#blunt
I learned to read anger before I learned to read books,
every slammed door sounded exactly like my name.
My father spoke in wounds disguised as “lessons,”
and somehow I still waited for him to say he was proud.
At dinner, the silence sat heavier than the plates,
his words cutting through me like they were born rehearsed.
“Useless,” became a nickname I answered to too quickly,
while my mother stared at the table like prayer could save me.
Now grown, I still flinch when people raise their voices,
still apologize for things that were never my fault.
Because some fathers do not break your bones
they break the mirror you use to see yourself.
7d ago
May 27, 2026 at 1:52 PM UTC
am i over you or just high
i smoke now to get by
6 months sober
then 4 blunts and red eyes
time changes and resets timelines
do you speak of me
smoke me out like s a g e
can you hear my frequency
panic alerts of hurts and dependency
whatever works, whatever burst
wake and bake my memory
whatever stings, whatever hurts
numbing is my remedy
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 2:22 PM UTC
Letters not sent
Words untouched by hands,
There is no softer gaze,
Opening radiant ways
With rapid pulse of breaths,
In spoken sentences.
The invisible margin of lost attention.
I saw unsettling light,
The sun glinting on the window,
An ordinary building across the street
And an elusive, surreal reflection
Of a blurred sphere, not giving warmth.
I stare at this distorted image,
Wanting to endure it directly,
Longer than I could bear,
In a motionless pause
The side effects of this manifestation.
My eyes were slightly closed
To hug the contours of an unclear shape.
The luminosity from a distance
Safely stays at a fragile layer,
So as not to freeze and not to burn
Before the piercing, conclusive truth.
Being for so long and perfectly alone.
So many hours punished by the silence,
The long days in tamed anger,
Waiting for relief,
All those good wishes in letters were never sent.
The gleams turned in the blunt, painful light.
Just two living spheres and a clear, cold glass
In the ocean of rigid duties,
A star’s slow implosion,
Reshaped colorful memories, grasping at remains.
The vivid balloon with the air gone—
No longer flying above our heads.
Nothing else, just indifference that forgot
How it used to cry.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 5:14 PM UTC
You are the Love that I Remember,
You melt me through Aeons of Winter.
You make me the blazing Djinn,
You make me the Christ without Sin.
You are the Cure for The Cold
and my love is like Footsteps in Snow.
Where I follow with Feather and Rose.
To give you my Heart and my Soul.
You are the Love that I Remember.
You are the Love that I Recall,
You are the Spirit of my Crossing,
You tie me in Beautiful Woes.
You are the Essence of Color.
Also the midnight cruiser.
You are the spring fawn,
and its your laughter that makes me grow.
You are the will of the bright.
You are the source of my spiritual writing.
You make me the king in blessings.
Blessings of virtue and light.
You are the love that I remember,
the truth and the love that is tender.
You are the ocean of responsibility,
that I pick up when reason is withering.
You are the quintessential virtue.
That all there is to know is full.
The fullness you supply, I imbibe
these virtues; with intimacy, grace and time.
Jan 24, 2022
Jan 24, 2022 at 2:27 PM UTC
tattoos on my neck but should be your lips instead
tattoos on my neck but should be your hands instead
I want every part of me, enmeshed in you
the sun kisses my back as she creeps up behind the hill
shedding light on the aftermath of drunken thrills
I miss the blaze of the blunt and the bass in the club
relinquish my demons as we are talking it up
do you like my eyes that's where they hide?
do you like my thighs wanna try them tonight?
because tattoos on my neck but should be your lips instead
Oct 31, 2021
Oct 31, 2021 at 8:23 PM UTC
Grandma insists the nation
Is without an eye so I'm wondering
Who leads her
She says we have all
We need for the big picture
but can't simply
Presit_then_see
A proof that you're blind
is clearly the fact that
You can see
Diobimma
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 12:40 PM UTC
the time
i had
with you
was nothing
but luck..
time was
always
a little bit
blunt
maybe too
blunt.
but
oh dear
i'm sorry
i had to
leave
oh-so soon..
too soon.
and
i know
the time
we shared
was oh-so
short.
but
even so
you got to
admit
it was fun..
yeah
oh-so fun.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC
17/02/2020
Quite often,
either joking or desperate,
I wish more and more I could shoot my mind here and now
for maiming me,
my spontaneity
and all my dignity.
