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Jeremy Betts Aug 15
Deathly allergic to life itself oddly
Takes roughly 90 years to die from it if you're lucky
But you see, luck doesn't know me
So we'll see how far I get past 40

©2024
Styles May 28
I felt;
you were more than just a fling, but then
you flung me away,
like I was nothing.

I was to you,
as you were to me.

Empty.
Jeremy Betts May 6
Throw your stones at me
Those of you who've never sinned
My past a bit hazy
I don't know where I begin
You think I could get lucky?
And one day catch an elusive win
Something worth sharing with a loved one or a friend
Forget the knowledge that hindsight's 20/20
Didn't know I'd have no one in the end,
Not even one that's pretend
Hopefully I can find a sticky type of happy
But until then
I'm just a phony
Chasing leafs in the wind

©2024
Pax Apr 20
Sins, bites on your conscience
          never to your convenience.
       No salvation, No revelations.
               Unblessed the lucky
       bottomless becomes your destiny
and darkness laments, it’s quite cloudy
     wavy timelines, weary crimes
                   Brooking our doom
                  creating thy tomb
                   as deaths looms.
this was me playing with words. Yet as always there is hidden truth and meaning behind my play. I guess this is me cursing to those who are lucky enough to have sinned and get away with it. As in every truth, sins is also subjective to survival, so we should be careful who to blame.
SANA Apr 16
lost count on
how many times i have wished for
"a little less pain "
in this life
A M Ryder Apr 15
We are going
To die and
That makes us
The lucky ones

In the teeth
Of these
Stupefying
Odds, it is
You and I
In our
Ordinariness
That are here

The needle won't
Reach the record
And that's ok
We reach for
What to say
As the silence
Grows too strong
Yet nothing ever
Remains within
Forever is
Far too long
selina Feb 28
my mom called, i cried by the dhall, on facetime
been thinking about how lucky we are to be alive
even if to deal with mornings and swollen eyes
even if dad's always on the night shift, even with
this big rift caused by the distance and the lack of time
just because we made out once doesn't mean you're mine
i got glimpses of a pink top, my blanket of a jacket
i bet it would look classier if you were wearing it
but you're distant and cold and partying is getting old
i'm forever out of polaroid film and cheap distractions
so i took an amtrak home, straight from south station
the flight back to boston was short but still exhausting
and when i walk home alone, the silence is unsettling
seems we're both better than i thought at method acting
so much happened in this short time
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
What. Just. Happened?
I'm still here, in the throes of terror, probably forever, but that was close
I don't know how many more of those devastating blows from life's twisted episodes I can take before I get exposed and everybody knows that this smile's a fake, adorned like over warn costumes on Broadway shows
A mangled backdrop set prop to keep from view that I got behind the scenes woes
With each smile the lie grows
Gotta live with this Pinocchio nose
Black out curtains dress the windows so the only parts of me I expose are silhouette shadows
Like house siding, I stack the facade till a barrier grows
It adds curb appeal and social value I suppose
But for me it's a false face to hide the lows
Getting me through this reality that blows
A life time of running into doors with a sign reading "sorry we're closed"
Hanging next to the mandatory posted notice of demolition proposed
Life's ultimate plan to bulldoze any happy settlement till all that's left are foreclosed burrows
Unwelcoming ghettoes
A real to life Gotham City narrows
Every one knows **** flows down stream and my life's the delta where it all goes
Rainbows triggering everyday psychos
Sorrows flicker by like sickening slideshows
Arms and legs strewn all around, some separated from torsos
From heros to zeros, no back again as I decompose into the shallows

It's basically not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's your own psyche it's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Beging to be set free but this inescapable captivity is your eternity
So wait, is this outcome then a certainty?
A destiny unremarkably average and already planned out for me?
It certainly seems to be
Especially now that I see clearly that comedy lies within my tragedy
But only because hindsight is 20/20
In the moment nothing's funny
A well lit path is not part of my journey
Mines a lifetime walked through a dark ally
The thoughts that emerge from the shadows come in a hurry, a savage flurry of the eire
Physically consumed with how badly this could turn out for me
Any second I could come face to face with an enemy sent by a deity with the soul purpose to immediately end this agony but I can guarantee I'm not that lucky

It's a shame this evil never left after it came
The residual, dry back shot residue stain and remain after every time I'm ******, but those rinse off in the rain that came all the same
Causing me to claim I'll never see life the same
Now docile and tame, a king slain by his own sword, self inflicted pain
My shelf life would be considered inhumane
A body originally set to be a temple now unlivable domain
Why is it the opposite I hear 'em saying when it comes to the brain of the insane?
What I can't figure out is what's there to gain keeping me here on this plane?
An existence broken and lame, no highs, no fame
No title bout, no championship game
I'd like to say it's done in vain but the fact is maybe this is where I'VE chosen to remain
But if there is no one to blame, to frame, to claim did this to me then the chain that holds me here I should be able to explain away so I don't know how to explain why I stay

And I always find myself stubbornly staying in this mindset like I'm developing the onset of stalk home syndrome
Eventually the environment seems normal but it's a Truman show dome
Entertainment at the expense of a grown man condoned
And the freedom shown is an illusion cause there's only so far you are able to rome
It never occurred to me that it was strange to be in this place alone
At first, while trying to escape, I wore my finger tips to the bone
But now I've got it so bad that I call this catacomb home
No land line phone, no WiFi hotspot zone
Cut off from the outside inside this prison of skull and bone
It's getting harder to tell as the problems begin to become overgrown
My flaws are blown out of proportion as they engulf my preset headstone
It seems so obvious that I shouldn't be here, I deserve a permanent place in a corner alone with a dunce cap cone or next to the rest labeled drone.
And I'm pretty sure I've waited to long to atone so the best I can hope for now are some ruby slippers or the larger piece of the wishbone

©2018
Man Jul 2023
Continuity and infinity,
Why they have to be
Is beyond me.
The end of all things, I
Wish I were lucky enough to see.
But more than that,
I wish I were free.
She's so lucky
Because you never judge her.
She's so lucky
Because you care for her.
She's so lucky
Because you never forget her birthday.
She's so lucky
Because she's wearing your hoodie.
She's so lucky
Because she can give you flowers.
She's so lucky
Because you've kissed her.
She's so lucky
Because you love her.
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