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I’ve got plenty of ink, it’s my paper that’s shot
I can only write a few words, that’s all I got
Quick to write, slow to understand
I’ve got a fast mind and a slow hand

I had to scratch out some lines
I was trying to find some rhymes
But now it’s over, I think I’m done
Looks like I penned another one
I've been working on my Poet Lament volumes. This is out of #4. Hope you like it.
When I tell people I’m a poet, I say it’s my hidden talent
I hide my soul, page after page in a poet’s lament
Straight from the heart with passion too
I tell them my words I know are true

If they look closely, they can see me on a line
If they get between the lines, no telling what they’ll find
They might see me crazy, funny or see my depression
They may see that it’s just passive aggression

Sometimes when I share my words with them
They don’t know it’s my way of letting them in
To see me with my passion and heart
To share my pain from the start

I give some away in cheap picture frames
Memories of times, places and names
I hope that they read them with an open mind
I hope it takes them back to times left behind
Another lament. I guess maybe it's 38 more pages to go.
I’ve got a new pad and when I find the time
I’ll find my pen, fill this page with a rhyme
Now I can’t stop, my mind’s running wild
I’ll write every word and copy every file

Wow, this new pad has lots of room
I hope some new words will be coming soon
My mind is alert, write hand is ready
All I have to do is hold her steady

This page is done once I space it all out
I said what I wrote without even a shout
Only 39 more pages on this pad left to go
Until I’m on the cardboard where I write what I know
One of my numerous poet laments.
******* WORDS,
A BUNCH OF ******* WORDS
THAT’S ALL I HAVE LEFT,
A BUNCH OF ******* WORDS

WRITE, ******* WRITE, WRITE,
WRITE SOME ******* WORDS
WRITE, WRITE, WRITE MY ******* WORDS

******* WORDS,
THEY’RE JUST ******* WORDS
WHY EVEN ******* BOTHER
THEY’RE JUST ******* WORDS

******* WORDS IN MY HEAD
******* WORDS ON MY PAGE
******* WORDS,
THEY’RE ONLY ******* WORDS
I guess I was mad at the paper.
𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝.
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙴𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠.
𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠.

𝚄𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎,
𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕, 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔.
𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊  𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝙰 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝙽𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 to 𝚏𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚌,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.
𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔,
𝙰𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎,
𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝.
𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊’𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋e 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒n 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍.
𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚖y 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗,
𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚜.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚟𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚛; 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡,
𝙽𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 lays 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝,
𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗,
𝙸𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜,
𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐s my 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜.

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝?
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
The 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝"
B Reijjj Apr 24
In the third of the night that sent by fate
a fate never meant for me.
As you burn, I freeze,
shrouded in the blizzard of silence,
witnessing your lightning-quick decision.

Makes me stand in the heart of winter,
with void dwelling deep in my senses and breath,
I turn myself into a monument of lament and sorrow,
powerless, violated by the shadow of your touch.

Perhaps I seem calm and unshakable,
but my blood boils, giving birth to a disaster
a tornado of crimson rising in my chest,
spinning without direction, wild and untamed.

If only I had not severed these hands,
for whenever I crave to reach for you,
it would turn me into ruins of darkness,
covered in dust, with shadows nesting in the hollows of my ribcage.

Yet behind it all, a flicker still lingers.
Even if I keep severing my hands,
your warmth, your beauty will always be
the cascade of light I yearn for.
And if I rust away, this monument will stand,
a testament to your grace.
CS Modei Apr 1
“Is that a girl?”
“I must be mistaken”
“His voice is what gives him away.”
“I can see that his stubble is just growing in”
“And his shoulders are broad”
“Keep that **** pervert away.”
Sidenote: I am a black trans girl, things are tough nowadays especially with my identity. Love ya'll!
inkedsolace Mar 23
school is frying my brain,
I can't keep up with the strain,
my neurology is down in the drain,
this workload drives me insane,
my backpack'll lend me a sprain,
and my posture will give me back pain,
these textbooks shall be my bane,
I lament this hail and rain,
of takeout and shirt stains,
of dreary weather, snow and rain,
I feel like I've been hit by a train,
every word I say is incoherent and inane,
so tell me, how do I stay sane?
i love (hate) chemistry
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