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ZACK GRAM May 18
You are banned no kilos no water no gas..
Im the 1 attack me
Die trying
Im dropping bombshells
Fourth of Z.
King Earth
Ill destroy you
Hurry **** me 1st
I got worse buried alive
Finger by finger nail an ear by tow
New york
Los angelas
You
Are
Cut
Off
By
King
Z
Notice
1k dead right now
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2023
And So the Day Begins (Bring Them Home)

~ With love for T.R. & S.R., my friends ~

<>

Their spirits, sensed, well kept,
in a sudden breeze, a sudden sneeze,
at the precise exacting, millisecond,
when skin, mind intersect, coinciding,
Mine, Theirs, and wet eyes and
smile traces arrive unbidden but both
together, always simultaneous and I know,
full hearted, full throated gasp grasping,
my soul and hands, touching, clasping,
in the kitchen odors, morning coffee,
early daylight across my face sweeping,
on the tongue, their taste on mine,
and I am present in this moment
as they are too, with me forever if
but just for a heartbeat, maybe two,
stilled yet, my heart trembles as it fuses
with Them and Everyone of Us is renewed,
and so the day begins,
Oh Our Children!
remembering, a point on our journey,
our always unbroken continuum.



<>

7:17AM
July 22
Two Thousand and Twenty Three
but one more day until…
mine eyes wet, can’t be dried,
and all around no one notices,
but there is contentment even
in that,
as it is my private momentary placement,
in Heaven on Earth,
all together,
merging…
Brandon Aug 2020
It's their soft aloofness
dwelling quietly, peacefully in their mind
where reality fades within endless possibilities

It's the calm that rests in their expression
carrying grace with every emotion
as they wash over their being

It's their gentle touch
delivering warmth
as their fingers dance innocently
uselace Apr 2022
I don't know much
except that when they call me "darling"
it feels like a warm blanket
And when their hands are in my hair
or scraping the back of my neck
so light it makes me shiver,
i think for the first time in too long
that i could die happy
I know that i want to spend my days laying with them,
laughing, teasing, but always
coming back to "i love you";
my nights holding on
sending one last text
before a sleep that gets me closer to seeing them again
I don't know much.
But I've already gone through a lot
and loving them is one of the only things
that i want to keep going through,
until i know them
and only them.
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, some words turn to dust--no one to understand no one to value on land:\


hold the words save the rush

throw away turn to dust

in a hint an unwarned gush

leave to decay surrender to rust

upon a flash

upon a sleep

in a thousand nights and one they tear

on a heart of gold to dash

on breast to bare

no more they burn they fast

they swear


                                                                                        -------ravenfeels
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, let them talk---not even hearing;->


as if they talk

like to a fault they swirl to get a may

as if they walk the walk

like its not in me for this day
                            

                                                                              ------ravenfeels
Ashlyn Yoshida Mar 2021
There's a phone in the corner of my bag
Where I tell the people I love I need out
I called the other Them to help me
The people my mother was always running from

The people who would finally take me away
Riz Mack Jan 2021
A man tired from the waking day
hangs his keys on the beaded hook,
lets the hat off his grateful head.
He places himself in front of the table
where he laid down his papers,
his skins and his skin.
He put on the table, the day's characters,
mulled them over in the electronic hum of Aleph and coffee flavoured eyes,
rolled them up tight with tomorrow's fears
and set them alight.
He put there a glass ashtray to catch the embers of regret.
He put on the table his dear friend, Old Man Wibble,
the bedlamite seer,
drunken oracle,
"liquid Jesus, straight from the bottle"
and longed for a glass to raise.
He put there the smoke from his exasperated lungs
and the wistful music of his tired throat,
he put there every last syllable and every letter left lingering on a lost lovers lips.
He put hope on the table,
for the weight might crush him as he sat
but not the table,
solid under this load,
to bear weight is what a table must do
and tomorrow will always bring another pile.
https://youtu.be/co2HfQBeREY

an exercise in growing a poem
Wilder Nov 2020
I know my face is feminine
I know everyone 'knows' I'm a girl
I know in this confusing christian society
You have to keep to the binary

And so I don't expect them
To look at me
And say "He"

But just once
Maybe they'll hesitate
Before saying "She"
That could be enough
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