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LDP Apr 2020
Darling, it’s about time you come home,
I told myself.
Facing the ceiling with warm hands crossed
At my stomach, my eyes glued on the wall,
Mesmerised by the shifting mandalas,
Bright colours and overwhelming joy.
The weight of ten lifetimes rose from my lifeless body
And waltzed away into the cool air.
I convinced myself that it was just for fun,
But really it replaced the warmth that has been
Stripped away from my being,
If anything, this is my healing.
From my newest collection, "Sober".
LDP Apr 2020
She let the tiny pieces of paper under her tongue
Bring her closer to a temporary euphoria,
But reality hits when the ego rises from the ashes
And her sweet trip is over.
The first poem from my newest collection, "Sober"
Hope Nov 2019
I used to love the feeling it gave me
I would be up, dancing all night
And everything would be blurry
With black curtains draped over my sight
And I would laugh endlessly
Tripping over my own two feet
Admitting my love for others mindlessly
Going to sit, but missing my seat
And when I’d fall on the cold floor
With a hard thud, a scratch on my back
I’d get up to pour me more
Until my conscious would fade and the world turned black
I can’t forget the drunk flirtation
Or the way my heart beat out of my chest
Always giving into the temptation
But now I know what’s best
Because I see him
And his heart is cold
And his eyes are dim
His soul is sold
To the fuzzy feeling
He is not himself
And he needs to start healing
He will never find his own self
His words are loud and sour
His eyes are coal and soot
Because the alcohol gives him power
To stomp with his foot
And curse me all night long
Until I run away
Because I know he is too strong
And his mind is full of gray
So now I turn my back on the bottle
Out of fear that I will end up like that too
That I may now longer walk, only tottle
I want to be like me, never like you
Because to me the bottle is harmless
But to you it is your will to live
And you have turned charmless
With nothing to give
Ray Dunn Sep 2019
one with the rust,
trickling into the soils--
one more sip i just
gotta watch the smoke coil...
idk im bored and dont wanna do homework
Martin May 2019
My calendar is empty, June to December,
Ingesting synthetic Alzheimer's, ‘til I can't remember,
All the days in my life, all the days in the year,
Rejecting all the advice, that I can't even hear,

I can cater to longing, I can cater to needs,
But not to my future, and not to my dreams,
I pick the poison I deserve, to get the push and the shove,
That I need to run away, from all the things that I'm sick of.

I am made of oil, my worlds made of water,
In can never connect, but as I grow hotter,
My body and mind, they bend with straits,
The currents of life, they crush me like weights,
I bubble, blend and break, I float and I sink,
I can't stop drifting apart, so all I do is drink,
Bits of me are scattered, all around me, it seems,
But I couldn't hope to get them back, I can't see through the seams,
Of the novice sewing job I've made of my connections,
The knots of my relationships sick up in every direction,
But all I do is float here, and watch them unravel,
My thoughts suddenly idle, like feet kicking gravel,
I can kick scream and cry, about my inaction,
But I can't bring myself to fight, I'm lost in abstraction,
Of the things in mind, conjured from quiet,
But I can't stomach it all on this ***** only diet,
All I hear is the fan in my window, and the fountain outside,
I feel the heat on my skin, and the wound in my pride,
The wind whistles in the treetops and the frog croaks persist,
But it doesn't matter now, nothing outside this room exists.

I can chase it with comfort, I can chase it with love,
But that won't let the hope in, the light from above,
Lost among my stupor and the hypnotic vapors,
All these things I can't help, tears seeping into paper.

All these things i've forgotten, all the times that are gone,
All the things I've put forward, all the things I've withdrawn,
I can cater to longing, to all the little things,
The words slide from my thoughts, water off a wing,
I'm dying, dissolving, rotting away,
It's dictating all my movements, I don't got any say,
This dysmetamorphosisis is unraveling me,
Every step is stagnant, I just couldn't foresee,

My tongue feels thick and my words won't stop slurring,
Everything is vivid but my vision is blurring,
My mind lags behind and my body moves slow,
I feel free at last, but deep down I know,
I'm killing myself, slowing as possible,
Nursing on poison, So I'm not responsible,
I can't think anymore, the words just won't come,
I scream and I cry, but my mind is still numb,
I can feel everything slipping, just what I needed,
What I crave to numb the wounds I've left untreated,
I can't muster the words, or the strength or the will,
To do what it takes, to finally distill,
My wants from my needs, my comforts from addictions,
To break out the haze, to break out of my fiction,
But for now, I am safe, swaddled in the embrace,
Of the things that will **** me, what I dare not erase,
I'm already here, why leave so soon,
It's alright, I can stop, I'm immune.
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