#atypical
At 1:01, break
Passed a bit ago, late day
Per the usual
Mar 13, 2021
Mar 13, 2021 at 10:20 AM UTC
Just because I was forced to make myself appear normal to everyone else.
Doesn't mean I am normal.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
I wanted to be Normal
But I was atypical by nature
Genetic predispositions that I couldn't control
Or could I?
Everyone else argued that it was that I was broken
That I could be fixed
Converted
I wanted to be normal because they said that I could
They said that I wanted to be normal
It didn't matter that I was comfortable in my skin
It was that they never could accept me
But it didn't work
If I was broken?
Then why does it now feel like I'm falling apart?
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC
Give me just two of your fingers, it is more frisky;
When excited why act out platonically.
Skin me;
No need to falsify.
Your small hands hold an ocean, then tide me;
Send more white horses to step on my rocky heart;
Of course, sunk already.
Not a submerged foreign object;
Down there I am a reef;
Living for eons, heartily.
You are dear as nature.
I am thirsty, near which slippery cliff is your river.
In the ocean of your hands;
I am fished.
As time passes by, I am more aware of you;
I feel the ocean is not a piece of you;
It is you.
It is like you are offering yourself.
Why is it pellucid?
I can see miles away;
Miles away a dissolving wine.
Your mother calls you;
A crystal big cat emerges from your ocean.
A friend calls you;
You shut your eyes.
Noone comes around.
I notice that I am going to hear a sound;
I hear it, coming from far-flung;
Makes you more chaotic.
Vortical eyes.
Your face is too hot;
It starts to boil;
Rivers come out of your eyes and mouth;
Pouring into your ocean.
No overflow.
What do you represent?
What if you are an atypical?
What do you remind me of?
A bare white-bluish waterfall who offers everything has got?
You have mentioned me in your genome, with a deep shade.
Unclad is an old-hat, we should reveal what we have inside;
By playing with locks.
Suggest me, l will romance you.
Your touch reminds me of the untold.
You freeze, no flow, like it was in the cards.
Your scent, strange.
I should leave to buy.
I hover around you.
My vulnerable bare;
It is up to me to protect you.
I should leave to buy a huge opaque.
I couldn't find my clothing and shoes;
Can I wear yours? Is it weird?
I hear from the neighbouring flat, someone crying in the bath.
You start to tilt and smudge like you were a design on a rug;
I fold it;
Put it in a suitcase;
And leave to exit.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
What is left to say,
at the end of the day?
Loneliness left to spare,
or words that contaminate air?
Why am I always caught chasing clouds?
Caught off guard not holding ground,
weakness the center of attention shall oppose.
I stay away,
since my apologies I often pay.
I never understood your intentions,
through your walls I can't see clear.
I never will say a word,
for my mind is always blurred.
And although my speech always slurred,
you were also quite absurd.
Abuse isn't always easy to accept.
Especially if it's not to expect.
Whether verbal or physical,
the bond is atypical.
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 9:39 PM UTC
typically "typical"
is thought predictable
where typical types
emerge in the syllables
man = white = **** you! = no **** right?
girl = cis = delicate ≠ this.
type up the typology
categorize into "ologies"
start stereotyping
to support the philosophies
f(i) = she = sweet ≠ me
∴ ***** i must be
draw a box around me ⇒ i'll fit
type up a label ⇒ it'll stick
but ≠ me
= us = we
is that the type of person
you want to be?
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
Some fairytales are meant to stay in our storybooks, this world unable to nurture their power.
You could have and would have been my destiny; but instead you will be the one thing that will burn at me like an open wound in the Dead Sea for eternity.
A wise man once told me, “It is always the most complex and meaningful relationships that will never work out”.
You are both my complex and my meaning, so, I guess,
that’s just that.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
I'm just
I can't feel my lips
on my face
so still
i cant move them
on their own
i can't tell if they are parted
i can't tell if they exist
i can't feel my hips or
my feet, or my lefs
i can't move them
i can't feel them
i want to break
i want all of the confusion, the disconnectedness
i can cry
but i can't escape this
and i can't can't escape this
there is no break
a million scattered shattered steps
stood stunning
chameleon flattered
I can't move.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6n_z-FdEkw&feature;=youtu.be
^unlisted
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC