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Derrick Jones Mar 16
I got so many feelings they leave me reeling, stealing second after second because I’m the first to leave and the last to go, too guarded to believe and too frozen to flow.

Words cut into thirds and still too long to belong but too short to be strong,

I’m not tough I’m all bluff and all guff  I know stuff but not enough
Hands cuffed and shoes scuffed I’m too rough easily rebuffed and left puffed

I hope one day I find a way to be alone and okay but for now my skies are gray even on sunny days and like the waves I know I’ll eternally return but for now I burn, endless fire and pain a pyre without rain burning forever, chains I cannot sever no matter how clever I spit my wit aint **** in the big mitt.

Held in the hands of the One but no lifeline comes so I feel like I’m being burned in the sun, taxed like earned income, vexed like an anti-vaxxer with a sneezing son, fried by having too much fun and lied to by myself as I lie down in the sun, shoulda used suncreen but my burned skin screams and my broken dreams teem around the edges of a vessel losing steam, engines down and shields almost depleted, if this is Star Trek than I’m a red shirt being yeeted, if it’s a contest I’m this close to defeated, a few feet more and I’m off the shore, swept away in the ocean and no potion can stop this downward motion more than gravity seized by the sea I see no light to swim toward so I get floored, and at the bottom I grab a shovel and start to dig, maybe if I lean in to my demise I’ll be able to fantasize that this was a choice, that I have a voice, that I’m more than another skeleton swallowed by time in the end, I got the bends I sank too fast and even if I try to rise again the nitrogen will do me in, so why the hell should I even try when I could just lie here lying to myself, another bottle off the shelf another twisted elf helping me help myself abandon wealth and fall into deprivation, depraved agitation with no sanitation, ***** not clean nice and mean like mice and men I’ve gone awfully awry and I’m not shy enough to hide my shame so in these words I confide, some part of me awake for the ride while the rest sleeps in the tide, hoping the waves take me home, soma holiday the only way I’ll feel okay, my soma and germ both squirm with the ancestral trauma I spurned until it churned into a calamity inside of me that consumes me in gloom and doom until there is no room to do anything else but retreat back to the waiting room womb.

I typed that in one breath but still death would not save me from myself, this is not a cry for help this is more like a review on yelp, my life review is five out of five in the shine and naught out of who cares when the rain lays me bare, and cold and alone my flashlight shone on white bone and rotting flesh, death so everpresent it’s like christmas every day oh yay I hope my sarcasm forces a giggle from a lip so that this eclipse lifts for the briefest second, a glimpse at the life I could have had but somehow missed, the mist covers my eyes, first second and third, and the bird’s eye view tells me I’m *******, but when I look from the floor, well that view ***** more, so I guess ******* less would mean success, but the report card is hard to care about when I carted out my art so long ago, I started out with eyes on the throne now I’d **** to throw myself a bone and feel like there was a hope I could atone or find a road to home.

Tones bring me joy, music from the noise, something I wish I could make but I feel deaf and dumb when I try so I numb myself with wine until I’m fine to eat off the vine that others planted, feeling like a waste of space I wish I could face my fears, face to the mirror without my eyes wide shut, but the feeling in my gut is like a rifle **** slammed by a soldier, the pain surges and smolders, aching shoulders make it hard to stand straight, grated down like cheddar I used to be better than this now I’m a sweater poorly knit, a useless *** and a hub of useless code that would erode the minds of better men if they let my poison seep in, so I keep myself at a distance, I witness, hide my mental fitness and put on airs to win the princess.

I’m sorry I stole your heart you should have never let it part from your chest because now I confess I come off like the best but I am cursed to sometimes be the worst, an endless thirst I cannot slake, relentless life I cannot take, smiles I no longer fake because the weight finally ground me down to nothing in the end, nothingness my final gift to lend I guess I’ll just make space until I finally find erasure, the sweet bliss of death’s kiss will launch me to the next great adventure, returned to sender, smart like Ender my heart was rendered fully now it’s rended dully, blunt knives hack apart ventricles that used to start a beat that moved my feet, but now like lead I feel less alive than dead, and hope for resurrection is my only real direction.

