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I literally can't explain
How I'm still here;
Every single attempt
I've FAILED
Year after year
Went bottoms up
On a fresh bottle of Unisom®
FAIL
Two bottles of the same blue
At the same time
FAIL
THREE bottles
But this time
Of the extra strength variety
A 96 count in each
FAIL
One swipe of a blade
Straight across
Horizon inspiration
FAIL
Two more swipes
From left to right
Both left and right respectively
At an angle this time
FAIL
Eyes closed before a five story attempt to fly
Minus wings
FAIL
What have I learned?
Only that the next one
MUST NOT FAIL
Don't worry,
I'll get it right eventually
Trust me
You'll all see
I'll be
The hero in my story
Slaying the beast,
Escaping this purgatory
And FINALLY
Ending this tragedy
The only way I know how

©2025
Is this to much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Sorry not sorry. I'm only relaying my reality
Immortality Jan 22
You
You are the flame
I would burnt in
just to feel your warmth
just simple.... :)
I don't know, it's more like, I am saying this to my goals, lol....

Exams are going on, many done and even more to come....
hectic year.....phewwww....
A boy once dreamt, not of teaching's creed,
But paths adorned with ambition's fire.
From commerce halls, where dreams proceed,
To B.Ed’s realm, bound by fate’s quagmire.

In SOE's corridors, where silence sways,
Among 250 souls, yet so alone.
The boy endured, through mundane days,
With steadfast hope, his dreams his own.

Mistakes of youth cast him in this tide,
Yet serendipity graced his strife.
Two mentors wise walked close beside,
Illuming the shadows of this life.

Peers spoke of gossip, in trivial vein,
While his sharp edges dulled in their midst.
Their demeaning chatter, a source of disdain,
Yet his lotus heart in mud persist.

Through Somai Bagh’s halls, he shone so bright,
In online realms, his spark sustained.
A sweet supervisor, her smile’s soft light,
Ignored his mischief, her patience unfeigned.

With winter’s breath, by fog’s embrace,
Chai warmed the bonds of hearts once new.
Serendipity smiled, her radiant face,
In her friendship, his solace grew.

To Manu ma'am's P. lab, he carried his art,
His words, his soul, unveiled that day.
A poet’s courage, a beating heart,
Recited verses in bold array.

The end now nears, of this tale so vast,
A chapter closes, yet dreams ignite.
Through trials endured, the boy holds fast,
A hero poised to claim his light.

So here he stands, with resolve anew,
Charming, steadfast, and free of dread.
It’s Kanishk, dear reader, bidding adieu,
A lotus grown where others tread.
                                                                 By:- KANISHK
Snow red fox Dec 2024
Stretching out like a lion before a fight, dressing like Madonna before a flight.

The scene is filled with blurred out faces, using cigar filled spaces, with big fat snout that grin behind champagne cases. Using tux and hat to hide its hideous face.

The music starts, curtains drop, the dress is on, breath is held. The **** show is to start.

Stand up and start to spin.

Spin and twist like a quiz with questions of riches.
The growing snouts are getting greater as the ash trays are getting major.

The ace and break of broken pines and spine that been rearranged to fit the Madonnas dress.

The show must continue, continue to stand and twist and jump and smile like some sort of an idiot.

Stand at the tiptoes reaching for the gold above while the tips are dripping thru. The bleeding tips that keep painting the ceiling red are painting runes on the ceiling and floor like a sign for the sos.

The pigs are wheezing, the ash is in the air, the gold has fallen. Just the ash that builds up the throat, the only motivation that keeps the smile on and the floors glowing red. The curtain drops the wheezing stop. The floor is so close and the gold is so far. Bette luck next time is all I hear.
Even when the tips of hope is bleeding the result feel so close
Anais Vionet Dec 2024
(a piece from high school (I’ve been reorganizing))

I am simply at my worst these days.
Wild and unpredictable emotions rush on me - it's a place where the layer of control and composure are very thin.

This school year has been an endless working, always desperate, collection of days.

Each passing week seemed to unmask some flaw in me.. Like peeling a rotten onion.

Emotionally, spiritually, I’m drubbed—I droop like a hanged man.

It's not the work—I survive (piano) competitions and academic battles as if by some brand of magic..

No, it's more.
I have lost my goal. Like biblical engineers raising the tower of Babel on the plain of Sennaar, I am struck by a lack of focus. My direction, my original plans, seem shallow—I stand purposefully gelded.

It's worse because I'm somehow so much less who I want to be.

Like an asymptotic curve I constantly miss my ideal. I am hunted, internally, by my own inner voice, that ruthless, pittyless, seeker of perfection.. it lurks like the prowling wolf, stalk bent walk.. sifting my every thought, my every action for flaws.. until like the wing weary hunted pray I could almost welcome the killers warmth for sweet silence

In a mood somewhere between cowardly and courageous I finally approached my mom..

In a speech from the scaffold, I told her of my black, tight, treacherous spiral.. of my doubts about everything.

I expected the worst.. a disappointment, in less than cryptic, ciphered messages, a slow sharpening of her claws on me for endless shortcomings..

Instead, I got miracles..
as if rigid constellations had shifted.. an atmosphere of freedom earned.. and at least for that moment, the mom who used to sing me awake in the mornings as a girl.. and a delicious summer of rest.
.
.
A song for this:
Everyday Is A Winding Road by Sheryl Crow
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_02.mp3
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 12/05/24:
drub = soundly defeated
neth jones Dec 2024
i will build a yurt            it will satisfy my soul
i will make a short film
i will learn polite society's manner
these things   will satisfy my soul
i will become genuine and plant a bright garden
   and satisfy my soul
i will employ better personal hygiene
   become sexually activated
        and roam the streets aggravated
will i satisfy my soul there ?
raise a flag, have a care ?
i could eat a meal slowly  you know  as an experience
     using mouthfeel skills and detecting it's notes
don’t pay the bill  start a riot  and register to vote
i will - i won't ; do the things
    and rattle my pelt til i am soul sated
Antonio Nov 2024
If instead of a human being,
pain and suffering grinds against your crotch,
will your sickness and desire be healed,
or it will be traumatized for all the unsaid sins,
dig me higher and you might laugh at me,
but maybe, only maybe if you really try,
and take whatever is left of me and keep it tight
you will see the man i try to be, a much needed change, even thought it doesn't seem.
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