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#adaptation
Expanding flesh, bending genetics diluting time, blurring natural order. A slowed pressure, spreading across bodies, fractions of mutations, cleaving cells, accumulated by design. Pushes us forward; an unending growth, towards all directions, unfolding our forms, layer by layer. Stretched to fit a world unfavored; an invisible process of the mind, sustained integration, in fear of erasure. Shifting through shapes to outlive the laws of nature, to beat the odds of existence. Change is our survival. Our very fabric of being— ever adapting; ever advancing.
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Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 4:21 PM UTC
Morphology
Here's to fake love for an hour or two Falling and quickly getting back up is modern-day-adaptation
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Dec 26, 2025
Dec 26, 2025 at 9:45 AM UTC
Fake
She is so sweet and nice Always ready to give beneficial advice The height of posh society Not an ounce of impropriety Everything a lady should be She is courteous and kind A lady refined She is never heard To utter a disrespectful word According to all, she is perfection And doesn’t draw attention But as the sun sets & the moon arises She takes off her disguises In her room she sits alone Where her true self is shown Her sweet, lady-like, smile The smile of a crocodile She is cruel to the core Greedy, always wanting more Every advice is with malice intent Her staff members live in torment For if they even give the slightest glance They are whipped then fired without a second chance She must have all the latest things from Italy to France Her poor, old father must work double time to cover the finance When doing a good deed she expects a favor returned And you better do it or face getting spurned If she appears to be perfect, yet a little shady Its best to stay clear of this evil young lady As you will quickly and brutally learn How spiteful and vindictive she will turn And she will once again put on her disguises in the morning So be weary & wise by her disguise as I give you this warning She may appear innocent and sweet But down deep, she is the worst person you will ever meet.
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Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 3:24 PM UTC
Behind Her Mask
It was never a walk in the park to try and fit in the niche, Patterns altered, Values allocated differently, Galaxies were spun, Poles far apart - When I turned into you. Your algorithm modified, Borders merged, goals changed, But, the race starts again, An endless search to find a place.
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Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 5:25 AM UTC
"The Algorithm That Keeps Changing"
Nothing made me angrier than when You expected the best from me and I Felt like it was unfair, and I couldn’t do What everyone else could, that I didn’t Have the tools, that this was a race but I was positioned behind the Starting line. I thought you didn’t understand. And you didn’t. But you pushed me farther than I thought I could go, you told me that I could do it— That I had to. You held me to that same gold standard, On the bad days and the good days and The days in between, you never wavered And you never gave me the option to Quit. So I ran that race, and I ran it fast I sprinted and leaped and speeded past Everyone else, despite where I started, And all I could feel was the rush in the air, The breath in my veins and the wind in my hair, The power of my stride, the power of my will, The strength of my wholeness, this strength I could feel, And every time, I thought I could not do it. You did not know my pain— Yet you pushed me right through it.
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Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 7:14 PM UTC
Push
They are the drops of rain in an island as you ride through a storm on a motorbike. The coconuts falling down your head on a quiet beach. They are the songs and poems addressed to or meant to attack politicians. They are slippery rocks on a river and the current of a whirlpool for the heavy steps of the enemies. And they are the soft cashmere carpet and the fine, powdery sands for the careful steps of my lovers.
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Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 3:32 AM UTC
My Kisses Are Not Gentle (After Mayamor)
Haven't even shed Crocodile tears Calloused feet and scaled back, the tear and wear. Biting wildly and deeply into what feeds me That desperation is the toll it has me in a death roll This whirlwind of drip grit and flames; while spinning in the mud I can have no shame. My pride deluded me to think of myself as an ancient king of lakes and streams. Watering holes or beachfront property On a sunny day, my kind knows harmony We only know war At the movement of opportunity. A Petty precarious peace treaty: Survival of the fitness; closed mouths don't get fed Survival instinct; if you don't eat you'll be the one who loses an arm and a leg How can I even shed Crocodile tears When I've become the dread
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Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 3:32 PM UTC
Creature of De-nile
In jolts my bones erupt, shatter and realign within flesh contorted, waxen; until amorphous I return, to draw up the covers of that old snakeskin.
