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Emily Dec 4
I smoke until I can feel nothing
Because it is better than feeling everything
That's what it is. Everything
My heart is like my head
A thousand different thoughts, shifting and twisting
Changing, over and over again.
And I feel everything.
Always overwhelming, endless emotions
That never dissipate, but only build
My body is too small to hold all of this
It shouldn't be possible
I'm bone weary
I'm stuck in a current and I can't get out
Wave after wave after wave and I can't catch my breath
The world is spinning above me
And nothing will still
I feel everything
So I smoke until I can feel nothing
Slime-God Nov 16
suffocating, stuck, struck suddenly stressed
what’s a man to do when he’s sunk, sad and depressed?

The blind, bitter, *******’s been bountifully blessed
but can’t hold his head up high or even bother to dress.

He takes tablets of toxins, he’s told it’s only a test
he’s at the end of his rope now and he’s totally threshed

He’s seen a lot of ****** sights, seen his sisters suppressed
he’s seen the face of *** too, but he wasn’t impressed.
Liquid Bear Nov 15
The embers of a possibility
glow like miniature suns
as the fumes of my elation
rise to the heavens
like birds of pain and hope.

I ask myself:
are they true?
Could those embers
breed a new flame
to cleanse sky and earth?

The answer is sealed
inside my soul,
black streaked with gold:
eyes open wide,
hands extended,
open to the truth,
to whatever may come.
In this poem, I muse about finding strenght and possibilities within yourself and wondering whether those can be trusted. I also decide to confide in whatever comes from the inside and to learn from my mistake should I make one.
mental me watches material me
while she tries on, to no avail,
everything in our tiny closet.
mental me gets a kick out of
just how trivial we can be.

mental me possesses far more,
file upon file of everything,
good, neutral, and otherwise,
thats ever happened to us before.

material me doesn't even know
what to wear to coffee at noon.
she fights sleep, has bad posture,
and ignores all her symptoms
while mental me watches somberly.

whatever are we to do with ourselves.
To thine ownself be who, and

While you're being what you are,

Stray not from your path of heart,

How, where, when, and, sometimes,

Why, forever asked, and unanswered.
"...We(e),..." did okay election day, thanx; brava   :)    reality
If I make a mistake,
tame me 'till I break.
Chain the pain,
keep it awake.

For the sake of silence
cover me in violence
- the dance of absence
when I'm in alignment.

When I shatter beside you,
stutter when I confide in you.
A clutter of thoughts I give to you.
Free me with the wit of fools.

Make me a tool of your renewal.
Make me a reject of your approval.
My nature contradicts because it's a duel
between the fuel that guides me through.
and what my essence wants to do.
chichee Oct 24
Once upon a time, Oh but that’s such a boring way to start-
Once upon a time.
I was little red riding hood that knowingly stepped onto the wrong side of the path,
Hoping that a monster in the woods
Would come and get me, but you-
A hurricane, car crashes in slow motion, personified heartbreak-
Too much
Too much applesauce madam? The waiter asked, clean-shaven face bathed
In the New York skyline, ignorant to the gunfire explosions inside me as I waited for you.
No thank you, sir.
“Meet me at the station”, scrawled in messy, love- stained letters
In between the railway roars and the clatters of foreign accents and the struck chord of a bass
Signifying disappointment like a punch line
Reverberating through my skull.
Okay, repeat the mantra, one two- steady-
Four cycles later
I had your body pushed up flush against bricks and-
No shut up you don’t get to say anything after you go and shatter me like that
You’re sick do you know that? Lips snarling, heart breaking
You’re sick.
So maybe I was the big bad wolf after all.
Stairwell bricks glinted off iridescence and your mouth in that sad, sad laugh
Studying me like a dream brought to the ground,
All puffy lipped and eyes blown wide and pink like I was on some psychedelic high-
And you said “You’re still
A child with fanciful ideas of love, and the way you cling onto them-
Quite frankly, it’s terrifying.”
Please darling, let me redefine myself
Skip the pleasantries and small talk, scrap the story of little red riding hood-
Once upon a time, I was apology and you were forgiveness
I can imagine inside you, of alarm bells and sunken souls as you listen to the static white noise of
A dying heart
Hello darling, are you there? Can you hear me? Is this mic working?
I hate to sound like those magazine cut outs-
I hate to sound like,
Just another lover, just another cliché-
But you were the matchstick to my dynamite and nothing feels better
Than my own self- destruction, so won’t you please
Another chance? No?
Even Lucifer sometimes longs to be let
Into the gates of heaven again
I’ve cooked some apology,
I saved a plate for you
So for the love of *** come inside and have some before it goes cold.
A remix of Richard Siken's "Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out", it's a really beautiful poem.
No, I don't have writers block
I just felt pressure under the clock
As if there was an audience I have to please
Give me some time to think this through, please
I have not run out of art
I'm just looking into the beat
The blood has not stilled in my heart
I'm just trying to get back up on my feet
Sienna Oct 21
The wind is blowing
The waves are crashing
The clouds are moving
The day ends
The sun sets
Its quiet
The wind is blowing
The waves are crashing
The clouds are moving
The day begins
The sun rises
The world is living
Are you living too?
You are talking
Cars are honking
Nature's watching
The day ends
The sun sets
And you're not happy
Are you?
You are waking
Cars are starting
Nature's watching
That soon you'll see
Youre meant to be
Exactly who you are
So stay calm
Move along
And never doubt yourself
Because the wind keeps blowing
The waves keep crashing
And the clouds keep moving
The days keep coming
The sun keeps rising
And you'll keep waking too
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