Whenever it brings me to a crisis
– condemns my passions,
rebellion,
astrality,
joyful freedom,
innocence,
love,
irrationality
and “thoughtset”
– every place I come to sit,
stand
or just be at,
becomes tainted,
isolating,
with miasma for air
and like an eternally prolonging waiting room.
Waiting for what?
Probably redemption seeming out of reach at such moment
Whilst amid the dark matters.
Mostly sure that’s how Catholic purgatory would be like:
****** depression,
no God,
copper taste in the soul,
tight space,
condemnation,
tower of pressure,
no greatness to behold,
no hope for another day to come.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 5:47 AM UTC
Don't clear the smoke
Let me be in the smog of what-ifs
In my la-la land
I shall live my best life
In the heat of the blunt
I will live in the moment
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 4:33 AM UTC
You said you were the blunt,
smoking others like
they smoke,
But you never inhaled back.
All smoke and now
blunt rhymes.
You all gesture, hanging out with
your boys always behind
never up front.
Missing in the pictures, short ****
behind the trees.
I'll exhale in your face choking you
out on reality that your lost in the
smoke.
No one will ever be above you,
as your always looked down upon.
Short **** blunt rhymed hack.
lets be blunt, not the smog, but the facts.
that I'll alway smoke you...
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 8:46 AM UTC
Let's Pretend
Smile For the Camera
(Nobody wants to see the real)
Cry behind closed doors
(Show them success. What are fears, tears, eyes, and ears?)
Scream alone while everyone's asleep.
(Let the lambs sleep, you weren't meant for this)
Work hard, and smart while others quit
(No doors are closed, when you become the key)
Focus on yourself, and you won't notice them. Be successful for you, don't get so stuck watching others. You fail to see what's wrong in front of you, if you keep looking around. Shut down, and build up
(Eat, sleep, over power them. Make this world yours, don't get stuck in the lions den.)
E
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 8:30 PM UTC
"I love you," she said.
"I don't" he said.
Dec 23, 2019
Dec 23, 2019 at 2:13 AM UTC
I’m the only one with dirt on my hands,
I’ve been crossing my fingers and snapping rubber bands.
And the fragments and pieces build into a story,
I transformed it to a thesis; the quality’s too low for me,
and I never set my expectations too high,
as should I, a lack of truth and abundance of lie.
My oh my and by the by.
There’s cracks in my ceiling and head,
there’s splinters in my skin and my bed,
there’s poison in the words I was fed.
I’m the only one missing pressure on my shoulders,
replaced the gentle weight with two heavy boulders.
I was wishing on satellites thinking they were stars,
breaking free from embraces thinking they were bars,
admiring fireflies not realizing they were cars
but I’m painfully aware of my own
scars.
I’m holding open seminars
to these memoirs of ours.
There’s cracks in my ceiling and shell,
there’s craters in my heart where I fell,
there’s holes in each story you tell.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 6:04 PM UTC
I am a
No good
No-one
and you can't
Tell me
Otherwise.
In the end
I've found
All that really
Matters
Is who you were to them,
A year before you died.
Because I put a bullet where I should have put a helmet,
Along with Honesty and Sincerity,
And all their friends and Virtues.
Rebirth is easy, it's living that gets tricky.
Reborn as a sinner:
Love me,
Hate what I do
Best.
What I do best
Is watch you fall to pieces
Limb from crushed bone limb,
And what I do best
Is write sad songs
That I hide away in a corner of my
Closet(ed mind).
When you die,
They remember you with flaws they had of their own.
They make it about them,
And their pain,
As though being a martyr
Could actually bring you back.
(As though a martyr
Could actually come back)
So call me Apathy,
That'll be my new name.
A lack of empathy
No pitying sympathy.
Because I cannot seem to make you realize,
I do not empathize
Nor will I ever sympathize
With you no-good
Nice guys.
I'm a bad guy
What can I say,
I'm the villain, the antagonist,
I was put here as a test--
I went wrong,
I went far beyond wrong,
I took a wrong turn onto the wrong path in the wrong forest
Where I just don't belong.
