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Grey Feb 27
Love,romance

The commonest emotion

I've seen ,heard and felt

Pitiful if you ask me

It's beginning blinds us so

That the middle and end is a blur

Just another page we've torn of our lives

The greatest of them fall

So why bother then

It's simple

It's hope when there's non

Even the most eloquent or the majority

Do promises such pleasure

But I haven't seen one
That met such expectations

Just like our fingers

We can't be loved the same

One could be broken person

who is promised a good stitching

Other needs a sense of completion

The purpose of it is still a mystery

That its not worth holding my breath for.
Lostling Feb 25
Use me
Hurt me
Abuse me
Exploit me

But please
Don’t toss me away
I'm sorry
Mimmi Feb 24
I want to say I’m tired of me
But I know more now
Im not the hole in her shoe
I'm not the broken umbrella in the storm

When the ghost of abandonment tries to make it's presence
The tell is known by it's unbelievable burn
My soul wants to start crumbling again
My heart starts to wither per automatic

It was their choice
Maybe I wasn’t even the reason they left
Maybe I wasn’t thrown away
Or maybe I was
But its not on me
Its on the who made that decision

Im trying to remind myself of my worth
Someone’s choice shouldn’t determine my worth
It have ruled my love and brokenness for so long

I know more now
The more you know the more you are
I am more
I'm getting better. Slowly but surely I'm gaining back and a new self love
Reece Feb 7
When people ask my favorite color,
I often say red or green,
And while I adore them,
It’s a lie.
Then after the conversation,
I wonder, “Why?”
Why did I lie?
What point did it serve?
I question and question,
And this is what I can confirm.

I’m afraid,
Afraid of being judged.
Afraid of the pointed fingers,
And the laughs.
Afraid of being shunned.
Afraid of the chastisement,
And the thought of being outcast.
Why so many fears,
Stem from something so trivial?
I couldn’t answer,
It makes no sense!
Yet something so small,
Feels so consequential,
Making a mountain,
Out of a molehill.
Seems to be my speciality,
Unfortunately.

Perhaps it’s a lack of self-confidence,
So I’m bound to hide any part of me.
That way if I get insulted,
They aren’t addressing me,
Just whatever I told them,
I control the narrative.
How long can one accept,
Living their lives as someone else?
It would feel more freeing,
To stop the lies,
And tell the truth,
But is it worth the risk?
Is the exposure worth the glamour?
Is it worth…
Being me?

I remember when we all had to wear masks,
I hated it.
Yet when the main force of Covid passed,
I kept it on.
Slightly suffocating,
******* all personality,
‘Til I’m nothing,
More than,
Another face,
People pass,
Perhaps a glance,
If I’m lucky.
It’s not as simple,
As just taking the mask off,
If it was,
Do you think I would’ve kept it on?

Trapped in an overthinking mind,
Thought circling,
Swimming fast through the ocean,
No chance of escaping.
The sharks are hungry,
Ready to fill me,
With doubt,
Concern,
A lack of self-worth,
And the biggie,
Anxiety.
If I try to swim away,
I’ll be eaten alive,
Torn apart,
From the inside out.
So at least for now,
My mind is a prison and I’m never gonna get out…

Last year around my birthday,
I wrote a poem similar to this,
Titled “Am I Good Enough?”
A simple question.
I came to the conclusion that I am,
But if I hide, inside,
Is that really living life?

Some lessons that I’ve learned,
Sometimes it’s best to walk the road alone,
The road less traveled,
The road no one else goes,
But the one which will lead you home.
People aren’t always reliable,
Me included,
It’s guaranteed,
Eventually,
They’ll let you down.
And it will hurt you,
When they do,
But they’re human too.
Who make mistakes,
And have regrets,
Filled with stress,
And aren’t perfection,
Despite what they may say.

I often think,
And dread,
What people think of me,
A broken tragic thought,
Excessively haunting.
I think the consensus is,
I’m a stuck-up, narcissist,
Trapped in my own head.
They wouldn’t be entirely wrong,
But I swear,
That’s not me…
I fear that people think I’m too good for them,
So they don’t even bother to connect,
That feeling spreads, and before you know it,
There’s no one left.
In reality,
I’m not that great,
Subpar, at best,
Scraping by with gifts,
I misuse and don’t understand.

