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#consequence
Each step ahead a binding contract; a veiled force with light as contrast. The reasons were clouded, the voices surrounded. Then came the silence. And a turn on the highway. I see the crimes by me I don’t want to see. The souls I burned, the scars I earned. Left with this mark, on my body, in my heart, with this hollow aftermath— and I chose this path. Never really questioned why, and the stakes are high. The sins against humanity, at the cost of sanity. Despite a high-score of sinister wishes, I’m allowed forward— a life in stitches.
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Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 4:48 PM UTC
Stitches
dogged-king, of marble and stone dogged king, of marrow and bone stomach, swollen with sour words
0
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 1:26 PM UTC
Stomach
look at how they spared you as the tide drew as the snowcaps shrank the waves crashed
0
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 6:55 AM UTC
Spared
you said i didn’t have to run. but you didn’t stop me. you didn’t call. you didn’t knock on the door you let slam shut. you left like it was mercy. like letting me go was love. i used to flinch at the thought of seeing you again. now i flinch at how small i made myself waiting for something you were never planning to give. you live in the city. i live in the consequence. we could’ve been something, but you were always a man with hands in his pockets and too many words unsaid. so no— i didn’t run. i just realized you weren’t coming. and silence isn’t something i chase.
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Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 12:16 PM UTC
for you, but never for you
They call life a rollercoaster ride, A thrill, a loop, a drop, a glide But I don’t see the tracks they praise, This isn’t thrill, it’s endless maze A coaster ends, its path is known, Predictable, it brings you home But with life, where is the end in sight? Where’s the design? Where is the right? Life is no ride, it’s far more tight, A chain that binds, a heavy plight They claim I choose my steps, my way, But choices don’t exist today The ones around me shift the ground, They twist my fate without a sound You say, “It’s worth it,” from below, But from where I stand, you do not know My life began not with a stride, But clinging to a mountainside Where others stepped from stone to stone, I climbed a cliff face, all alone So tell me now, what hope remains For one who scaled such sharp terrains? I’m near the peak, with frozen breath, Yet nothing here resembles rest I see them laughing down below, Their paths laid out in gentle flow While I hang bruised with aching grip, Each moment feels my fingers slip This summit isn’t what I chose, It’s just the path that hardship froze I climbed because I had no say, Because the world carved out that way And though the peak is cold and bare, At least it feels like something there To leap back down, no solid plan, Too far I’ve come, too weak I am The coat I wear is thin, worn through, It holds no heat, but hides the blue And though I dream of stepping stones, I know the price would break my bones I’ve built a shelter on this height, The mountain holds me through the night It cradles me, yet keeps me bound, Above the life I never found And still, I watch the ones below, Their lighter lives, their steady flow And wonder, softly, with regret, At all the things I never met
0
Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 5:28 AM UTC
Cliffside Path
They call life a rollercoaster ride, A thrill, a loop, a drop, a glide But I don’t see the tracks they praise, This isn’t thrill, it’s endless maze A coaster ends, its path is known, Predictable, it brings you home But with life, where is the end in sight? Where’s the design? Where is the right? Life is no ride, it’s far more tight, A chain that binds, a heavy plight They claim I choose my steps, my way, But choices don’t exist today The ones around me shift the ground, They twist my fate without a sound You say, “It’s worth it,” from below, But from where I stand, you do not know My life began not with a stride, But clinging to a mountainside Where others stepped from stone to stone, I climbed a cliff face, all alone So tell me now, what hope remains For one who scaled such sharp terrains? I’m near the peak, with frozen breath, Yet nothing here resembles rest I see them laughing down below, Their paths laid out in gentle flow While I hang bruised with aching grip, Each moment feels my fingers slip This summit isn’t what I chose, It’s just the path that hardship froze I climbed because I had no say, Because the world carved out that way And though the peak is cold and bare, At least it feels like something there To leap back down, no solid plan, Too far I’ve come, too weak I am The coat I wear is thin, worn through, It holds no heat, but hides the blue And though I dream of stepping stones, I know the price would break my bones I’ve built a shelter on this height, The mountain holds me through the night It cradles me, yet keeps me bound, Above the life I never found And still, I watch the ones below, Their lighter lives, their steady flow And wonder, softly, with regret, At all the things I never met
Continue reading...
48
I didn’t mean for it to end— not like this, not my best friend. The anger came, too fast, too loud. Now I dig and whisper proud. We laughed that night, like always did— talked of dreams and stupid kids. But I held hurt behind my grin— a thousand cuts he’d sliced within. He didn’t know how deep they went, how words can bruise, how time gets spent. One glass too much, a shove, a shout— and all those ghosts came pouring out. I saw the fear flash in his eyes, too late to stop, too late for "why’s." "I’m sorry" won’t bring him back. But still, I say it to the cracks. The ground is cold, my hands are red. And silence speaks where he once said: "You’re my brother, through it all." Now I just recall the fall. No court, no cell can cage me in— just memory, and what has been.
