Oculi 1d

I've been asked so many questions by these dreams.
My reality, my ideas are being questioned.
What is the world?
It's all that's around me.
What is the world?
It's everyone and everything.
What is the world?
It's what I see and feel?
Is that what your world is?
I... think so.

Who are you?
I'm Johnny.
Who are you?
I'm an artist.
Who are you?
I'm the pilot, The Third Child, the poet, the unwanted man.
Who are you?
That is me! What do you want from me?
Who are you?
I'm... I hate myself.
Is that who you are?
I... don't know.

Why do you write?
Because it helps me relieve myself of my feelings.
Why do you write?
Because I need to share my artistry.
Why do you write?
Because I want people to notice me.
Why do you write?
Because I want to be loved!
Why do you write?
I just want love.

Because I'm alone.
I hurt myself.
I hate myself.
I... I...

What is this world to you?
It's pain, it's emptiness.
You probably just made yourself think that.
Everybody hates me.
You probably just made yourself think that.
I hate me.
You probably just made yourself think that.
Everything is terrible, I hate it all.
You probably just made yourself think that.
You... You're lying to me!
You probably just made yourself think that.
I don't know what's real anymore.

That's no issue. Take some time.
Your friends will help you understand reality sooner or later.

Fourth of five.

My poems; who have I been writing to?
Are they just words that I have plastered with meaning,
Pinned against the wall with emotion?
Are they written for the lovers I've known,
Or the ones I never will?
Maybe they belong to the demon I dedicate my sins to...
Or is it to the fact that it doesn't exist?
Are they reflections of my soul, or my mind, or just chemical nonsense smeared across canvas?
I would prefer any of these to the truth.
The truth, the unfortunate truth, is that my poems are love letters to this broken, little world that doesn't check it's mail.

Oculi 1d

What a wonderful world, where people can come to life
A place, where ones like me lead like a butter through a knife
A land, where people like us, they're lead by the meek
A land, where all I can call myself is just weak
I have so many memories of this place that I'll never share
Seeing things, learning things, but to talk of them I'd never dare
All my memories will be lost in time, just like yours or theirs
That's just how the average tiny man in this world fares
A land, where all of us live only to learn and then die
Where that knowledge isn't shared, it's just yours or mine
Where we raise our sons and daughters not knowing our fate
After this, living in a fair, equal world is something I'd hate

Mother... father... you've raised someone such as yourselves
Someone who's ripe for this world's picking, someone well
I must thank all ancestors for making us so wretched
It's easier for us and the world to bury the hatchet
I don't hate you anymore, mom and dad.
You made me willing to die right.

NTR 3d

feverish scrawling writing in tongues
speaking in fingers
eyes blind to the outside world
mind's sight fixed on a familiar girl

who are you
you already know my name
I'm confused
you only have yourself to blame
leave me alone
I know you'll be easily tamed
please stop this
I'll teach you to love this game

I wake to the pain of pencil splinters
and a poem ended with bloodied fingers.
washing my handsin the sink
I need a moment to think
I need a breather
drown myself in water
muddled, all my thoughts are.

eyes open to the outside world
I check my reflection
eyesight catches a familiar girl
are you ready your lesson

deepest lore
ntr will return for the sequel
Thanks for the daily

Can we dig a path to France,
Here in the woods of Washington?
I want to take you to Barcelona,
Dance on the green hills of Ireland.
Can we set a course to the heart of joy?
Let me take you around the world.

Grab my hand and I'll grab yours,
Let us walk and live in love.

frankie 4d

somwhere in the world
a small girl sits in a classroom while the teacher tells the class that they won't be reading Maya Aneglou because of it's sensitive content
while later that day the same small girl goes home to a father who binds her wrists so tightly to the bed, her veins almost burst. His sick fantasy gone wild and she'll never read about someone who survived.

somewhere in the world
little boys run wild, with smiles on their faces
ignorant to teh chaos around them
these little boys look so happy, to the untrained eye
but look around them, they're actually running for their lives.

