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Days have been passing like whole seasons,
cold hours, sunburns, long sleeves.
I'm being dragged by storms to hopeless islands.
My rights feel wrong and my wrongs feel right,
there are no lies if there's no truth,
I beg for answers but all get is silence.
                              ­     Passion
                                         Fine Point        
                 And  Need
   There is a very

I barely seem to miss it each time

     I don’t know what I want
               I don’t know what I really

I know I need to do  s o m e t h i n g   I know I need            s o m e t h i n g
             I need             s o m e t h i n g
s o m e t h i n g          s o m e t h i n g

I can’t seem to learn
                               ­        What am I
                                     Looking for by
                                          Being here
        ­             Why bother
I know I
Cannot have what
I want
                                         But if I could
                             Give my all for you

              There is no question.
I don’t really know, honestly. But I’ll still try my best.
jia May 21
why do i keep holding on
on something so uncertain
uncertain if you really want me
me who only knows how to hope

why do I like you
you do not even notice
my longing stares and glances
glances that I've hidden so long

why don't you choose me
me who kept on waiting
waiting for something uncertain
uncertain as you are
Carlo C Gomez May 10
[begin transmission]

Little mean marble,
the grasshopper lies heavy,
riding storms
and trailing winds,
eating dystopia
right out of the box

suns and daughters
of the cataclysm
sit about a space
cadet's campfire,
hints of alien sand
in their voices

it so oddly resembles
vast outland libretto,
that breathe of menace,
inside sojourners
holding tickets to ride
tramlines on shuttle days

swarming with
Walter Mitty groupies
and econowives,
transporting ****, rapture,
and/or reproduction to worlds
of public domain

one day we'll settle here
one day, with bowed heads,
we'll kiss the splendor
of its red ruination

[end transmission]
Summer Apr 30
can you see through the haze of
future parading shadows of commuters in the
                            crevice of time
past the kaleidoscopic glass castle and
                            sepia windows
reflected in your eyes
students baying within bubbles of blue
blaring muted, ancient, utopian cries
                             from now
Today I had the last day of lecture, feels like an unofficial graduation.
How time flies
Left To Rot Apr 19
I don't recognize this face in the mirror,
this didn't use to be me,
what am I?
How far away am I?
All the damage I've seen,
all the harm I've done,
maybe I deserve to be uncertain.
All the life has been ****** out of me,
I might've done this to myself,
I could be held accountable.
I try to be smart enough to show what's inside,
I don't believe I am,
no words seem to be enough to show what I mean.
Is this all just selfish of me?
Narcissism, is it what this is all about?
Not everything is about me,
why do I feel all the pain?
Can anyone tell me what this is all about?
I'm scared, hopeless, and alone.
Every sentence might be the last.
All my stuff might as well be tagged sad or depressive.
He wrote poetry

As one may take the bus

Patiently waiting in the eye of the storm

His storm, the storm of thought

With or without cause or fuss

Or an element of uncertainty

Whether or not the wait will deliver

Deliver us to the fate of salvation
Is fifteen days too soon?
I think I might be starting to fall for you.
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