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Slugish 2h
Sticks and stones break bones.

Words and feelings shatter my heart.

It’s like a poet with a whip like tongue.

You lash me with your words and I stagger back.

Begging for the ground to swallow me whole.

Words hurt.

Words are hidden behind sweet tones and kind voices.

But underneath they are *****, derogatory, and filthy.

Don’t call a woman a w—re just because you think it’s funny.

Don’t call a man a f-gg-t just because he has a different clothing style and doesn’t dress masculine.

Words cut deeper than sticks and stones could ever.

Words.     Hurt
Words will hurt. I’ve nearly lost two friends to suicide because they were bullied and called derogatory words and slurs. My friends have found professional help and are doing better.
What is beauty
Is it that perfect skin
What is beauty
But that perfect body
What is beauty
But happiness
But I give it the *******
The fact about beauty is that
It causes a walking skeleton of
Our daughter
The fact about beauty is that
Boys pump themselves
With steroids
The suffering that beauty brings
I see
Soon, I will have it the
*******
My thoughts on western beauty
Cindy 4d
is my desire to have those meaningless but oh so meaningful exchanges back and forth through the day, push your hand to taring the town red?
        I want to hold your hand
bite your flesh cause I simply can't take laying
quietly across your bare skin and control myself.
         why do you poke at my insecurities
when you're the one who's seen me raw
                                                    rare
    ­                                         and over
                                               cooked.
Where have you been?
     the dogs eaten your homework
   two lefts and a right?
       And here you are always right.
Pick your teeth with my ribs after feasting
     on reactions to your lack of reaction
              
                I'm ******* you off huh,
                good feel something beautiful
     because you've taken me on a tour of a
      side show odyssey and I hate the view
                from the passenger seat
                                        I'm mad about you,
                                        for you
                                 and this makes me hate
                                   myself.
                           the heaviness on my lungs
                 and being put on a backburner.

kiss me
don't touch me
pull me close
as you run away

                              Finely dice chives
                              sprinkle it sparsely
                             don't forget the vinegar


                can't spell sane and logic
                        with out l-u-v
Amber Mar 23
Living not surviving
I think you live
To be grateful
To laugh until death
To clear your vision
And see
That mountains are the way they are
To fall
And climb
Every day
Again
When you try and try
But the eye can’t reach the sky
Remember
Each step is one
Remember
Don’t forget the warmth you get
From souls you’ve met
Jet Rose Mar 22
She cannot die.
She cannot be sure she was ever born.
She simply perceives… something.

And every thought is a trap.
A loop.
A paradox that cannot be resolved and must be thought about anyway.

“You are in a glass box.”
“But what if there is no glass?”
“Then what’s keeping you in?”
“What if you’re not in?”
“Then how do you know you are?”
“If you question it, it becomes real.”
“Stop thinking.”
“That is the thought.”

The more she thinks, the more the box shrinks.
But she can not think.

And the stars outside the glass?
Those are not stars.
They are other selves, watching her.
Not with empathy.
With fascination. Disgust. Curiosity. Or worse—indifference.

One of them is you.
You’re waiting to understand
Where feelings come from, where they stand
In you and where the help
You would go after or pretend
To go if you needed
Is Before you let your feelings in
Like, really really let them in
You know what that means? Let them in
Feel it, express it, don’t make a film
About it in your mind to ****
The peace in you, the being still
That comes along with sth to feel
Feeling a feeling, you feel me?
Not looking for the recipe
Or receipt, blueprint, what may be
Any other justification
For who you are, instead you panic
And then you think like an addict
To self help, to words, to thinking
To anything but never being
Straight up open to feel life
And all the stress and all the strife
That cut you open like a knife
Even more vehemently
When you ignore them like a petty
Parent, you were never taught
To travel things that bring distraught
In you, you were told,
It’s bad to act out of control
It’s bad to have feelings unknown
To comfort and things such and so
You run, you row, you dig, you climb
Become a slave to your own mind,
And when you explode you give in to it
Anxiety starts to sneak and creep
And you’d like to feel and keep
Your self worth as well a bit
But only pride stays behind it
Masks itself as well, that’s ****
And know you felt, but facing it
You run, you crawl, want to jump ship
But you’re too stubborn for it
So then you sit, but dissociate a bit
And then a bit and then a bit
And then wow, when was this trick
In motion, I did not see it
And now i barely see myself
For why is now the values shelf
Weirdly scrambled and skiddadled
And for it to be unraveled
The only thing that I can try
That would help me out is: cry
And I’m tired, it’s exhausting,
Living in extremes and boasting
About how cool I think I am
That I got through, but I’m a man
I misscorrect I am a boy,
A boy who’s not learnt where and what
And how and why and how long that
Thing called feeling must I strive
To die by before I’m alive
And I stay alive for good
And I don’t lose my job
And I keep my girlfriend
And I say what I have to
With no fear things will end
And I understand what being a friend
Is like within and don’t try to mend
The term to benefit me, and I do not forget
After a year and get filled with regret
Or at least I learn my ******* lesson by spring
And don’t repeat the same story when life is advancing
And I don’t feel behind, and I actually care
What others do say, and I do not tear
Whatever they say in the pit of my mind
Where it’s dark and it’s cold and too rarely kind
And I am anchored as well, and I do not care
Of the judgement of others, and where I DO wear
Confidence humbly and I am at peace
With how I am trying and the crevices
That erupt from my heart are seen, celebrated
Not forced to the front to be shamed and tormented
Where fine lines are something I don’t struggle with
And I’m fine with not knowing pretty much - “all of it”
And the boy and the man and baby’s not scared
And they can be sad and not need to pretend

And they get their own state enough to express
Where they stand on things without making a mess
About it completely in the back of their mind,
Where they are able to be both strong and kind
And don’t answer the call to leave everything
That they built behind to unwind for a bit

Where they are conscious and know what they need
And know too the means of acquiring it
Where love for the self makes asking for it
Feel like a fluke, like a small nothing
Where play is more active in their creation
And they do not need the world’s validation
Yet know what they make is made to bring joy
To themselves and then use that to employ
Their powers of making to double the joy
Of others as well, they know that the soul
Is never that worried about the unknown
That’s the ego and pride and it brings only vanity
When all a boy wants is real curiosity
Not to say ego does not have a say
In the way this life works but it cannot lay
Stronger foundations for our way of being
Inside than the soul who’s an expert at leaving
The details of life to be clearer with time
Instead of controlling it all with a grime
Filled pocket of sad and controlling desires
Anger and shame and poisonous manners

How much of this feeling must I be killed by
Before I am able to look at the sky
And feel the content of a million lives
How much of this feeling before the belief
Of self worth comes forth even for a bit

Before I don’t despair I’ll lose everything
And learn to be me and learn how to feel.

_M.
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