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David Hilburn Apr 21
Omni-portrayal
******* in love, to the dark
And omnipresent vote for survival
Of love, ******* knows where avid harks

Children of love...
And steady immersion of poise to the like
Wise, the grace of reliance on us...
That has voice, for a philosophy of psyche

That we are sleeping next to...
Chance and devoid, the world's honor
Has come of age, in our stir of again and youth
Wouldn't you, the rosey future of stomached verve?

Awakening at a reasoned silence...
The tooth of simple society, has awoken with me
Poorer answers to liberty, with the flower of amends
Has become my service to an ideal, that is here to collect anarchy?

Sleepy beginnings...
To a call to worth, I don't know for a shy reality
Nor the solemn, a table of suicide for its garner of winnings
From the hands of guidance, that has established fealty...

A thank you kiss?
And the giving eye, of redress for indiscretion
With the kind repose of virtue, a halo of a worldly wish
Ready in peace's live, to weigh the common with our intuition

The truth of *******...
Ample redoubt of a knowing vice, that has you by the toe
Since to vainer gifts of sharing, with living strength to wit
Is it willful to judge another's dream, with the sense of worldlier soul's?
didn't a speed for specialness, become a shadow of the philosopher's stone?
Violet E Apr 21
27
27

Today I turn 27,
Finding myself not feeling anything,
Recovery is a bittersweet ending,
Sobriety but a lingering telling,
It took 27 lines of ******* drugs,
Not the kind you may think off,
The kind we are so addicted to,
27 lines of the purest lies,
27 lines of the finest mistreatment,
27 lines of the most mindfucking self harming,
27 lines of the most relaxing coping,
27 lines of the most euphoric settling,
It took 27 contracts,
To realize that in this tale as old as time ending,
Is never too late,
To rule over a queendom,
Abandoned by the heiress,
A queen of a lonely poetry,
Fading in the vision,
Chasing fantasies,
Never seeing the clock behind her,
27 years to wake up from a slumber,
A self given kiss,
The curse is broken,
27 years of harcore lines,
The ones that only make you realize,
Delusion is but a poisoned apple,
The side effects but a reflection of the hidden mirror,
For in the end, my world is but an illusion,
The same you wake up to,
An actress of everyone's delusions,
Never given a chance to envision,
The illustrations of a scripture,
A tale written by a lonely heiress,
One that welcomes,
Foes that see the vision,
Wolves wearing sheep linen,
Their masquerade no longer hidden,
27 years of ******* lines,
Rose pink sunglasses the sweetest red wine,
27 years of the finest lines,
Why was it so hard,
To see what was left behind,
A world that is only mine,
Looking, looking, and looking,
For a savior wearing armor and diamond,
Today I realize,
The heaviness in my heart,
Heaviness of armor I looked past,
I had been fighting a war,
To protect what is so precious and not far,
The vision of a lonely child,
Made to closer her eyes,
So she would never realize,
She was the one she was looking for,
Shameless for is never too late,
To open the gates of heaven inside.
Today is my 27th birthday, a fated rebirth of a war ridden woman worthy of the heaven that resides deep within, outward, below and above, heaven, earth, and hell. The battles to protect it are over, but the war to keep it alive is endless. on a less poetic note, I just want to remind everyone that is don't matter how old you are. for it is NEVER too late to realize that there is a heaven within you, it is so easy to believe in the hell we are all used to. why is it so hard for us to realize that heaven is not something waiting for us at the gates of our demise. but rather an experience we get to have here on earth. the law of duality reminds us that, good in our world, our lives is just as real as the evil we experience every second of our lives. for one needs the other to remain alive, give yourself flowers today. for doing so one day will encourage you to give flowers to the world, not from a place of lack, but from a place of overflowing abundance. I love you, if you got to read this.
You agonize the narrow
I must leave you there
To tenderize the pharaoh
Layer lush and ample fabric bare
Share the weight of marrow
Several stones to spare in tow
Though one good strike, straight as arrow
Between the breast would **** the sparrow

Recognize the symbols
Mind maneuvers nice and nimble
Cracking fingers thumping chest
Lay them down to rest in thimbles
Grasping straws like thorns in thistles
Language lingers, yearns to click
Waiting for a whistle
Brain is Pavlov, oilslick
Alchemizing maladies
To blunt the morning pistol

Bathe in shattered pools of thought
Meddling in silence
Betwixt a tug and vice grip
Stands the one who shapes with violence
Defend the winding gauntlet
Soothed by gentle guidance
Send the snare in riveting
For snakes who break from Camelot
And those who sleep with science
Zywa Apr 20
Let each other live,

forced integration turns out --


wrong for everyone.
Personal essay "Galmende geschiedenissen" ("Echoing histories", 2025, Sinan Çankaya)

Live and let live

The mentality that minorities should adapt in cultural matters, as if integration comes down to that, is colonialist; the point of living together is living according to the rule of law, with respect for everyone's cultural customs

Collection "Truder"
It's only bi-sexuality,
Who gives a ****?
It's consensual sexuality
Between loving partners.
It ***** being on the cusp
Of any one lean,
But so much worse
Being truly in-between.
It's not indecision,
Not confusion.
That's what's so perplexing
To any outside party.
Not that
It's any easier internally.
For I understand myself
And am comfortable with me,
But it's
Just the nature of society.
Nature of our philosophies,
Nature of our identities.

I'm just a product of nature.

We're all
Royal plains for an ***.
We're all
Noble springs *******.

I'm just a lover of nature.

If I seem to be having a laugh,
That's not a point you're missing.
But if you can't sense the sadness
It's cause they're kissing.
Here's one about me!
I mean, honestly. . .
Mariah Apr 18
We are people.
Not machines.
We are meant to be appreciated-
and not as merely
property.
Mariah Apr 18
Grow! Grow! Grow!
Or you'll be left behind
How productive was your week?
Are you accountable for your time?

Tell me just what it is-
You bring to the table
How much would you profit me?
If you are even able.

Next! Next! Next!
Could you command a room?
Can you read context?

Tell me your greatest weakness
Is it also your greatest strength?
What exactly is your worth?
When you include your height and weight.  

Are you reliable?
Do you think you're personable?
How do you work with coworkers?
Would you share bathrooms with her?

How flexible is your time-
when in truth its actually mine.
Good answer, sign this line,
No need to know what this implies.

See you Monday, watch your breaks.
Be on time, don't clock out late.  
Remember there's no overtime.
My door is open anytime.

Welcome to the family.
Weekly breakdowns guaranteed.
Tour our facility, get to know the faculty.
We've had to lock the balcony,
apart from that small tragedy,
here we live quite lavishly.

First day's always the hardest one
Keep your head down till it's done
If you can bare the powderkeg
You can expect your weekly check

See you soon and don't forget,
You haven't even started yet!
Kellie Gray Apr 17
I can't move in this dim room for the crowding of spirits
Each hustling and tussling, engorging the space
In all their gluttony and false exchanges something beyond their crassness changes
The air, it lightens at last
And in the corner, permeates your glance.
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