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Victoria Jul 15
my laptop                       when i type
and even when im not quite sure what it is im typing
it still                                               onward
click click clicks
onward as if something important
dancing sporadically over keys
in that heavy
when i look up i see jumbled letters meaningless little black doodles sprawled across
lifeless conglomerations of things i know and (dont)
just wanted to hear the sound
Artem Mars May 5
They can separate themselves from their demons
I can’t
The demons I carry around have been my best friends for so long,
I can’t tell the difference from them,
And me
They know when a thought is being placed there from something non-human
I don’t
They talk so much it pours out my mouth
The demons say they love me,
So Me, being desperate for love
Accept them
Then I follow their rules
- eat little- sleep none- cry always- tears never
And so many more
I’m no longer self-regulated because I'm no longer myself
They swallowed me
Since I can’t tell the difference between us, I willingly gave myself up
Traded myself
For a monster
That only brings others down, or drags me down, to lift others higher
They have become me
They are me
There Isn't a distinction anymore
There isn’t a red font to tell me what ideas to avoid
Because I don’t avoid any ideas at all
Nothing is off-limits, they tell me if I see a thought,
Take it
No matter who it hurts, especially if it hurts me, if you think it, you can do it!
They tell me
You only live once
So they make it hell, but only to prepare me for what’s to come,
They’ve convinced me they only have my best interest in mind, I let them make walls
To protect me
a lil poem about my brain
Georgie Jan 29
"You keep typing and stopping
All the time"

There is a reason
I want to talk
All the time

I want to say
How I'm feeling
How you make me feel
All the time

But I can't
Because that's weird
So I just keep typing
And stopping
All the time

Writing out words
I'll never send.
Why is my life like this
Jason Drury May 2019
The etchings,
of a dreamer.

Who's quill he,
quibbles with.

Grasping at an idea,
that he hydrates
with ink.

In wrathful vengeance,
he abuses parchment,
with a sharpened wood spear.

Drinking his creation,
tweaking the taste,
that's almost bitter.

Slash, ****,
cross out.
He is vexed,
about the ending…
**** me sidewase-- sidewise apparently,
i can't get a word in between these red dots and
Red snakes biting at my letters's ankles
At least when I'm pen ning I have the option to ignore that im an *******

You **** gobbling weak kneed slack jawed fool

Alright Alright let's take it easy I'm simply trying to help
No one would ever doubt your genius
But your spelling can certainly take a little
Is that how you

Dont patronize me **** it
Lily Jan 2019
You’d think that after
All this time I’ve spent typing,
That I could spell “the”.
I always type too quickly and then I have to go back through and edit all my "tehs" :)
Anya Jan 2019
Click Click clickety-click
A rolling laughter in waves,
Increases like a storm, then comes spinning down
In little bouts,  Actually
My to do list stretches quite long as I enjoy frequently reminding myself
Feeling busy
Feeling like I'm useful
I have things
to do
For some reason
Maybe none,
I don't
Open my tab
and do them
Click Click clickety-click
Yani Dec 2018
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a drive to speak for the unspeakable,
or an urge to spill words like blood from a wound?

There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a trigger for a wreck that is to come,
or a spark of idea from a wicked mind I can't own?

There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
I can't scratch it like a card, gambling for a prize,
nor can I treat it with alcohol, poured on rashes or drank in a rush.

There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
it clouds my visionless eyes, naked or on lenses
it agitates my trembling hands, I can't smunpew.
sometimes when
no one checks
the group chat
for awhile and
there’s no one
else on-
it feels like you’re
just talking in an
empty theatre- waiting.
waiting for anything.
a “read” notification,
a typing bubble-
a sign that you’re
not alone-
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