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Ken Pepiton Jul 29
In 2021, hilite and ask, what is this,
oder vvas ist das? no punctual tone-ing

what is always the initial query re
hyphen al
izing itself being victim of the food,
yes, the bread and the wine,
same yeast,
we guest,
wrong, only one other choice.

Start at the line, drawn in the sand,
after this, we never flow that way
again, the gain grows to a Mt Hermomic pitch,
the jordan breaks from the plain
as the settling begins,
and the zone of formative matter is passed.

Soft as lizard belly skin, sweet as horned toad spit,
squirt, think again, how we catch flies.
And ants,
of course, notify the queen we say, thus far,
and death is certain,
do not pass this corpses final safe perimeter--

measure your will to mine,
if, and I know it is, read reads the same
do and done,
it's mental signs we agree effect time taken
to use as a sign farther in the future than a nihilist can think,
ya gotta trust some-

communication system set to frame one state of mind

"to share, divide out;
impart, I
participate in,"
literally "to make common," {you know, or wish}

From <>

As ra el and re el, met to be tested by the balm,
rubbed on to the left palm,

where the marble universe was rolled up,
in the June/July rants locked in Microsoft
deduncededucing what if we own their data,
then we own them, right?

And we did agree, all the data, meta and all, is ours,
for giving wizards room to render reason rations,
the idea involved enveloping

an ex - out, right, examined, amino, as in acid, right?
life>lived belived postbeguilement
literally virtual, vicarious,
Basically, but a touch off. The colors of psi-sci-psy
weave a virtually unbreakable, but
and one but begins
but three start en ginious invention
a mental fist,
to hold the wind at thought speed,
any scale

virtual reality is subject to solar flares, and errant
-take the pose,
Good day to be reminded I am the hermit, with gigabit internet, and curious grandchildren.
lillie Jan 15
you lurk within
and stay between
the things
that i say
and even
the things
that i do.

you show up
i hold my standards
way too high
for others
yet give excuses
for when i
fail in the eyes
of the world.

you say that
you protect me
from the dangers,
but i say
that you're a child
who has been hurt
over and over
that you have
built walls
and a throne
that is false.

the darkness
is what we humans
tend to fear,
yet it an aspect
that lies within
every each and one
of us,
for we are all
souls craving
everything material
but nothing
"shadow work is the path of the heart warrior." - carl jung

Lines border my eyes like new roads
to more distinguishing characteristics,
signifying for me many a morning frown.

I draw my face closer to the mirror to
examine them in more detail, mapping
pending destinies laid fresh like asphalt.

Traces of purple fans out from the exterior
corners, I think of them as ink spatter that
gets larger every time I endorse

a small check.

I cannot stop the runs but I can
hide the evidence with concealer
creams and foundation,

establishing a façade upon which
the viewer will find as pleasant
from just the right                          

I stand back just so approximately
from the mirror to admire
an illusion of youth,

and then move forward once more
to fathom the texture
of experience—

"Maybe less this time" I think,
have I not earned the right ?

s jones

10 Jan 2021
your sickness
is my disease

your sickness
is the same as mine

your sickness
is hurting others

and only thinking of yourself

you don't see




causes you to hurt me

your hate of self
is the disease that plagues humanity
if I don't stop hating myself
I will continue to hurt you
who wants to go first
right now I'm happy to be alone
with the shower water
Quill Apr 2020
There are moments where I am painfully aware of my existence.

Of the things around me.

I start to feel like I'm floating.

I'm suddenly very aware of the tiny screen I'm holding, how my fingers move across the keys, how small it is and how tiny I am.

It's dizzying.
sometimes i feel as though im floating in my own body, everything drowns out and I'm stuck in the limbo of unreality
its a nice place, for a while
Hannah Feb 2020
One time my mother told me she hated my hair
She never actually said those words but it was in her stare
Another time she told me that my piercings reek of dispair
She didn't say it
But I felt it in the air

Then I realized that these feelings were false
projected thoughts
Onto a mom
Who felt nothing but love and empathy
For her self hating child
Jae Gallagher Jan 2020
afraid to speak my mind.
Afraid to tell you the truth in fear of you getting defensive and rude.
So I let you trample over me with your gas lighting and ****** words, I start to believe what your saying even though I know its lies. Your always right and i'm wrong, so how could I know right from wrong?
Oh, that's right! I've been telling myself the truth, while you've been living in denial your whole life. But, I'm just a silly little kid.
All that matters is your feelings, never mine. The last thing you called me still rings in my ears "Abusive", "Toxic", "Narcissistic"..... I never once told you any of the rude things I wanted to call you, because you already knew what you are. Look in the mirror and repeat those same words to yourself they suit you better.
I know i'm none of those mother.
My psychic energies are energized , warm, and strong

Signaling waves of physical feeling, warmth of a beating heart felt, and ****** moves exchanged.

Though miles apart, we are physically and in soul, together.Real.

Our blood flows through our veins and we appear to each other as our bodies sweat and touch is fused and cannot be changed.

The lightening sounds as we make love over waves so real

Sensual rhythms so bold and understandably near

we fuse together.

Real love and the desire for one another satisfied

as the remote seduction pleasurably brings our bodies to wet and desired ******


We long for our lives to become just as fused as our psychic bodies..

we know the attraction is here…

we both ****** under a huge yellow moon….

as destiny dictates the night of lust and also deep love

between two people from two far away places

Sweat draws full and near…

Our hearts begin to swoon….

as we celebrate our need and wanting for one another

in pure exotic form..

we are now physically and soulfully an art-form alike no other..

The ritual of the senses is a fire that rages on..

Until we return to our originating soul’s taken up places….

We know we never need to feel alone or deep in separation from our bodies..souls…and love..

For we can fly, at will, remotely to greet one another as our eyes


as we enjoy admiring one another’s beauty and faces.
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