
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