Someone give me sign. Help me climb. Remove my blinds. Remind me of the path to the divine.
Mark Wanless Dec 2024
super ego was
created by ego and
we are here now wow
bucketb0t Nov 2024
necromance inscape escape patience
albino Buckethead assault
nuts bucketbots' bolts
slug BucketheadLand vault
dark arhaic magic pick

Omen Wow
An ode/tribute to a bucketbot that tributes Buckethead by making music in his instrumental, non-existing style. The title of the poem is the title of my favorite song from his works, where the one-man band is called Plectomancer.
I S A A C Jul 2024
why why why
i cannot get into your mind
too distracted, too kludgy
humbled me three times
too busy running
why why why
i cannot seem to ever find
the solace in solo expeditions
deficit without you by my side
too busy running
from my pretty eyes
WoW
You took me to all of your favorite places
Showed me around your home town
Introduced me to your mother
You fed me
You held me
We made plans
We made dinner
You lied to me
You threw me away
You made me feel like I was crazy
You told me it was my fault
You told me I wasn't good in bed
Like you didn't tell me
That my body was beautiful
"Pay attention to my actions"
See what you want to see
"I still care about you"
I'm going to keep you until I don't need you
Mateah Mar 2024
It’s amazing how another human
Can change the way you see.
When you really know somebody else
You’ll find that they’re a “me.”

You find out that the thoughts they have
Are also never ceasing.
And the list of things you learn from them
Will always be increasing.

You learn their inner monologue
As if it were your own,
You hear the fine print of their brain
In their voices pitch and tone.

This person is as detailed
As you know yourself to be.
Their story is as known to them
As the wind is to a tree.

A being who can ponder
Who can think beyond the concrete.
The vast expanse of ideas in one mind
Makes the body seem obsolete.

The depth of all reality,
Something immeasurable,
Is captured in the inner workings
Of this thing that is a soul.

A person who was just someone
Can become much more than “he,” or “she.”
You’ve truly grasped some wisdom
When you see that person as a “me.”

And even more enlightening
Are the thoughts that might occur
When you contemplate that there are
8 billion “Me,”s on this earth.
I S A A C Mar 2024
22
birthday, birthday
22 years spent in orbit
looking for the treasure in golden moments
hoping i am deserving as destiny’s unfolding
tired of withholding, fasting from my motives

birthday, birthday
sunken thoughts from the optimistic ship
smiles can only get you so far, as far as this
recline into decline into the abyss
growing is the acceptance of this
Descovia Nov 2023
These words that have pull and plunge your being into an intense trip. Watch the words, fly off the page and take you through time faster than any Uber or Lyft.
For this neat little trick, we employ the words that grip.
The ones that squeeze and then some that suddenly hold until the reader drips. Fill their bottle with a cuffing concoction, with every verse, they'll take a sip!
Descovia joined forces with Alma/Rota to deliver a compelling masterpiece for genius minds!
Anais Vionet Sep 2023
You’ve probably seen them everywhere,
the grinning, happy, carefree teenagers,
mere children really.

I’m not a teenager anymore.
I started missing it last week,
because I knew I was losing it,
like a lover at the moment of separation.

Have I lost the fantastic glow of youth?
Maybe shrug
I know I’ve lost a lot of excuses,
“She’s just a teenager,” they used to say.

Well, they can’t say that after today.
Click.
‘Cause I’m a twenty-year-old
or am I a twenty-something?
I can’t wait to read the manual.

20, God, I feel so grown up.
lucy-goosey Aug 2023
her boogie woogie,
boot and scoot.
her goo bosh vibe,
so small and cute.
silly little Anju stomp,
unaware of self.
bite taken from a chocolate,
stolen from a shelf.
when we are free from this life
we will run in fields
and see the sunset and the joy
life with you yields.
for my love ♥️😳😻💀🍀
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