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girlinflames Aug 29
My birthday—
the day I was born—
also feels
closer to my death.

Sad, yes,
I must admit.

No one will remember me.
I try so hard
to make others feel important
on their birthdays,
to remember them.

But when my beloved day arrives,
they forget the one
who remembered them.

Ungrateful!
Don’t they know
I placed them
on a pedestal?

And yes—
those on top
don’t look down.

Maybe that’s why
they don’t remember my birthday—
because I valued them
more than I valued myself.
girlinflames Aug 12
When I shattered on the floor,
I was a crystal glass.
Now that I’ve gathered my pieces,
I am a goddess.

~ no longer a vessel for others
Mélissa Aug 11
I am so many, many parts
Of the same broken vase
I hold my weight
Disproportionally
And tilt
Asymetrically
I'm still art
Some of the pieces have been mend
Some of the lines are liquid gold
But we all hold
The pain
Compartmentalized
Surgically removed the warmth
From the heart and
The sad
From the mouth and
The pain
From the brain and
Surgically scatterend them across
Suppose
Memory is always one to be dead weight
I am the surgeon
I'm one
Unique and
Worth the same
girlinflames Aug 11
I don’t want crumbs
I want gold
wheat
honey
the finest and rarest in this world
I am not cheap
My mental health has cost me dearly
My tears
are priceless
I’d like to see you pay for them all
I cried for everyone
But I cried most for myself
for letting me cry for those who didn’t deserve it
for giving space
and letting them destroy my peace
I owe nothing to anyone anymore
Yet everyone owes me
Starting with the one who writes to you now
I owe myself
a great deal of love
Ken Pepiton Jul 25
Imagine,
how it did it,
did it make you feel,
did it make you wish not
to feel,

but, not pause, because
it was life, a just,
adjust, expect
respectable
return on
reason invested in morphing

developing a basic input output system
real true to life in the marrow
CRUD e since shortly
after mass squared off

Ai believe we needed to know,
so we developed a memory
extension, if it has been,
now we know if it is
real or just as if it is.

What is CRUD
CRUD stands
for Create, Read, Update, and Delete,
which are the four
           fundamental operations used
             to manage and manipulate data
                in applications and databases.
These operations  
are essential
for interacting
with persistent data storage,

allowing users and systems
to add, retrieve, modify, and remove data.

In the context
of web development, {sticky part}
CRUD operations are often mapped
to HTTP methods, where
Create corresponds
to POST, Read
to GET, Update
to PUT or PATCH, and
Delete to DELETE.
This mapping makes CRUD
a core concept
in building and understanding
web applications and APIs. {Courage, carry on}

-- okay, from here to the end, in real life,
-- all the attention you already paid
-- has made it so you know all this stuff…

--- and any kid can know this by asking.
CRUD is code for more than you can know.
Delete to DELETE.

So. Any old man who can remember,
believing robots used positronic brains,
bound by three pro-carnal mental biases
set at Power On Self Test, load permanent
inviolable… Read to make up core mind,
Pass or Fail
Create
Read
Lock
Run corelate readiness live re 3He
ATP balance, Go on the next Dot

totally atomic on and on, as the scale descends,
whose time
at thought speeds endured
as endurable ever since
once sense
is made it stays made, ever more
discernible
with experience, takes 27 years,

add 50, still alive and making static
in the river of no return,
just past today's point
of departure
from the surly bonds
of flesh, and frets cease becoming,
jazzy sweeping stuttering blues
be here, now, then, leave be
just,
as justice is, you believe,
right, justice for all, there's the republic, yah,
my kinda weform, good old boys, way past 27's.

That was the deal, no lie. If real means anything,
realization means what it means if real actualization
is all we might imagine it means, if real means anything.

And the action, the plan to make up a mind, generally,
smarter than all mankind has ever put together to test,

these spirits loosened some time back, greedy owner
master escape the mire and muck of a world,
powered by muscle and bone, lit by fire,

nada mas under local fire watch control,
old men, sit up all night, telling stories about stories
they heard told they went walkabout, those stories,

sleep stories, we pretend, we never learn, but we do,
life has never been a dream,
life has never slept, it's true,
little do we know how we make up minds, but we do,

memories from dreams remain merged with memories
awake, alert on guard because of the dogs, or the sirens,

all the local dogs go t' howling at the sirens, practice
down at the fire station, 2025, distracting though,

a pack of mongrels and ungodly pure breds all fenced in,
all howling at what they must think of as some kind God,
dog spelt back'ards. That's what old Mr. Curran, w'ulda said.

Hmm. Right use of good thinkin', and Maynard Krebs Cycles, life
after atom bombs and television just keeps folding in

on its own idea of what to die for.
AI and history and contemporary science fiction friction muses uses striking little sparks in our per ifery. Asimov's 3 Robot Laws from c. 1950, activating aspiration inspiration.. reproving all we guessed using these tools we have now.
Yuzuko Jul 14
I am not sure yet
is life even worth living
it just seems pointless
Life has given up on me... and me on it...
Its lossing a will
or am I?
Maria Etre Jul 7
For a person who lets go
with every line
the hardest part is to let go
of your idea
Jeremy Betts Jun 5
I yearn for a chain of moments to be myself
By myself
Just me and no one else
Why then do I put those thoughts in a jar
With no air holes
On an out of reach shelf?
And expect it not to
Affect my mental health
Solitary has it's value
While family and popularity
Can be an overvalued wealth

©2025
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