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FloydBrandon Nov 2019
Puff puff pass gettin gassed in the haz-mask
Higher than a certified
Space craft
Hard to feel your fingers
elbow deep inside a munchie bag
Shatter on the wax
Never caught me in a speed trap
Spittin fire from the tail pipe
Like I’m mad max

God. ****.
That’s a pretty reef,

Never have you ever
felt’a skunk
smelt so sweet,
Greener than a Bob Ross
Painting of a pine tree
Doobie-doobie duped
                          dude
Blew me like the mind freak

Other stoners know
When it blows
Poke-mon-go
-‘t High street
Take your shoes off though
You’re steppin in my Pep si,
bro,
You think I’m growin stacks?
I just spent my last twenty dollars
on a grammie
and some snacks.
https://soundcloud.com/brandonfloyd/hobble
Taylor St Onge Nov 2018
I watched a man die from a distance the other night at work.  
He was a patient on my unit,
                                                    a BOP, a bedded outpatient.  
Came in for a routine procedure, it ran long, so they
stuck him in a bed overnight for observation and
discharged him the next afternoon.  

Came back three days later.  
Valve exploded in his chest.  
Transferred to CVICU.  
Coded twice.  

The first code was cancelled almost immediately.  
False alarm.  Critical condition, but not a code.  
The second code they called dragged on and on and on.  

I know this because someone pulled him up on the telemetry monitor by our nurse’s station, and we watched him flatline, watched him asystole, watched his heart at zero and zero and zero.  Watched them bag him, give manual respirations.  Watched the forced waves on his flat rhythm from each compression.  Every palm to sternum.  Every electric shock caused a wave and then fell flat.  Zero.  Zero.  Zero.  Absolute zero.  Like in space or whatever.  So cold.  No life, no movement.  Zero, just zero.  Flatline.  Asystole.  No life possible, no life attainable.  
I watched him die from a distance.  From two floors above on a computer monitor.  Secondhand death.

They stopped compressing,
                                                    stopped bagging,
                                                                                   and he stopped existing.  
Became stagnant, static.  No longer
held in the balance, in the limbo,
in the purgatory between life and death.  
                                                        ­                    He crossed over and
                                                             ­             stayed at absolute zero.  

I never met him, just knew of him, so
                                                              wh­at does that mean for me?  
                                                           ­   What am I supposed to do with
           the knowledge that many of the patients I come in contact with
                          die sometimes very soon after I meet them?  

Most things I touch die.  Plants, fish, hamsters, my mother.  
We can’t spare everyone, that’s stupid.  There is
a natural order to things.  Darwinism.  Survival of the fittest.  
                                        All that *******.  

When my mother landed herself in the ICU, we knew
                                                   where she wanted her money to go, but
                not what we were supposed to do with all this ******* grief.  
                Not what to do with her body.  
                Not if we should keep her on life support to
                                                                ­                  drag out the suffering.  
She gave no directions on how to live without a mother.  

(But how do you direct something like that?
An idea so big, so lofty that directions will always fall short.)

The grief cycle will
                                     always fall short.  
Most days I don’t think acceptance is truly possible.  

Some days I’m there, and others I’m not.  
                                                          ­          It’s not linear, it’s not stagnant.  
                                                     ­                       It’s not absolute zero.  
It moves back and forth and
                                               becomes the snake eating its own tail.  
                                                         ­           Ouroboros.  

Where do you go from here?  How do you truly move on?  

I’m falling through a gas giant.  Nothing keeps hold here,
                                                         nothing keeps score (but the body).  

It’s 5:27 in the morning and I’m thinking
                                                 about that man that flatlined again.
Zero on the telemetry monitors, no heart rhythm, asystole. Spike for compression.  Nothing, nothing, nothing.  The body gets cold when there is no more blood pumping, no more heartbeat, no more brain waves; nothing to keep it warm.  Blood slowly slinks down to the lowest bend.  Becomes a bruise on the skin.  Absolute zero is the coldest theoretical temperature. No movement possible.  So cold, atoms cannot move.  Electrons cannot hum.  
                                                        The body becomes this. No life possible.
don't ya'll love this heavy **** I force onto you
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
I want you to be the paint that drips on my canvas
our bodies brush to create something beautiful
Gertié Dec 2015
the first time you have
mistaken me for her
i knew it wasn't
just a freudian slip
i mean i was aware
of it for a while now
i just chose not
to comment on it
but if i said
i didn't mind at all
i would be lying
but i guess
pretending i don't
know anything
is still sort of —
kind of —
lying.
like that time you
made me breakfast
in bed and i was
surprised you knew
how i liked my
coffee when you
didn't even like
caffeine — but
i realized that it
was the only
thing you knew
how to brew
because she was
the one who
taught you.
and that time
i was so sure
i caught the first
syllable of her name
trapped between
the intersection of
your lips and my skin
and throughout
that whole night
i wondered if you
were closing your
eyes because of
pleasure, or because
of the pleasure of
imagining her.
but the last straw
was on the day of
our wedding, and
we were saying
our vows, and i said
i (my name)
take thee (your name)
as my lawfully wedded
husband and you
were supposed to
say i (your name)
take thee (my name)
but instead of my
name you said hers
while we were at
the altar and you
were holding my
hands and
i knew —
and i have
always known
that it wasn't just
a slip of the
tongue.

{g.c.q}
Purple Rain Dec 2015
Roses are red
violets are blue
last time we talked
I forgot to mention I love you
I love your simplistic imperfections
The way our brains make simple connections
Looking into both of our kind hearted eyes
Wishing we can minimize the pain we both feel inside

When we're put together
You and I love each other forever and more
Our hearts range deep
Starting from the vibrant colors of our hearts core
One day I'll say I love you as I look into the beauty of your green eyes
Touching the softness of your hair
And the calmness of your skin
I'll tell you
I adore the bravery of the fight you have within
And The warmth of your...
I'll pause and say where do I begin
And as the wind blows ill smile Into your eyes
As the loveliness of yourself smiles back
I'll say I love you
And I hope your okay with that
2015 Isabella Rose
Lukas Sep 2014
Look at me and see my face
Look at me and see my body
Look at me and see my build
Look at me and know the truth
I want to be myself
But it's hard when you're in the wrong body
Ross is my name
I have no other
Look at me and see I'm a girl
Look at me and see I'm frail
Look at me and see I'm small
Look at me and see the lie
I am a boy like any other
I am just the same don't you see?
I get bullied and beat
I get tripped and shoved
My books and papers fly down the halls
I just want to be Ross
I am Ross
For everyone dealing with a similar situation. You know who you are.

— The End —