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Bullet 1d

How are These
Rainy Days
Counting Down
My Odds
Are One to Five

|            |           |
- • -       - • -     - • -
  |           |           |

I'm Looking
For Solar Rays
But My Heart
Didn't Take the

§        §

A Superman
Signal Wouldn't
Save My Second Chance
How I Feel Love will be my kryptonite
But Lois Lane can Appear with Beautiful Eyes
N' These Solar Rays Lay but I can still sit in the Shade
I Want to be the One
But Two can Better Five

||||| ∞ |•|

I"m Talking to Infinity
Her Vessel Stone Glows Brightly
Cuz Six Doesn't Want To Fight me
2 Billiard  
Blue Tint in the Night Fall
I Just Need My Cue for
A Pocket Full Light
Letting go of Love
Just to Defeat Who  
Cuz Beating Five
Just Ends You Up With a Bunch of

Looking for solar rays on these bad days. Love isn't meant for you when the numbers don't add up right. I think the cold makes me depress.
Elizabeth Sep 20
I've never understood why people like noise
And call it a living spirit of crowds
Middle school bands when teachers leave
A gossiping friend, voice carrying through breeze
Mercia Sep 15
That's how her life is.
She spoke with confidence yet
She walked in peoples shadows.
She walked with her head high only in heels.
She collects sneakers.
Her body is made from comments
Her mind slowly died from truth
Lies killed her smile.
The hate she carried was a feather
Her laugh was fake
Her happiness, nonexistent.
That's how her life is..
Ninté Sep 12
yes, indeed  
I know what I need  
not belief alone  
I have planted the seed  

yes, indeed  
I know why I bleed  
not for joy alone  
but for the war ahead
Rick Adams Jul 31
twin brothers were out
celebrating their 40th birthday.
to their left
there were babies and toddlers in strollers.
to their right
there were elderly people in wheelchairs.
when the brothers were leaving
they turned out of the parking lot
onto a three-lane highway.
they were in the middle of the road.
April Hapner Jul 19
I lay here watching
Which layers are spinning...
And what direction?
My mind dissects the clouds
Like a fog being burned by sunlight...
During the late morning.

This pattern above me
Rather pleasing... yet confusing...
I'm on the right,
I find it yielding left...

There's designs I can't name
Animals I can make...
Yet they all run away as I move
And the clouds spin trails...
Watching them evolve
Like a lifelong time lapse.

The drawn up moisture....
The streams of steam condensed...
Swirled and forged into cotton-like pillows of uncertainty.
The colors are the Indicators of moods
The light and mysterious
White and normal
Green and envious of the oncoming destruction
Black and gray depicting ends of sunshine filled days...

The life underneath grows, quivers, and in series of decays...
Some offer condensed clouds as flavored swirls in mugs...
But I rather watch the ones that love
Carrying wind and rain...
Have swirls of their own and a Name.

Though subject of objections
The will of nature has a forge...
To churn this stream of water around
Like spun sugars of cotton candy.
Much like a carnival, life is a surprise
An unyielding wild ride.

Directions are unclear
If i will be here
I have watched the life of
The swirl in this giant mug
Smack the coastlines with giant hugs...
Some rough love...

Though oddity
Have you seen what clouds can do
When spun around oak trees?
I am a Hurricane Hugo [1989] survivor.
I enjoy weather and thunderstorms.
Once I dreamt of being a meteorologist.
There used to be a 100 year old oak tree outside my bedroom window. During the eye of the storm we notice the tree was turned. In fact you could see the disruption in the earth... as roots were twisted around and almost braided. The tree was uprooted and twisted like a tick... And survived for years after that storm. By far... the most interesting tree story I have.
Please do not shut down the system before writing is complete.
Madder than a hatter,
Crazy like a coot.
Venom of the adders,
But lucky like a hoof.

Graphic with his grammar,
Devilish charming in a suit.
Heart of artic winter,
Cut throat eyes of solem truth.

I guess I'm odd like socks,
Bellybuttons and numbers.
Biting legs of frogs,
Or frying up some fungus.

Indeed I'm normal as a flying pig,
Playing a golden trumpet.
I'm strange I'm weird I'm odd I know,
But f%k it I don't care.
I'd rather that than be the same as every c
%t out there.
L Jul 6
**** you. Establishing a fake, quick-and-easy false sense of connection, closeness, & intimacy. (Who can so easily share such a dark and painful secret. And all the while proceed to practically skip away like some whimsical creature in which you are.)
Take my breath as I see yours also being expelled from your lungs. (Why is it such the effect you have on me and why, oh, why can i so clearly see it on you as well?)
Lord bless me in spite of these impure thoughts & urges within me, as I glance no more than a few half seconds, for it is all my heart can take. (Oh the things i would do to you. Oh the things i would let you do to me)
Awoke to a carbon monoxide shotgun and a pyrex *** of Folgers, blackhole brain in a hammock, padlocked composure, the Hancock is soaking in a glassful of holy water diluted with ayahuasca, beached by a wave of sofas with black mold in the nostril, concealing contraband esoterica in a gospel, the bedroom is an iron maiden, lost in a mental ghetto donning pyramids, bodhisattvas with amnesia and muted prophets, these psychic vampires are stalking a house of mirrors, it’s Barbie with a voodoo doll collection, Nostradamus and Moth Man betting on four horses, glued to a tube that vomits pixels into the irises of shapeshifters with facelifts and robots with botox shots, thoughts are a virus, energy is contagious, as neurosis is self hypnosis, this life is a comatose daydream, as I drearily row a tugboat down a conscious stream
Hypomania at 3:33 AM
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