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Chris Oct 2019
Ceaseless scratching
The sound of fingernails on skin
Constant
Unending
Rapid
More
I need it more.
Oh god.
Oh ****.
I can feel the Need.
It's all over.
The sensation.
Not even here. Just a mirage.
Just a dream.
Just a fever.
What I want.
NO
What I need.
When will it come?
How long have I waited?
Hours?
Days?
Months???
Or only minutes?
Time
Oh please go faster
A kettle
Boil?
That's it!
If I don't think
Then it will speed up.
How to achieve that though?
Oh,
I did it.
Just thought I'd type out whatever comes to my mind. I'm kind of tired of typing in a bunch of restrictive formats. I like them at times but I just wanted to try something new. Let me know what you think. I'm a **** for attention so I'll do whatever the public wants.
Thanks for reading.
Enjoy.
HTR Stevens Oct 2019
I ‘kept watch’ at the Pearly Gate
While St. Peter went for his tea;
As a ‘bouncer’ I was third-rate  -
One and all just slipped in for free!
Anastasia Oct 2019
is this a joke
you're kidding me
right?
you're lying
you don't
love me
right?
you're messing with me
you're trying to make your friends laugh
just another funny story to tell
right?
i don't understand
this is
fake
it has to be
Juhlhaus Sep 2019
Animated by twitch of muscle,
Electric spark through live wire,
Humming rail and synapse,
Wheels spin at the fingertips of maybe
An ineffable humorist,
The mastermind of this beautiful prank
Pocketwatch of silver and gold
That explodes in the hand
And leaves you stranded on the platform
The second you go to check the time.
SmallKid Sep 2019
I remember the first time we met
It is something I will never forget





















you kick my ****....
Sad right?
Debbie Lydon Sep 2019
The ooos and ahhs have hunched my mind,
Crippling my conception of a world undefined,
Wandering alone will tear the fabric of this frail design,
And crucify me upon a truth to which I am aligned.

There's a nuisance and a laughter waiting there, just in front,
When fear approaches it is made humble by humour's brazen affront,
Oh such honesty can only be existing to amuse or to make my edges blunt,
Turn the tables of their titles, I am neither teacher nor student.

Hallowed ground? not at all, it did regenerate its soil,
A ground that knew those ancient footsteps knows no more the walker's toil,
From creation's genius clowning I am so ready to recoil,
But I say face the laughing liturgy, recall the joke that roused your turmoil.

A joke that has remained there, at the core of every tear,
It is quiet, almost inaudible, if you will not hush your brain to hear,
Once discovered, like the sun, it strips the night of all its fear,
And in its wake there is a smile and a wreckage to revere.
My Type Sep 2019
I fear that one day...

ill jokingly say no,

and you'll say...

Ok.
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