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quiet in body
never felt
connection in reflection
never seen
harmony in surface and mind
never realized.

what is real? I cannot see, neither feel.
what I see, likewise feel —is not real?

back against the wall, cracked.

a chorus of blood
chants incessantly under skin
in the tunnels of my wrists
a buzzing
I am encased in this unsound flesh of sin, crawling
fingers of insanity
all I can do is destroy (myself)
the ritualistic obsession
the control seduction
compulsively constructing my own deconstruction
a dance —just enough to relive pain in living
sweating and dizzy in exhaustible effort I am, lost
in the hunt
to conquer my body like a continent
assimilation with a world where  
all flesh is but wax and tactless camouflage  
painted cheeks fall like petals  
hair like wheat severs from heads
and bones rust like guns that drain away blood—

my brain collapses inwards.

I strive towards completion but in reaching it find
I am already dead.
Desire Dec 2019
She’s a lost soul
Encrypted in kryptonite
Society never failed to lie to her
She was born perfect
But the world just didn’t see it
So day by day
Society would wash the real her away
And the tragedy was
Society’s lost soul was itself
In depth in destruction and insecurity
Society killed itself
For everyone knew
Society was just a bluff
This world I live in tends to focus on others and their thoughts. It has people like me feeling more lonely than ever, this poem was meant to show the real problem is society and the insecurities it holds but reflects onto others. Everyone is perfect, and society is just a bluff.
About the night, the hungry bellow—calls
resurrecting at the drunk of dim
where laden limbs curl
up in moonlight breath.

Growing closer, louder! I hear it
moan out, pulsing in my head.

Entranced, I follow.

Among silver rock, a well-like hole
******* deep in the ground, pulls —
me to its edge.
My gaze trips

hallow's insatiable desire

To fill, to fix,
to feed, to find
the focus of my mind!

More, more!
I filled, I fixed,
I fed, I found.

The more I filled, I fixed
The more I fed, I found
the emptier it became.
I became.

The hungry bellow swallowed
all, and soon it swallowed
Perdue Poems Jul 2019
I curse the mind's divine plan
as I lay in valley's low
gazing upon myself a god
and a perfect smile aglow

whilst I toil in my misery
my soul tied with stones
my statue's likeness stands above
revolted at his lesser clone

Look at how he humbly gloats
His skin golden perfection
A mind more clear than unstained glass
A body crafted in circumspection

but though I pull my nails
with a revised renewed edition
with every labored detail
capturing perfection

this tortuous image
calms my heart
stabbing it with hope
for a better start

and I hear whispers in my valley
selling nectars of complacency
spinning truths from fantasy
of how I too one day may be

but as my hands try to summit
the hill soars ever higher
and my mind it pities me below
Remaining on my pyre

and my blood steams
and irrational rashes grow
as I come to realize
I'll forever remain below
Empire May 2019
I disappointed myself today
Not that it probably would have mattered
Because sometimes I'm just sad
And today is one of those days
So, I'm going to sit.
On my couch.
In sweats.
Eating chips.
Watching TV.
Writing poetry.
Until it stops hurting.
Or until I'm interrupted, whichever comes first.
Empire Apr 2019
I never fail
You didn't teach me how
You taught me to be perfect
Or else you'd be
You told me you were perfect
And always right
Not through your words
But through the anthem of your actions
You held me to standards
I would never reach
And it tore me apart
Because I didn't understand
How wrong you were
How many lies you told
I looked up to you
I took your word as gospel
And my gospel betrayed me
I'm not sure what I am any more...
but I know I don't believe in you.
Ditte Jakobsen Mar 2019
a disease
it eats me up
and makes me bleed
internally my mind is on repeat
from top to toe to inside my soul
my body aches, I want
to scream, cause
it eats me up
Empire Mar 2019
I’ve always hated
That I wasn’t perfect
I writhed in agony
Hating myself for what I am

My family wasn’t perfect
My friends weren’t perfect
I wasn’t perfect
Nothing was perfect

But constantly I was confronted
With this image
This abstract concept
Of what I was supposed to be
And it was always
A model of perfection
The perfect life
The perfect lie
And I believed it

They always had good intentions
To give me my “best life”
But no one lives like that
We have so many flaws
Our best life cannot be
A perfect life
But no one told me

They made it look
Like they all could do it
But all I was seeing
Were masks and games
To hide their imperfection
So I learned to hide mine
Behind smiles and niceties

But all the while
I was dying
From the
Lies of perfection
annh Apr 2019
Don’t try to count the stars,
Or measure the distance between now and when;
Leave room for the unknown.
‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.’
- Vincent Van Gogh
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