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Yes,
I cut deep enough
to feel alive
But never deep enough
To die
I found my peace, but it was brief,  
I thought it would stay, bring relief.  
Day by day, night by night,  
I suffocate beneath this fright.  

I washed away what left me torn,  
Through my pain, I bore and mourned.  
I’m no player—I’m a victim,  
Yet it still hurts, for I have feelings.  

Through the pain, both flesh and mind,  
I endure, though I’m confined.  
I brush it off until it’s gone,  
Yet scars remain, etched upon.  

I kept it quiet, held it in,  
So no one saw the war within.  
Voices echo, sharp and cruel,  
Scheming shadows, mocking fools.  

I say, "Be silent!"—they only jeer,  
Where did they come from? Why are they here?  
Still, I fight, though I am trying,  
To wear a face that hides the dying.
I opened that notebook again,
After ages I picked my pen.
Pressed strength on my wrist,
Gave my hand a gentle twist.

Scribbling through, I went on
In the world where ink lace spun.
But it was different from what I knew,
This ink was of a different hue.

And I flipped the pages back
A glimpse of me in the ink stained rack
The letters were bolder, deeper even
They held power higher than I now sustain.

And so I closed my notebook again,
It's ink wasn't in my own pen.
And I closed the lid once more
Let it sit where it was, before.
The ink wasn't mine to use,
It wrote a story where I couldn't fuse
Karan May 19
To look upon oneself
And find a citadel of half-wrought
Miseries and wounded passions
Where the birds all wore masks
Of hide and gleaming fixtures

Birds that enter upon a pile
Of stiff and tangled limbs
With heads, mouth open
Groaning cries of
Pain, as their teeth are torn
Collected to create nests
In which those enamel buds
Burst into seamless streams
Of bloodied skin

Curving together, crossing to form
A twisted leather medusa
That blooms rusted buckles
Which glisten in the sky above that citadel
In the place of stars for those citizens
To pray between a leviathan chorus of agony.
neth jones May 19
dismember                        
the jerking flesh of my heart
nervous excrement
the manner your head rattles
when i lunge at you
this room stiffens with ****
                    running our corpses thru the flame
the gummy dark muffle day-to-night            
       pinball wisdom of creatures                    
                                   ­   below the floor
cactus salad
        me you and our malady
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
neth jones May 18
dismember                          
the jamming fight of my breath
your reciting
the wit that exudes you
i hack mad laughs                      
the room becomes rude hot
              and we burst our fleshes
the seasons collect in some deafening syrup
but still the walls are music with vermin
mushroom tea       you and me
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
E May 6
Death Is Essential.
I say this not out of spite or hate
Not out of love or rage
But death is essential.

If there's anything I thank the heavenly beings for, is that we can opt out of life
They say life is a blessing but to me, there's no greater power than having the option to die
To simply stop existing, to simply take away the pain for good.

D.I.E

And they say "no, life is worth living", worth what exactly?
The bills? The politics? The war? The hate? The racism? Terrorism? Religion?
Tell me how much life is truly worth.

D.I.E

All the work, all the joy, all the love, all the pain, all the shame, everything just to end up 6 feet deep in the dirt
Rotten, stinking, forgotten, grieving
So what's life truly worth?
They tell you you're important, that you matter, just to keep you working, just to keep you in the cycle
You work, you love, you reproduce, you keep working, you're in debt, you're in **** then you die, leaving your offspring to continue the cycle, the madness, all alone and the cycle repeats.

D.I.E

Love won't keep alive forever neither will hate neither will money, we shall all see the pearly gates

D.I.E

We will all die at the end, so why am I the bad guy for opting out early?

For taking the "easy way out"

D.I.E.

Death is a blessing

Death is a curse

Death is a burden

Death is joy

Death is freedom

Death is redemption

Death Is Essential.


When my mind began to cloud,
i began thinking out loud.
#Triggerwarning #Readatyourownrisk
Visvod Apr 15
They cut, crush, cauterize or tie off the eyestalk
of female prawns and shrimp
to stimulate faster reproduction
   usually without anesthesia

I often wonder the complexity of pain felt
when they flail about helplessly
disoriented and dissevered

Do they     rejoice?  

For their life has a gained greater purpose.

Or do they mourn what once was?

For the following generations will be disease-prone and decline
and suffer
and decay.

Nothing we haven't already done to ourselves admittedly.
We might actually be the only organisms
unable to cohabitate with each other.

We seek God to fear our actions
that are preached as sins.
It keeps us good and honest
Yet our empires and civilizations repeatedly fall
generation after generation
as power is granted to our rulers that partake in
Eyestalk Ablation.

For we worship them over God himself.
It's a good thing we were getting tired of God anyways.
You learn something horrifying everyday.
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