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Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:20 PM UTC
(re)Turning
Sometimes one needs to Dim the light to be in The abyss world No, no brighter sun over there Just because That world is grey And greyness is What they are used to What they prefer Normality In their sense Offering light Even a trace May leads to blindness And yes You don't want to Blind them Yet that light Is love
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Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 7:25 PM UTC
Adaptation
If there’s one lesson you learn, let it be that- Nature is not weak, and you are nature
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Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 11:10 AM UTC
Redwoods
And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal, There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour - I did grab my last chance at God to finally feel, But after all those fights and battles, I still was proven dour. Never - I felt myself winning in Death's game of chess; Even if, I was sometimes pridefully smiling, Just as like children feeling proudly after doing a remarkable mess; I wanted to prove myself on Earth while God has been hiding. All time - I left behind the ridiculous faces, Painted with pious spirituality from random rapturous riddles That might fuddle the painful slaves on his laces To hear the scream of Death as dance-starting fiddles. Oh, no - I said: Away with all the physicality, Give me rather knowledge on my own - at least to know - Who is God and who is Evil if they are real in reality, To know, these faked battles against Death were not shallow. All time, I've been annoyed on my road, Though, it wasn't Death bothering me but my own emptiness, While others had thousands of funny wishes implored, I only wished to fetch up with my boredom and lonliness. Never, I gave up to call the fate upon suffering fights, To know, whether I would bear another hit - another blow, Then, for sure it's my final destiny to hear how it invites: Come, it's the end. I know you've become so tired for now. And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal, There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour - And God has been silence all since I've been able to hear, Say, what's the fate of such a terribly deaf and faithless soul? "S.D.G" (Soli Deo Gloria) — "To God Alone the Glory"
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 2:34 AM UTC
The Seventh Seal
And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal, There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour - I did grab my last chance at God to finally feel, But after all those fights and battles, I still was proven dour. Never - I felt myself winning in Death's game of chess; Even if, I was sometimes pridefully smiling, Just as like children feeling proudly after doing a remarkable mess; I wanted to prove myself on Earth while God has been hiding. All time - I left behind the ridiculous faces, Painted with pious spirituality from random rapturous riddles That might fuddle the painful slaves on his laces To hear the scream of Death as dance-starting fiddles. Oh, no - I said: Away with all the physicality, Give me rather knowledge on my own - at least to know - Who is God and who is Evil if they are real in reality, To know, these faked battles against Death were not shallow. All time, I've been annoyed on my road, Though, it wasn't Death bothering me but my own emptiness, While others had thousands of funny wishes implored, I only wished to fetch up with my boredom and lonliness. Never, I gave up to call the fate upon suffering fights, To know, whether I would bear another hit - another blow, Then, for sure it's my final destiny to hear how it invites: Come, it's the end. I know you've become so tired for now. And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal, There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour - And God has been silence all since I've been able to hear, Say, what's the fate of such a terribly deaf and faithless soul? "S.D.G" (Soli Deo Gloria) — "To God Alone the Glory"
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There is a difference between pretence and adaptation Your mind constantly in motion Emotions, Rising up to the occasions Changing, Depending on different sitiations. ... To the British I speak English To the Polish, I speak Polish To the rich, I’m rich And not just in manner of speech It's not pretence It just makes sense Adapting to every situation A constant change with diverse emotions Not just an illusion There are established illustrations ... To everything there are two sides Upsides and downsides What I call adaptation Some call pretence When I give an illustration Some come to my defence My aspiration to be better than I am My conviction to change who I am Has turned into deception Leaving behind frustration. ... The constant changes has its effect Some might call it a defect Just like trying to learn 10 languages at the same time In the end all you have is half-baked knowledge not worth a dime. A current situation To which there is no solution Adapt?   Or pretend? You decide if this is a upside, Or a down side. In the end, a position you must take, “I am Half-baked.”
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:22 AM UTC
Half Baked
Am I losing you? I feel like I am... maybe it's just because we don't talk as much anymore and whenever we do it's catching up and then silence we make jokes reminisce on the crazy **** we did and laugh our ***** off        too much for the joke itself        but if we stop laughing— what then? so we reminisce some more You were always one of my closest friends..        maybe not my best friend, but you were always there We did everything together, our group. The Boys. Our Group. now i see you twice a year and each time is less frequent than the last And I'm not ready to let you go.        maybe it's because i know i don't have anyone else like you        definitely don't have anyone else like you        and i forget how to make friends        the new ones aren't as good I don't do well with change.        i'll text you occasionally and talk about the unimportant stuff        but that spark that united us to begin with is gone        you've changed. i've changed Our worlds are different now So what do we have left to connect us? i don't do well with change
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 2:09 AM UTC
College
locked up in my head Taking turn to the mirror I can see a face instead That has been much clearer When I was still in my head When I knew where I was heading But things happen and things change I see time floating away And every cigarette lands in the ashtray feels like throwing away time of the days When I am supposed to show gratitude to my dna We will grow old that is for sure What I didn’t know that life is still a long, long journey Roads need to be walked without insecurity Like an elephant in the jungle Be kind and stay humble first learn how to be kind to yourself because the magic will outgrow As impressions will get into you And not soon enough you see that there is nothing in-between how you once were thinking and the person that you’re being How do I, how do I go back to times like that When I was still in my head My head was all mine No threat to my shine Now I feel dead I lied to myself
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 11:26 AM UTC
congrats to my dna