somewhere in the world
a mother watches a family through a restaurant window throwing away full course meals with tears in her eyes wondering if she'll be able to feed the kids tonight

somewhere in the world
lovers hide, in fear of being found out that they are not of different sexes and that they are of different races
petrified of being punished for what everyone else sees as a crime
or even worse, not making back to their beloved alive

somewhere in the world,
a little girl asks if daddy is ever gonna come back
and she wonders why he's gone in the first place because no one ever told her that daddy never loved her.

somewhere in the world,
the restless lie awake at night fighting battles with their demons
fumbling open a bottle of jack or a pharmacy vial of xanax
wondering how fast they'll take away the pain

across the world
there is sin, all seven of them
pouring out of every thing that inhabits the earth

somewhere in the world
there is a someone who will erupt the revolution
and we're all patiently waiting for the anarchy to begin.

ella 4d

In the city of New York
I want to be in a taxi
on a gloomy cold day.
leaning on the window of the car
watching how the snow melts to water
and slides down to win a race with other drops.
quietly listing to the distant music
and the laughs of a café
happy for how excited everyone
is for the first snow of the year.
"hey, stop here" i say to the driver.
in the middle of the street
i look up to the sky and smile
at the snow falling unto
my cheeks, making them rosier than ever
i laugh and twirl at the excitement.
what a world

listening to the music
that i played while
i was in New York,
take me back.
Aleeza 4d

here we are again
the edge of the world
the streetlights far behind us
and your smile in the hazy dark

truth be told
we tiptoed out of our cages
bringing old notebooks and sleepless dreams
tripping into each other's laughs

it has been months since it was like this
the uncertainty of your hand on my wrist
hushed whispers in the dead of the night
and I feel weight slip off my spine

our feet carry us to the only place of solace that we know
and even in the weeks of forgetting
in the time I let the sea carry you away
we will always find our way back here

and you start telling me of his steady hands
I remember that yours were never like that
so I smile at the thought of you belonging somewhere
after years of wandering aimlessly

so you make sand towers like you always do
and I look for seashells like I always do
the sea is singing lullabies to the two weary souls
and my pulse is humming with it

you race me to the water
and the stars glitter as you wade through them
the wind whips our hair into a tangled mess of ink
and I barely reach you when you start to speak

you recite dead languages to my fingertips
all I can think of is the promise of a sweet death
your voice against my sea-kissed skin
and the only eyes that could drown me

we drag ourselves to the shore
shaking the sand from our hair
we get blankets to wrap around our shoulders
and I feel the corners of my mouth tilt up

side by side
all of the languages of the world dead to us now
as we breathe in the sweetness of escape
and our heads tilt towards each other

you ask me what I look for in someone
and I trace swirls into the sand for a while
because I don't know
and maybe I have never known

almost two decades of this fragile life
almost everyone I’ve loved only people of my imagination|
and I kid myself with the question
and maybe I’m just afraid of the answer

but I draw the constellations in my mind as I whisper to myself

Aleeza 4d

abandoned flower fields and the lazy afternoon sun
our footsteps falling into a steady rhythm
we are almost like music in this place of lost
and neither of us seem to remember

my fingers touch the edges of your hand
trying to establish a connection that I have long craved
and normally it is not okay
but this time you let mine fit in the spaces between yours

we find a place of solace and dry grass
you are a mere inches away but I am still afraid
still afraid of what this is
still unsure of what it may be

we’re both a little tipsy, I must admit
you lie down on the ground and count the grooves in my spine
and I try to think of something to say
but  all my years of words have failed me now

is it okay?
are we really okay?
because it has been a while
and a lot of things have changed
but I still don’t know if we are right

all they have said is that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be
this isn’t how things line up in their world
but we have a world of our own
and I would give anything to be entangled in it

this is the only time we can really escape
from the stares that will judge who we are
from the expectations that we never plan to meet
this is the only time that I can belong to you.

Without thermodynamics your bath water ripples and flows with poetry,
With sweet colors of music flowering through your mind, body and spirit,
Breath flew through it,
and your interpretation soaked into the water through your body
Mind you I'm just taking a bath listening to music.

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