I’m painfully introverted,
My shell is very comfortable,
What’s not to love?
Then the loneliness creeps in,
And while I may be satisfied with myself,
People need connection.
Though I don’t need as much as most,
I still need connection.
Yet, I fear,
There’s few who get me,
For me.

I try not to be a pleaser,
But when you’re desperate,
And given attention,
You’d be a fool not to accept it.
Yet, most don’t have the purest intentions,
And abuse,
And misuse,
The kindness they’re given.

I’m tired of sitting in my tower,
Watching from my balcony as others shine,
Questioning if I could do the same,
If I could be half as bright.
As they say,
Sometimes you have to make a leap of faith.
So I will,
I’ll fall,
Not caring what’s below.
Isn’t it better,
To be yourself,
Rather than die a character?
I’ll land on my feet,
And run to the rest,
To prove that I’m worth,
To be in their presence.

So sayonara, somber sorrows,
Farewell, fleeting fear,
Attack, anticipatory anxiety,
And believe,
Things will be fine.
I hope you see,
That the simplest things to confess,
To the overthinking mind,
Can tear me to pieces,
With nothing left to find.

I’ll be myself,
For all I can be, is me,
And though sometimes I may despise me,
I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.
So…
My name is Reece Allen Ellison,
And my favorite color is…
Pink
Let me grow my hair,
so you won’t trace the ***** of my collarbone
like it was shaped for your gaze.
Let me drown my arms in fabric,
so a stranger’s fingers won’t twitch with hunger,
so no one will say I was asking for it.

It’s just a hand,
just a hand-
but I didn’t know a piece of me
could call out in silence,
could summon wanting
I never invited in.

Let me disappear under long sleeves,
let me vanish in loose folds,
so you won’t see the curve of my waist
and blame me for your craving.
Let me hide every inch of skin,
as if my body were a lock
and your desire the only key.

I have done everything.
Now tell me-what more should I give?
Should I carve away the flesh,
peel myself down to bone,
so you will finally see
what keeps me awake at night?

Should I hold out my wrists,
let you read the stories
written in fine white lines?
Should I turn my face,
so you can study the hollows,
the weight beneath my eyes,
the proof of all the nights
I have battled myself?

I want you to see-
to see beyond the skin,
beyond the body,
beyond the hourglass frame
that cages me inside your fantasies.

I want you to know
that I am more.
I am the ache in my own chest,
the breath I hold between words,
the voice that breaks but still speaks.

Don’t just crave my skin.
See me.
Lostling Jan 31
I didn't have a name
I had no identity
I was nothing and no one
I existed, and that was it

Until you found me
And gave me something to call my own

"Amicus"

I liked it
The way it left your lips
The way I knew it was mine
I was finally someone

Someone in your eyes
Quick poem
Delete the Text of my time – the Seconds won’t reply
Money in the Worth of time; is never worth the Money,
If all it does is Slowly eat away Pieces of your Time

No shape, but Maybe it’s shaped like your darling;
But they won't promise you the entire World

                             We live, surrounded by Time
                             Consumed by money & Wealth


The worth of self, has
Now become what
Worth
You hope to buy–
Ken Pepiton Jan 15
Learn,
learn looking back
learn looking forward, think it through
expect what you hope to happen,

peacefully reassured calm breathing
agreement with some e worship
breatheing in and breathing out, or
the other
it’s a wave you on one side
then the other
in time, we age, we float and think
at
from whence come desires
tension
- and in this space,
- this vacuum between us,
- interlinking laced up logic,
Money buts in, we say no,
we are being too old for this,
we endured to this end,
this peace we leak,
as we dry out
in the sun.

Discuss
discursive reversal one verse

universe is to verse as cycle
is unicycle, to balance my intention

- stand right up and say, see,
- inadvertently, bu'chawanna

today, I, the author of my testimony,
my conversation with life's agencies,
spoken in public dominions
my agreement,
to abide
by
line item veto, supposing my right,
by-weform we forbid my awe,
using my augmented servo-mechs,
to keep things spinning, running
as when current pushes mill wheels,

which turn drive shafts and hammer cams,
and nested gears and cogged wheels, work

once imagined done
by smart machines, work imagined
long engrained as duty to life itself, honest work.
Parsing. Roles words play
in lines. Predefined.
Tricks of the trade, easier done, expert gnosis,
old recollections
from
prepositioned standing stone landmarks,
sometimes terminii posts
of wood, good work, every year assessment work,
--- did you know Ireland was forest for a long while?
chopping trees to make those holy markers work,
it was all in those revered saints tutelary vows tied.


