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LeV3e May 12
I'm so obsessed with
Being better that I'll
Be better at being worse to, you

In our worst moments
You'd better remember
The rhythm of the words we spoke, cause

Through better or worse
Until death do us part
My better half is your worst
I will be
a little bit bolder.
Spread my wings and fly.

I will be
a little bit stronger.
Soaring through the endless sky.

I will be
truer to who I really am.
Broken and bent, but beautiful.
No longer a lie.
Francie Lynch Oct 2021
You could change the world.
You should.
Repeat this inauspicious comment to someone;
Age isn't part of the equation.
Even the youth may listen, may remember,
I should change the world.
You did. Some place, at a time unknown.
It's not so obvious as the Butterfly Effect;
Appearing subtly, less noticeable than
Pedaling into a velvet N-E Huron breeze
A walker feels on her wet lips
During a burnt Autumn stroll.
I changed,
And rocked the world
Of  my loved ones.
Z May 2021
one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i wish i took more seriously.

every time i try to clear out the cobwebs inside my chest, i bump my head and shoulders into things hooked on its walls; knock my knees and toes into things stuffed in its nooks and crannies.
i would lay low and slowly
unpack the baggage i accumulated and start learning to compartmentalise,
unhang the skeletons of souls that have been chasing me in my dreams,
undogear the chapters that are done and dusted where you, like all the others, remain a metaphor, a foreshadowing, a symbol, a period that i thought would fit my lifelong sentence,
but that's a story for another day.

my obsession with hoarding memories like my life depended on it
has long been a problem
just like my system being an "organised mess"
— you and i both know, i am the mess.
until i can fold away my feelings from my past
and tuck away my thoughts about my future
to make sense of my present,
i will have to keep collecting these scattered words and phrases
waiting to be bound and sealed in a box somewhere.

one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i took seriously
so that when it stops beating
it is full
and light
at the same time.

- 20200218
Derrick Jones Mar 2021
Sun and moon

Flower and bloom

This is a cartoon

But also in tune

With reality

The stream flowing freely

Merrily, dreamily

The me flowing me-ly



We are Grist for the Mill

That’s the gist, I’m just a shill

In the mist, I don’t shoot to ****

I aim my arrow with love

To heal, I wield this skill

And I point my pistol high into the sky

I will throw away my shot

Again and again

So that others know where to aim

I am but a photon blasting into and out of the sun

I am all and I am one

Just begun, yet fully spun

Not just having fun, I am become
Thank you for being. If you would like to see more of my poetry, essays, and other writings, check out my blog on Medium:
James McMahon Feb 2021
I saw a Way, forward
and cloaked myself in the skin
of a Digital dimension.

I began living
cloud-soaring and ascending soft
and the headset came off.

Now even curtains are
retreating, from the light now
streaming into my eyeballs.

Ow! To whit, I prefer
to refer to it as "path."
Plans, they fail.

Paths diverge.
Was thinking of my plans to improve my career situation in regards to breaking into XR projects, and started laughing about some of my past plans and how very wrong they went.

I then thought of how I'm still stubbornly going after the coolest things I've experienced in my life since I was a kid that were never "plans" and just Were for me, and figured I'd ***** all that onto my public page.

Watch your step!
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I have several toxic habits - I know - because I read this article on the web.
It’s a miracle I’m not an axe murderer, based on what the experts said.

I use “should” biased judgements - when things go amiss.
I think about the future, when settling down to rest.
I obsess on defining the “best part” in each of my experiences.
I often think in poetic terms  - which has driven wise men delirious.
I have nova bursts of interest - which escalate into crushes.
I keep a mental list of incidents which, if left unmanaged, lead to grudges.

The flaws go on and on - God, I simply am a mess.
I need to face my many flaws so that they might be addressed.

Do you think anyone is ever perfect?
Is it like playing whack-a-mole?

So that no one ever ends up perfect - they simply end up old?
It's hard sometimes to recognize my own faults - they're like blind-spots.
The Dybbuk Oct 2020
When we are alone,
and our masks crumble,
we are confronted by the mirror.
So close...
you could reach out and touch
your self.
Your sickly reflection
stares back into you, and you are struck by
the confrontation between souls.
Break the mirror, and you will only be left with ****** knuckles.
Break yourself, however, and you will be born anew.
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