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Sonorant Jan 23
She is the artic of midsummer
Who feeds on the way you burn
For her.
neth jones Nov 2021
is it love
or the parasite ?

my pilot bulk                      
aims for relief
       it pursues this via                  
          your romantic correction

in public arena                  
a library stair                    
(i never prior encountered you)

one step as foreigner        
the approach
and upon a swift internal pendulum
i make witless incisions
hurried mended sentences
directed stuns
i demand the compromise
                  of your company
hastily push at boundaries and
you're not so accommodating

on a further occasion
same building
we exchange a battering of conversation
           into barter-like use of language

despite my harassments
  a civil cultivation is unearthed
tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen
loosen my demanding appearance
disregard my dignity
     a skin suit about the ankles

you're open in a vein of similarity
   you flesh out your own controls
we've progressed quickly
there's an aped conduct
                 and flashing attitudes
this time we share table space
a nearby café

we have become quite unmanned
    repeated meet ups
upon humours we adjust small habits
    and shake on perceptions where we overlap
it becomes
   more an overlay of rationalities
        than resented promises

fast time passes and

i move into your living space                                  
i pick a wildflower                                                    
               and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table
we agree on its colour                                              
we agree on a book to make our bible material
we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share
the clothes i am to wear
i switch to your diet
and you cease taking medications
we sleep on your lawn like children
and bring down the night sky for comfort

during the day we wear our sleep
              like a lubrication for our chores
and go about our productivity
              in genuine partnership
i feel we're just out of reach
            of some dark harm

we are an excellent sample pair
it is all vital
we grow stronger the more we quiz it
recycling our *******
refine our agreements
await further impulses
and come closer to plug

do we please love
      or simply indulge a parasite ?
George Krokos Apr 2021
Corona virus
versus human parasite
either side may win
Written in 2020.
Leah Carr Nov 2020
Mental illness a parasite
It's hard to spot
Even harder to treat
And many don't believe in it's existence
Purely because they cannot see it
It gnaws away at everything good inside you
And leading you - if untreated - towards an inevitable death
It's impossible to see
But slowly
Very, very slowly
You can start to see it's effects when you look at the victim
Little by little
You begin to notice the damage
And no matter how much good you put into the person
The selfish thief of the parasite steals it away
Before the person gets the chance to use it
Mental illness is a parasite
It's painful,
and scary.
So so so scary.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Born 30 days apart in the early 90's,
musical fan and blue dragon holder,
you fought parental disapproval to
fulfill your dreams on the big-screen.

South Korea to renowned global acclaim,
Jessica's Jingle infected Western culture.
And yet your name remains underground
in towns and cities throughout this land.

Park So-dam. I write as my ink dries up and
the world scratches my head with a coin.
If I ever escape the fate of my own family,
I'll start a fan club for you in Chicago, Illinois.
Poem #18 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'.
HYA Jul 2020
i have a devil on my shoulder
it speaks to me when i sigh;
when i follow his orders, he grows heavier
my sight, which was once bright, is now darker

he, the weight upon my shoulder,
pushes me down when i try to fly
quite selfish, isn't he?
he has his wings, but still on my shoulder

he whispers rumors he hears from a far
and giggles when i listen to him
he sure is heavy on my shoulder
when would he ever fly away?

he has the space on my shoulder, yes
but at times, i feel him somewhere else too
he holds territory on my shoulder
but also on my mouth, my hands, my eyes, my ears, and my feet

i thought he is only on my shoulder, parasiting me
now, he holds me wholly and stops me from moving
he slowly takes over and control my body
when did i get this devil on my shoulder?
Bea Burnett May 2020
I can't shake the feeling,
The feeling of submission in my own body.
A creature has slipped through the cracks when at my weakest,
It's burrowed under my skin
Latched to my core.
You can find it:
Buried in my flesh, eating at me.
I feel it.
Swimming through my bloodstream, pumping poison.
I hear it.
Crawling in my thoughts.
Drinking my joy, spitting melancholy
my vision is dark, Shrouded in misery.
have you ever felt unsettled,
alone in the dark, but not quite.
Personifying depression as a parasitical creature.
Keith Strand May 2020
A creeping black
destroys me from within

I'll never go back
to our wandering sin

You command me
to destroy it all

I'll always see
the result of your call

In my corner I suffer
with the coroner I'll rot
Echinococcus Granulosus is a parasite that leaves hytadid cysts (potentially the size of grapefruits) throughout the body. It is definitely worth a quick bit of research.


Mandi Wolfe Dec 2019
The shallow words you offer now
will never begin
to fill the deep chasms
you've eroded into me.
My person.
Into the heart, soul, bones, brain, sinew of
When we were still new
you had already begun
to chip away at
But you said
with each raise of your maul
“I love you
and I would never
do anything to hurt
No one
but NO ONE
had ever loved
I opened myself wide
and you crawled inside
to make yourself a home in
I was empty before then
and still I am empty.
According to Bukowski
I should have let you ****
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