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Jeremy Betts Mar 16
Hey you there

It's not just me in here
Oh how I wish you could hear the coconspirator
Or see in a single tear how loud the fear of fear truly can be
And how I'm so rarely allowed to steer

I AM a dark passenger, MY dark passenger
A near prison like constricting atmosphere with no breathing apparatus gear
Life can be so impossibly cavalier
Death is always closer than it should ever appear, regardless of the mirror

In my story I have the glory of a lone fourth musketeer
With a crowded asylum between each ear
So many questions but not a single agreed upon answer will appear
And I've yet to meet this so called infallible puppeteer

Though the hierarchy is clear, it passes through an auctioneer
"Punish thee if thy finds I should ever veer from thy holy 'engineer'"
Hell, they can stay put like a headlight frozen deer
I'd rather be allowed to be the one to disappear

I did not ask to be here

©2025
Mina Mar 16
It felt like a bus hit me
A venomous snake bit me
Marching venom in my body's warfare
I felt betrayed and weak
Couldn't let out but a silent squeak
My eyes widened with doubt
My brain couldn't find a way out
"Is this real?!" Again and again
At this moment there was such unimaginable pain
Questions flooded my body
My thoughts turned ******
This feeling is like musical chords
Something I can't describe with words
....
Zywa Mar 16
Authorities are

smart, they don't say anything --


they just ask questions.
Novella "Sainte Anne" (1799, "Saint Anne", 2012, Isabelle de Charrière / Belle van Zuylen under the pseudonym L'Abbé de la tour), chapter 3

Authorities: persons and institutions

Collection "Specialities"
Tristan Corey Mar 13
We built our love on fragile ground,
Too young to see, too proud to bow.
We held on tight yet let it fade,
Both too late, both afraid.

We spoke in riddles and taped our cracks,
Got lost in echoes with no way back.
We needed more but feared the cost,
Each unsure of what we’d lost.

The weight of silence and words unsaid
Turned love to pain, to regret instead.
You turned away, but so did I,
Too weary to even question why.

We sought out space and stood alone,
Yet too stubborn to survive on our own.
We fought our battles side by side,
But never once as unified.

You said you left to find your way,
But were you ever going to stay?
Or was it just a softer end,
A way to leave and not pretend?

Was it easier to walk away,
To tell yourself we’d had our day?
Did love dissolve, or did thoughts betray
The part of us that begged to stay?

Or did you outgrow the life we knew,
Or maybe outgrow the me with you?
Yet now I stand, a different man,
The one we needed, heart in hand.

You lit the spark that set me free,
A fire you may never see.
You pulled away but left behind
The very strength I had to find.

You told me once to face my past,
To fight my demons, make this last.
And so I have. I’ve bled, I’ve tried,
But did you ever step inside?

I see it now. You needed space,
But also a hand you wouldn’t take.
You left to find yourself, and yet,
Are you searching? …I forget.

But what if we had stayed, had tried,
Faced the storm instead of hide?
Not just alone or side by side,
But hand in hand, as unified?

Or did we need to break apart,
To lose it all, to face the dark?
To fall so low, to drown in pain,
Before we both could rise again?

You shattered me, but I see now,
I let it happen, still, somehow.
I hope in breaking, we both grew,
Despite leaving behind what we once knew.

If we had fought instead of fled,
Faced our fears, spoke words unsaid,
Would we have found what now is mine,
But shared it, side by side in time?

You shaped the change you’ll never see,
Helped draft the blueprint that’s made me, me.
And though I’ve built what we once dreamed,
It belongs to me alone, it seems.

And now I have the love we lost,
The kind we needed, at any cost.
Yet the cruelest truth remains unspoken:
We never tried, we left it broken.
What if I'm wrong?
What if I'm on the wrong side?
What if they're right?
And they did nothing wrong?

Maybe I need more proof,
Maybe I need to let this go,
I want this to be a safe space,
I pray for a safe HP.

Is there a way we can have peace,
Where no one gets hurt anymore,
Is there a way we can have peace,
Without tearing apart HP?
I haven't seen any proof one way or the other for anyone. I want the best for this site, to be a place where people can find safety in art. Is there a way we can take away real predators and not have people falsely accused as one?
Where is Elliot?
Where are the moderators?
How come Truth and others,
Work in plain sight,
It's so obvious, we all know.
Somebody must deliver the killing blow,
Who will slay these monsters?
I have not the power alone,
But I have a will to dethrone these evils,
And make art safe again.
Who is stopping this! Where is the action, people are being threatened
How cruel is reality,
I loved Truth,
An idol of a speaker,
An intelligent human being.

But maybe not,
Maybe he really was an evil thing,
Maybe they were all right,
The questions just pile up.

Where did he go, why did he leave,
Is he coming back, or gone for certain,
Was he really a good person,
Or was I wrong all along.
I think we all know Mr Truth, he's a big name. I love his work and I believe that he is a good person. But with all the claims and random attacks surfacing against him, I don't know if it's just instigation anymore.
Winters Dec 2024
Its like everywhere that I look,
I can see the faint outline of death herself
And every time I see her,
She looks welcoming but lonely.
  I get the feeling that I am meant to give her company,
Like we were made for each other.
But every time she stretches her arm out toward me
I go to grasp it and hold on
But she fades before I can hold her hand
Before I can touch it
And there I am back in the endless chaos of my life
Linden Lark Feb 28
They say…  
it wasn’t messy  
until the cat.  

The cat just wanted to play,  
but somewhere along the way,  
she ran into a human like us.  

Together, they began  
to play with the red string.  

They say…
before the human,  
there was no method to the string—  
just thrown about,  
knotted inexplicably.  

But then man came  
and saved the day.  
The string and cat said, “Hooray!”  

They say…
man showed up  
with rules:  
“The string isn’t a toy,  
it’s a tool.  
Throwing it about  
would be cruel.  
People could trip,  
and one day,  
the string could rip.”  

They say…
they all agreed  
to move the string  
to a different corridor,  
behind a big door.  

“Any questions?”  
A little hand rose up.  
She was lost in the crowd,  
a girl I hadn’t noticed before.  

Her question sent ice to my core:  
“Then why is there red string  
all over the floor?”  

I snapped,
“There is no red string  
on the floor!”  
If they hear her question
Will it be safe for us anymore
The air grows heavier
Much too heavy to breathe
The sounds of heavy footsteps
Now growing louder than a horn
I’ve never heard knocks like this before
Why does it sound like a war
on the other side of the door?
All for a little girl?
Is that what all of this is for?

But then I looked down  
and barely began to see—  
the red string  
had tangled me.  
And by scolding the girl
Instead of letting it be
Have I sentenced her to a fate
just like me?

Too stunned,  
to speak,  
too stuck,  
to move—  

Her soft knowing eyes met mine
With the truth that mine were too calloused to realize
What They say…
might be too good  
to be true.


They say…
they lived happily ever after
They say…. “They will never all question us anyway.”
They say…
They say the world is orderly, that the rules keep us safe. But what happens when we start to see the tangled threads beneath it all? A Fable Tangled in Red String is a poetic exploration of control, obedience, and the quiet power of questioning what we’re told. Through the lens of a simple game—man, cat, and string—this piece unravels the illusions of order, revealing how easily we become ensnared in the stories ‘they’ tell us. But once we see the string, can we ever unsee it?
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