So goodbye for the night, and maybe the next few,
But remember my number not name, as only the living seem to do.
So just remember these words, from time to time:
I am a lack of the holy seven--
You see, in place and in honor, I make nine.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 1:51 PM UTC
My worth is not seen by the harrowing nature of my own eyes
I have seen too many lives pass before me
They are wilted
Jilted by an unrequited dream
Lives that are my own because I always place myself inside your heart
If I could take the next bus home it would be toward that time when
I was 10
I hugged my Papa so tight because he was at my birthday party
That would both be the sad and happy time for me
Only to experience great loss and great gain and great forgetfulness
The fear of neglect is so close to my heart
That when I feel any sort of bird born in my cages
It is also a trap to set it free
There is a song sung before it flies away:
"Premature maturity
The never ending running man
In one place is a rot on my mind
Until it dies of nothing
Because my body is where ideas come to grow and die and bear fruit
My body is where I am alive for the new roots to plant itself in my skull
To listen to the whisper of the woman in my ear
She says she is my mother
There is nothing to fear"
But why Mama did you leave us?
To grow in a place where nobody knows us
To belong in a world where you are rejected
Your children feeling nothing but loneliness
The back of my head is haunted by a man looking over my shoulder
He sees everything I have searched for
I find nothing
But he finds me without fail
He knows everything
That man inside this cage of mine
His nose is broken, his grin is crooked like a hunger inside him is restless
There is a dark pit I cannot find
If I find it I might just get lost in thought
Pondering on an idea I can't quite remember
My mind treads unto idea upon idea
Until the stores have closed
It's nothing short of a shame
I don't mind your sorries
I only mind the explanations
If you could only find me my father again
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 2:36 PM UTC
I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but chains and whips to cover the truth.
I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but wounds and scars to cover the pain.
I'm just a beautiful liar, with nothing but twists and schemes, to cover the hate.
You may deny me, you may admit me, you may underestimate me.
But somehow, I have you questioning yourself.
I'm just a beautiful liar, trying to be good.
I lie with no remorse, yet, I tell the truth bluntly.
I know my capabilities, only a few I choose to use it on.
Don't trust me, and I won't trust you.
I'm just a beautiful liar, beggin, to be good.
Punish me daddy, for I have lied to tell the truth.
For I have sinned to be good.
For I have underestimated my own intelligence, to get my way.
I'm just a beautiful liar, covered in promiscuity.
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 2:26 PM UTC
Tonight I burn with a reckless abandon
Both ends in embers
I am choking on my smoke
I’m sorry I’m blunt
I’m sorry I’m numb
I’m sorry I run away
From everything trying to help me
I cannot share my sadness with you.
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 2:04 AM UTC
Just because its called a blunt,
Doesn't mean it dulls the edges.
It keeps everything turnt,
Giving a sparkle to the senses.
It gives you joy.
Whilst fading away your tensing.
Trips, it takes you on.
Just inhale. Take flight, take off. . .
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 1:17 AM UTC
I’ve discvoered
A strange pastime of mine
I like to look for flaws
Little things I am ashamed of
Then use poetry
To slowly unravel them
Bit by bit
Like the
Small intestine
We unraveled in our seventh
Grade fetal
Pig disection
Just like that
The ugly flaws
Are unraveled bit by bit
Left in all their original
Blunt grotesque
Glory
In my mind
To be analyzed
And on paper
-or a screen I suppose
Embeleshed,
Into something
Beautified and attractive
But,
Still honest despite
Holding back
To an extent
...
Meanwhile,
In my mind
The flaws are
Picked apart
With little probes
Occasionally,
A finite solution
And method to
Get rid of the
Flaw
Placed on
My never ending
Bucket list
But,
More often than not-
...
ERROR
NO SOLUTION
REQUIRES FURTHER STUDY
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
When my inner self and my outer self disagree
I tend to let my inner self free
I will not be repressed by society.
I am labeled straight forward
abrasive
Some say it with respect and admiration
Others, like I have a disorder
They can call me abrasive
I'm prepared for it to continue
until my inner self fully replaces
judgement with Love
I am determined to seek empathy
I will continue to let my inner self free
I will not be repressed by society.
I have a long way to go
but, I trust me.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 7:34 AM UTC