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FRITZ Jul 10
I.

smile and drop the facade

tune into your suffering and lie to yourself

he's lying                         (watch his lips move)

take whats mine

take the pulse under my skin

**** it all away

                                                           ­ i just need one more day

II.

half pack of cigarettes no wrapper

next to the body of a man fallen from his masturbators

walls plastered with the back of his head and a

dead body saturating in excrement

gun on the floor one casing spent

wasn't long ago he sat there smoking

one burning red fountain is sick 96¢.

the hole they put him in cost

4000 rounds.

III.

open your mouth and ignore the

scorched mounds dissipating into the wind

your whisper your breath your flesh

go they all go

c'est la vie.
R18+ I guess.
depict May 26
Because some stupid beanie babe wants fame. One cake against one life.
Thanks.

It's better you stay in your tussi worlds. And close the murs.
From Iran.
Chris Feb 24
Just look down.
You zee your keyboard?
What finger haz the hardezt time?

You're pinky.
You're pinky izn't az ztrong.
But it'z left to prezz zo many buttonz.

Which includez Z.
How many wordz iz it uzed in?
Not nearly az many az you'd think, or hope.

Why iz Z zuch a dizcarded letter?
It zoundz a lot like S and opperatez a lot the zame.
It'z main difference iz the change in it'z look.

Z iz far more zimpliztic.
Three linez. Nothing more, nothing lezz.
S however, uzez one curved line. Harder to learn.

Why doezn't Z get it'z time?
Why can't we juzt give a day for Z?
Or azzociate it with more than juzt bad zombie moviez.
Enjoy
Rowan Feb 6
Solicited news runs on a treadmill,
and drips from the mug reading
Captured in Words
full of things i don’t want to know,
another ******, another corrupt business,
another hate crime, another attack,
another school shooting, another ****,
another another another another another
It’s a loop i want to cancel out with my bluetooth headphones
while glaring at the world making assumptions
on my appearance.
Listening to the only music that makes me feel heard,
that makes the hungry, the crying, the insane feel
heard.
Can’t you hear me? The screams echoing around the empty
walls fabricated by your enthusiasm for |||||||||||||| Cages.
When i find the sanity i crave, you label it childish,
that i find hope in a face on the screen
what is wrong with you that you must also take away
what i cannot give myself?
Feed into the lies, feed into the apathy,
fed up with the screams and the silence,
you ask where i stand?

i lay on a path riddled with thorns
under a scorching, searing light
but i am not allowed to die

and you ask,
why i see a bleak future
or none at all.
FRITZ Dec 2018
what strange secret shattered and charged

a mighty foe with the wings on a blast

but bituminous the glow and from hell

dangerous to think things ringing in your ears

slip into a still watch it slip through

your fingers like sand through a sieve.



under-swept and as said so differencing from distance softer than you could sea

the skies

                watching the clo(u)ds collide.

couldn't pull back an escapist so fled the paint into a sick barrel of venom.



                               dis

                                app

                       ­            ear



listen to the end

quiet and seek through thunder

clouding your minds scrambled thick and ****** slick.



                this is not about them the things are as he said.
every day, seven times a day, a torture.
FRITZ Dec 2018
walk with me through windows and pull the flowers from my head.
you are a lovely ghost of decomposition.

you are a ghost past the bones and past the flesh. you have no mouth anymore.

there you go again, floating out past ascending Saturn. chasing your own tail and eating your neck again.

empty space floating away why do you accept to this fate so readily?

cracked blue glasses and old blood stains. is that you?
rebecca Oct 2018
Z
ruffled caramel hair you always mess with
eyes with a hundred beautiful blue hues I can't fully describe
a warm laugh that makes your voice sparkle
perfect lips I long to tough with mine
a heart that cares, that loves, that beams
a spirit that loves the Lord
a sort of gritty, not-too-low-or-too-high voice
limbs that dance with her
with her small size and shape
her long brown, perfectly curled hair
in a short, white dress that shimmers in the starlight
her muscular legs that chase a useless sphere every weekend
not with my thick silhouette
my short mom-ish hair
a dress I got in a size 1... from the plus sized store
my short chubby **** self
my fine art passions with meanings and flame
no
you chose her
she hasn't loved you
I have

for a year you didn't see
"I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say, there's a way for us"

mood
In my homeroom class, we don't have a seating chart.
But I still sit as far away from the door as I can.
Subconsciously it's probably because of a school shooting.
I've been anticipating one to strike at my small high school for a couple years now.
It's probably because of a lock down we had a couple years ago when I was still in middle school.
There were armed men on campus.
We had to be silent for hours.
I was in choir at the time.
Over 100 of us were squeezed into a small space.
There were girls crying,
my best friend was holding my hand,
I was having an anxiety attack.
I was only thinking
"Please not today..."

I'm not surprised anymore.
When another school is in the news,
it's deeply upsetting
but not surprising.
It's all I've ever known.
The Columbine High School shooting happened in 2001.
I was born a year later.
I've never actually known peace in this country...
FRITZ Jul 2018
contusion clouds burst confusions under the sound.

underground, through the air, and softer the sea.

     a pond a barrier to you and to me

          song as sweet and stiffened at the



                                                         fireflies and jello eyes watching shyly

                              your fingers are blue and ivory they burn in the light

                 song as sweet as the purple dew in the crook of your fingers



                    you are told as strong as sand

                                    you are rock

                    you are clinging to rock atoms

                                      be honest

                     you are shrapnel arriving early and departing late.
focusing on the notions of "Reluctance."
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