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Simon Oct 2019
My voice box is without equality. Especially when it’s never designed to structure peace without logic filling in the rumbled gaps. Gaps full of peace and central thoughts mucking up too many interpretations on how to develop the central pieces trying to determine what is, and how it’s done? Voice box being tethered cords situated toward the brain’s primary accuracy, and performance majors. Cords being interpreted by thoughts on a wild whim full of constant nagging! Nagging never determining what thoughts go with who. Trying to write this down is miraculously dissolving. Why is it miraculously dissolving? Because everything isn’t what it seems when cords producing sound, commits before you write even a smidge down on a platform of plot. A platform of plot thoughtless without thoughts. The mouth piece isn’t performing, until those thoughts become presentable to the cords enabling sound. Maximizing the form of words on the platform of plot. Giving credence with peace that invokes time and pressure to a well-suited promise. A promise that infuses the logic of desires prompting fissures of premature sound getting caught up in the words not making sense in its realization. Realizations cut short from thoughts never enabling a sound proof system to its setup. Writing on the platform of plot becomes too justifiable. Yet premature sound interpreting the earlier pattern of your own thoughts taking effect for the very first time. Allowing words to become somewhat presentable in its own claim. Diverse a newly formed respect for your own components charging up the messages received by the cords charging up sound. Voicing opinions and options on the platform of plot. The options also allow one to peek at the hints for the writing on the platform of plot. The opinions however, allow one to judge if it’s what they’ve always wanted to include. If not… Try adding something different for a change. A style of writing which maximizes mouth piece. Will become a trade-off of nonsense giving you piece. Nonsense being the smallest level, which brings all the pressure down to the lowest peak. Settling until one focus is prompted by another focus and so on. Charging up, until every piece of information is well suited for either filtering out. Or correcting itself through thoughts filtering it out. Finalizing the standards onto the platform of plot. Revolutionizing a newer perception for thought versus focus. What happened before the lowest peak circulated the settlement period before activation? Easy. Sifting through all what could have been? And how it could have been done? Now think for a strict moment, before giving me your newly respectable answer?
Voice boxes are treasure troves full of binary language of there own. Words funded by the cords connected by the brains senses to interpret proudly. What is your language? And how does one write that language down?
Raquel Dionísio Sep 2019
Maybe your tongue could be my own
Maybe your teeth are the mirror I’ve been fearing this whole time
Maybe your mouth is where I want to hide forever
Or maybe I want to be trapped within your mind

Maybe I want to see you from the inside
Not hearing what you have to say
But really see you from the inside
In a Jonah sort of way

Maybe I want mine to be your body
Incessant movement where one cannot tell
Where you begin and where I end

Maybe I don’t want it to ever end
Maybe it scares me if it never ends
Will it never end? Or more importantly, will it even start?
B D Caissie Aug 2019
With each day I tread carefully and each day my foot winds up in my mouth...
Madison Greene Aug 2019
you can taste the pain I swallowed on the roof of my mouth
I remember the night covering us like a blanket
and the sun shining light to all of our mistakes
I remember your shirt hanging off my shoulder
and the way it looked on another naive stranger, she wore it well
I remember the scent it carried, the scent of you and me
who am I without this longing that wears the shape of you?
c Aug 2019
You make me afraid to say no
By putting words in my mouth
That don’t belong
Until I’m choking
On the words
You want to hear
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
Lip Dip Paint
One Two
Lip Dip Pain
Three Four
Lip Dip Pai
Five Six
Lip Dip Pa
Seven Eight
Lip Dip P
Nine Ten
Lip Di
Eleven Twelve

Necrosis of the teeth
the bone becomes brittle
limping with sore feet
the jaw shatters
sores line the throat
mouth only of gums
blood starts to flow
only holes left to tongue
red seeps out the mouth
doctors say this must be syphilis
Oh God, it hurts
to work for greed so villainous

Lip D
One Two
Lip
Three Four
Li
Five Six
L
Seven Eight

Nine Ten

Another girl in the ground again

Eleven Twelve

It's safe, don't you want to
radiate?
Anastasia Jul 2019
my heart is alive
it's hurting so very sweetly
with the taste of you

how lovely it burns
I miss the taste of your mouth
while the day goes by

sharpie on my skin
i want to write my words on
your flesh so gently

i can try harder
but words don't do you justice
I wish you were mine
MisfitOfSociety Jul 2019
An old horse smiles behind my mouth.
Scars of time hang from its gums.
Physical renditions of the ticking hand,
Going around the sun,
Beating down,
Weighing down.
Anika Nelson Jun 2019
I wonder what would happen if I called you...
I wonder what you're doing;
I wonder if you've even thought of me recently;
I wonder if you've found someone new;
I wonder how your family is;
I wonder if our love has been completely forgotten;
I wonder what would happen if I called you...
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