Kit 1d
I destroyed the pretty.
It's all emptiness now, what do you expect? You can't expect me to trust you further! Why would you let me break?

I destroyed the pretty.
It's not the question if you trust me, it's the question if I still feel a needle in my arm. It's the question for love and pain; a heart attack in a field of broken Roses.
Why can't you break me further? I am done, and you took my lifesaving essence.

How may I feel betrayed today? If it wasn't you that destroyed, oh, but it was me.

I ruined the pretty, I destroy the last lovely, I broke it.
One was left, now two are shattered.

So give me pain,
pain to ban the feelings,
pain to ban my life decisions,
pain to ruin further what's already lost,
has always been meant to be lost.
God why does it hurt so bad?
It's not like heartbreak,
it hurts like betrayal
and it hurts like death.
The feeling of death, deeply sitting down, wearing me out like a broken glass of beauty.

I threw you down, Glasshouse
I destroyed the pretty all the beauty is what I took away.
Shattered on the glass wood floor.
Death crawls up my spine like a spider to its to be killed prey.

I can't hear you anymore, how could you???
How on this earth dare you???
You left me!
You let me break you.
Why would you want that?
Isn't one destroyed body enough?
Isn't my misery beautiful enough?
I felt the worst when I wrote this (not about writing it, but I was chaos when this was created) , it's about selfhate and a person very important to me...
Blank 1d
When you steer the unknown
He'll be chasing around
Let your guard down
And you'll be the one who'll drown
Isaac 3d
If I versed God in a game of pool,
Would his style of play be awkward or cool?
Would he miss some shots, just to be kind?
Or sink them all, leaving me behind?
When the game ends, would he leave the room bored?
Or stay back and help me move my skills forward?
Written 17 August 2018
Don't be so quick to tip your king.
Do not rush to fold your hand.
It is not time to take that bow,
there's still more time to take your stand.

Don't draw that curtain.
Don't throw in the towel.
Don't close the still open door.
Don't take your coat.
Don't tear off your gloves.
Don't slow and play for a draw.

Sit up, stand firm
and raise your chin,
focus both worn eyes.
Fight on til the last,
play on for the win
and take your waiting prize.
Don't tip your king. Play on.  You never know what might emerge from the game, from the fight.
Phi 5d
I’ve been playing this game
for damn near twenty one years
and long ago lost track
of my wins and losses

I simply got caught up
in the winsomeness
of all that is

Why keep a tally
that’s callous and rigid
with the infiniteness of living at your fingertips
How I play the game.
EA Sports.
It's in the game.

How do you play the game?

Game game game
The salt water washes away the sin
crashing on the rocks so violently,
trickling down tracing my skin
the most beautiful symphony.
There’s nothing that I detest more
than the sand encasing my toes,
but still my home sits on the shore
I love the depth and adore the lows.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be,
The waves strongly embracing
my heart stopping yet racing.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
Among the bass and the cod
I’ll never again see the sky
sacrifice my heart to be a martyr.

You know sand is a kin to soil
for underwater the seaweed will grow,
and with passion the bubbles boil
we do not reap; we do not sow.
Hoarding a seashell collection
though I can not craft jewelry,
I’d still offer quite a selection
a salt crown was never meant for me.

Drag me down into the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
The tide will lock on and carry me
until I’m listing and sinking.

I’ll be a drowned god,
for what is dead may never die,
but rises again stronger and harder.
And I may be very flawed,
to that I could never deny
I can’t negotiate nor can I barter.

Drag me down to the sea
where I’ve always been destined to be.
An escape where no one can flee,
forever cursed to be drowning.

I’ll be a drowned god,
I’ll rise again but painfully slow.
No one will wait to applaud,
but we do not reap and we do not sow.

For what is dead may never die,
but rises instead stronger than I.
For what is dead may never die,
I never lead and following; I could never try.
Jon Thenes Aug 10
Billy got violent
It used to be an apparition
And now it fights for a vast attention
A geist clear and present
A feast for the mealing viewing of a gross company
:This explosion tuned on tide
And now it is our SwearHeart

Billy was so silent
Now it votes out all its crushings
All its firing angers
It's unnamed energy

The progenitor speaks :
Turn that Clown upside down
You Hanged Child
You Fool Card
By your age I'd joined the military
Had friends
Knew a girl
You are hard work ;
Our little SwearHeart

You're Thin Skin
Worn outside in
Understand (blinkered)
You must live in vain sight
You mustn't cut smart sound
Be team, be trophy
Make us proud
Our little SwearHeart

You play this part brightly
Perfect this Art
Turn in The Performance
And make us quite proud
Our Bitter SwearHeart
With our backing
Join in the game
And plea tame
Our Vicious SwearHeart
sat on a bench
the wind blew strong
played a pipe in the distance
and the sun was somewhere
the wind blew strong
leaf game and wind
I was sitting on the bench
eyes looking at the trees
recalled autumn
recalled former moments
the wind blew strong
leaf game and wind

pookie Aug 9
A spiral
A staircase
A long fall

How ever you decend it's always down,
Never do we see the light before we go,
It's forever darkness,
Never do we know what waits for us,
We think we know,
We hope we know,
Never do we get a chance to change our minds,
It's there it's easy once you've made the distance to get there.

What ever we do we decend,
I won't romanticise it it's not a decision we should make yet we do,
I won't tell you to stop because that will push you even harder than before because hell what do I know.

But I will say is this:

My mind is my prison
My body the vehicle I use
My soul the fuel
The decent my escape

Every morning it is there
Every night it welcomes me like a lover
Every time I close my eyes it becons to me
Every time I get up it threatens to pull me down

Yet I stand strong
Resting on the edge
Like running a knife across my throat hard enough to bite but not bleed
A damgours game to feel alive
To feel at all

A decent into darkness
A game we play alone
Krys Aug 9
Luck. Luck treads the line between disaster and survival.
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.

Surely, the glory can be regained?
Borrow from those you know. Make a new bet.
Borrow from strangers. Make a new bet.
Make deals with the predators.
Point of no return. You thought they wouldn’t hunt you down?
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.

We’re all fools here.
This is our lesson of repentance.
We romanced misfortune and she loved us enough to grant us omens of disaster.
With no meaning left in our lives, we are shadows. Shadows that want to survive.

Take the gun.  Raise the barrel to the side of your head.
Maybe fortune will pity you.

They say the greatest luck is dying at the right time.
Is this the right hour? Minute? Second?
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.

Pull the trigger, fool.
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