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Elo Mar 10
i swore this night would be the last
and as all clocks tick towards finality
enters the approaching doom
jagged shadows—
spiralling notation.
pilose and beckoning,
as the burbling temptation stains
the soft dress of a bantling star

and my limb, verbose, rises
en-pained and un-sought, a mind
which scrapes pigment to tear out
a soul's sliver
of cognition, yet fumbles
and the pattern rests still;
still, only in the eye
my first poem on here! thanks for reading
thepuppeteer Mar 8
I could be so much more
There is a want inside of me
To be so much more
I want to show people
Who I truly am
I want them to understand
The genius inside of me
What you see
Is only a portion of me
Mark Wanless Mar 8
i like this small life
provided by universe
silvervi Mar 7
I've been wasting energy in various ways.
Especially in certain thought patterns and internal fights in my mind.
Very important insight to make a better use of the energy we have. What we focus on matters.
Time doesn’t move slow
If you were a butterfly you’d know
Chase the glow
Inspiration
Gentle melody
Flow
Cognition
Ephemeral beauty
Know
Transient light
Moon lit night
Carry it home
Inside and outside of time
Catching leaves on the wind
As i go
Sacred moments
Hope ergo
The deeper i get
The further i go
Depths unknown
Abyssal inspiration
Like melodies flow
Our days here are limited
By how many we do not know
Unlimited inspiration flows
Depth of mind
Peace in spirit
Lovely soul
Time is an ocean that is free to move upon its own tide
The coming and the going always aligned
Truth without knowing
Reflecting endless skies
—Timothy Charles Carter
John Koroko Mar 4
The anger leaves my body
This feeling is soft
My eyes ***** up and my chest tightens
The base of my throat collapses in on itself
My head is my cave and the blizzard is malicious
Bits of snow fly in and taunt the flames on my fire
Behind my eyes there is water, laughter and a warm hand in mine
The snow moves through the fire and melts
Drops of water dry on the logs
I hope the blizzard stops
Daydreaming and Dissociating

Dissociation is a way of transcending one's own boundaries,

A feeling of weightlessness, of drifting in the viscosity of thoughts,

Daydreaming as a kind of state without space and time,

Lost in a Penrose triangle of emotions or feelings,

Nothing endures there, at the same time everything is there,

Like a library where the books only have empty pages,

A concert without music, without sounds, without lutes,

A meadow where no flowers grow or where flowers will never bloom,

A journey without a destination,

The body and mind reorganise, they change and adapt,

In essence, dissociating is a kind of daydreaming, only much less pleasant,

Daydreaming and dissociating fight for supremacy in me every day.
I was writing this when I was sitting in my favourite coffee store, while drinking a delicious coffee and experienced multiple dissociated moments.
Numb to touch
pressure under my skin.

Electric brush
stroke finely pricked.

Mind of innocence
Petals freshly plucked.

Left to adorn
shrouding my affliction.

Mine to live and lead
As partners pass and fade.
I am not my infection. I am not my illness. Rejection hurts but it's a learning curve.
Lillian Feb 27
I'm enveloped into my mind
This world was never meant for my kind,
So I fade way into pure imagination
Were I'm met by fascination
And I am greeted by my own Validation
My realm is realities Evacuation
Here everything is strange
But I wouldn't exchange
This dream-like place
For the face
Of desperate society
That causes my anxiety
In conclusion
Stay in delusion.
dee Feb 25
There's a blockage in my creativity pipe.
There's some potential I haven't tapped into yet,
I read old pieces and wonder
where is that inspiration?
I'd hate to think it's because I'm over the fact you left.
Why am I only able to create when my heart
doesn't function how it should?
The words are falling out of my head
I wish they would fall onto the page.
I used to be all the 3 "I's" in imagination
Originality ran through my blood
I could mold my pain into something so delicate.
I touched people's soul with a simple sentence.
And now I can't even create something I'm mildly okay with.
There's no endearment to kiss on letters.
Nothing to set my eyes on.
I guess alterations had to be made.
There's a blockage somewhere inside of me.
A change is coming.
This is more than a simple poem.
When you feel this lost, you are bound to find
what your soul is searching for.
everything feels weird, derealization is a understatement.
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