- seasonal but good work replacing survey stakes
- core holy ethic, honest day, honest wage,
- your attention, pleased, paid, unpleased, unpaid.
-
- \
work, the idea, affording me no escape, what is
work, the truth, Pilate asked, could answer,
what I did,
yes, imagine that,
from a witness POV,
whoever first told whoever was not there,

to see two ways, get and give, give and take,
understanding life can be misunderstood…
make believe any child faith ever used,

disbelief is easy
in the dark social milleau
under one pillar, one center pole, easy perfect
circle from one point, in mind form, spirtual point,

an idea,
slow thunk, click, lock
breathe and think how many breathe,
in as you breathe out, at rest, must be,
a we about as big as two,
idle minds at work, thinking,
value of a minute found in time,
only those bidding on others idle time
redemption value on the trade routinely
claim the idea
in
imagined,
first person POV, as seen, we hear said, so
this is all my idea
first impression preaching makes, on small
child faith that stories do come true, in dreams,

but, not really,
we imagine dreams, awake, we run the sleep code,
we thinking ourselves presorted scribal kinds,
assigned to ag whyers asking

up the ladder, if
its me

money ***** attention
from peace
omniscience immediacy points accrue
this we
of me and thee
in thought's immediacy,
no medium, two way gnosis, cognosis, breatheing
be mode middle ground
connection,
breathe-ing being
shortened or lost, caught
be gotten un gotten unsaken secret sacred ritual


breathing said each way, yawning,
obsessive both do both breathe, and

picke yergnosis

think it through, it was fun first try, nobody dies.
We laughed.
Once.
We think it goes on, so we go on,
wagwan ye'ai say bruddermike

----------------------
nomatamasa

let a name be
'pon my word,
by my own lieve, let say.

Money and time, lazy life,
good life, life in the glare

of the children addicted
to mirror neuronal dopamine
cycles,
ai, not us,
no suspense need call to
watch two minute creeps
in to co-gnosis psychosis, creepy
- skip ten ten seconds, no

space to breathe

the medium is infinite,

Kerouacean
teletype role acted digitally
projected on the one wall between us

of what ever we agree works peaceably
because we are liefers lieving being
be, as is, and this is all we offer

Peace on earth, good will toward men.
Hence forth swear not at all,
it is finished, make your peace using
truth you fact check your own self, using

tools such as this magic window,
through
which no fools dreams linger, life
seen
for me,
in my most present mind state,
individuated aspirations atained
to all myself besmirching, fine
enough is enough to share,
does not apply to hate,
but does apply to some pains.

I couldabeenacontenda, but ai win on
another ******, wery twist, feel,
won called to think I won, done,
this ties into yesterday one way, and
tomorrow the next,
and it's my time
Umami redeemed,
mushrooms as food,
savory meats,

Cain, momma's boy, many things
from a mustard seed, and an almond rod
what if Cain pleased Adam's palate?

nonono Adamhad'em
fleas need iron in meat, only carivore
he itched nose,
meat fat in the fire, roaring hunger salivate

go on, salivate your thirst, gnoshit, grow up,
become a mind spread out in parsable bits,

like Isaiah's word of god,
here a little there, for a while,
there a little here, for a while,

what were the prayers not praying in vain?

the sayings fed me said to me all along,
the worth of a satisfied mind led to ready be

such determines the worth of whatever be
done, by the time the first reader, agrees,

to read this far, I think next time, enjoyment

is three words indeed, done is done,
never done is never done, that's the line

that's the line, parsed indexed someday
slouching past the last myths standing.

no
hard feelings, artiste,
we all make up and wax
poetic in our efforts as users
of words, weform from the media
conjoining our screened experience

today I saw a motto, so now,
I MAY, should I choose, or wish,
I may find that motto and use it,  here:

Ready to fight tonight,
while preparing for the fight tomorrow.

Must be the mission mentioned
in the real motto:
“One Island, One Team, One Mission.”
'This phrase encapsulates the spirit
and unity that
defines the operations
on Diego Garcia,
emphasizing collaboration
and a shared purpose
among all personnel stationed there.'
There,
-- or any other war
for good ideas place.
Planning tomorrow, today,

ai, but not
on our watch, eh
we make each breathe a thanks
I am alive, by all the good there is.

Heavy art's ache, weight a minute's worth,

what can one do, in time,
after many believe,

yesterday through to tomorrow
is at the moment as has been ordained,
indeeds individual deeds deigned gnosis

ai, therefore, heretics believe gnosis uses
us to think easy
tricks us into easy
peaceful breathe and swallow, verify zone

safe, check

feedback, sub humm, 5wpm beeps waves
signal per micromanaged vagus loop decisions

arteries and veins, one blood, one mind,
one body equipped
with an autonomous
muse using adaptability extending cold
fingers./.in a room where my breath
is not misty cold fingercup blown
into breath

The idea universal
breathe
once
big, once small, once a nothing, once
a king, it truly meant every thing matters,
or nothing happens to disturb the peace,
this very one, you may feel,
we keep year round,
it won't be getting too cold again soon,
so we make some peace each day,
take some time, wrap it a bit,

blow into cold hands, old friend's spirit,
memory, huachamacallit, mindjoymaker,

idea, in a name, being, Huan'gwan thunk.

So, monstors, as rampant as on television,
psychically exist, and we displace them,

whose duty - eh -
who is honor bound,
¿?-8  read in on the ends…
great codes were broken, oaths
of aliegiance
to the representative,
on real islands
those stationed there, put there
follow the protocols, the drill

motto
of our immediate corporeal commanders
of our betters
at the judgement bars
as we all count
on nnnand appeals forever
real in reality and real in corporeal
are the very same real in life
lieb blieben doch
in a word form, time spent, invested
thinking word's function fun junk, tested

passed, understanding this is a peak,
passing on a wave, and at this point,

it feels edgy,
inner bubble barrier… boiling

evaporating, breathe holding breathe
evaporation on purpose, smoke,

taken, used mused to saying, so, breath
taken was mine, a bit, once, at least,
hold that, there
so there, can we be friends
in function, aspire conspire inspire
no story oaths bound to us, by now, bro,

you are a blasphemer
of the spirit, keepin' me alive, humm,
you think, and breathe and think it not true,

you laugh,
it feels good, things
can seem to easy become,

lucky, light
in the night
to guide us,

at your worst would you have
this much attention to devote to a whim?

common good, safe wood feeling,
park like,

we know whose woods these are,
safe
this is where the weather works whether
you like it or not, so,

if you think prayer works, think about time,
and patterns
of never seen
before your time,

so many things never seen are now tools
used
to do this,
to think
together
after my time is mind, yes, mind

may has been my word, ai say I may and
I do as I pleaded, please, let me be

reunderstood.

LIFE ramificates,
in deed,
in word, imagine
adulting as a child, wild in mind, in time

imagine being that personal best, once
be the you from then to now, and see,
- look really then to now, and see
was any war between these points,
reasonable on any judgement format,

¿no?

Though your misconnections
be crusted with oxides excited
clinging to one positive terminal,
reasonable meaning in balances push,
to fill a hollow holy gnoshit we never thunk

ying yang thang thunk anewn. A hole. Newn.
If you read this far you are stubborn or carefree, I was fishing for carefree in a sharable format, like a sneezable viral idea, hey, think this, it ties a knot,
to a hook you had// so thanks/
Lilith Jan 8
Worth it

Nobody knows how empty my smile is.
I fell for him.
Though he treats me like I’m no one.
And like I’m everything in his stare.
We were so free, so honest.
I like him.
I’ve never let a man use me this way.
His personal plaything when she ignores him.
Using me to get her attention and I let him.
We are so flawed, so stupid.
She’s never letting go.
I want him.
The drama we caused, for life to resume... unchanged.
The fairy tales we fell for, long gone.
The promises we broke, just to be noticed.
Still not heard.
Was it worth it?
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