0
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 2:08 PM UTC
"What I Did"
time forgot the scars the words the open sesame of my miseries my contempt for the irony, of freely contrived romance how her lips, pressed against mine became the toothed suckling of her vampiric abandon the sucrose of my affections and adorations of her how she fed on my caresses and poetry how she wounded my soul bled me out of devotion, mercifully, with adultery and in the coffin where I lay kosher, rigor mortus preserved, for her trophy cabinet taxidermy of bloodmoon, post-murder, post-disenchantment if the coitus fits, the honeymoon was faked how she planned it bottled my tears for a dry day lubricant for her tryst for having faked it so many times, surely the ink has run dry surely the letters were forged by faithlessness my Hancock used, to certify her authenticity, against my imagination the signature of my pleasures, a wife's knowing, turned to the devil's archives my powers turned to the dark where my light illuminated wonders untold impossible for a monkey has palms and thumb but it builds not empires with feces wherest, withal, man builds forests where monkeys swing and I sung at her wedding canary fleeing the coalmine, of debauchery, "Speak now, or forever hold your peace." hours ahead, the setting sun, I spoke, and the world's light dimmed that I should be beleaguered 20,000 leagues fatigued taking my meager pay how many times can a heart break beholding infidelity a woman so treasured if one should have 20,000 hearts, and 20 souls, how many times would the domino effect produce domino displays like rivers and waterfalls seas and skies mountains and snowfalls lakes and ponds oceans and mirages I sung it all for never shall I bear peace in the sight of infidels for they massacred love in their ****** of my love a thousand men took her willingly, she walked into the church mass and let them have their way to spite my face to rend my heart open with joyful, painful ******* and drain my heart of its love in the pews for the children's sake to see the fraud of their father that my blood be tears and my tears be blood I have no quench of my sorrows I bleed ore and cry thunders in the bellows of my torment known never peace have I though having supped of Nirvana and forged heavens from my joys abundant I have been mad and wasteful surely to weather myriad wicked adulteresses so and still have peace in my breast it surely, I profess was never peace, but madness! SURELY and so, that is why it took time for my heart's breaking for every ****** and every pulsing of cave, to womb and back, the journey of each sacrilege of innocence that generations of children have been metaphysically unborn by such a fuckery that worlds have been destroyed before spawning from nebula that lives have been destroyed and saved, both, before needing salvation before being endangered that hope was undone, in need and dream, that songs were unsung, and sung in their unsinging before stories wrote their need to be shared that bards would be unborn before legends could prophesy this unholy merrymaking befallen me and I, soft of heart and lung could be drowned in my keep with nary a poppy seed to sate the breaking of water, in me, soft-hearted I be that meteors could shatter the stillnesses of the surfaces of oceans, tempered as I, and I, as ice shattereth and remain disparate, frozen in time, I break, and continue, beyond need - beyond agony beyond warmth that wets the rain to stir from sleep beyond ice such that tears never dreamt of cold to neither have walked the sky such tears are dream itself but to dream of cavernous sorrows mere to satisfy the torture of things wished to be unknown what madness could be avoided though blessed be the avoiding that there need be sorrows such that hells become heavens and the devil become deserving of all the hells due the death of Christ that lucifer bear the scorn of all sinners for all time till time loses meaning and joy becomes as vapor to lucifer as vapor is to the vacuum of space but a pebble in an ocean's wealth of nothing... Therein, my wrath, due all my torments, chronic as breath, that my heart has become a vice that empathy has become chastity belt frostbite, my melanin price, cakes my fist as I behold my gavel, and judge all the ****** 1000-years before their deaths, with such wisdoms, my rage knows not end my fury knows not storms, in universes beholding their eternal gaits, my fury cannot fathom taming, that my heartache become a madness that neither holiness nor love canst quell save that nothing save me otherwise, that I become married to, nay, that I BECOME love and holiness, righteousness, too, that my righteous wrath, be spared annexation to evil, that my vengeances be preserved and mine enemies kept alive in my everlasting joy of what punisheth them, eterally! That I, may be born celibate before knowing my virginity simply to inquire ahead of custom and common ontological seeking query women, that they do still, without vanity, utter the word, the sign, the force, the mind, the passion, "LOVE." let alone perform it, that which it is I say, a man's privilege to declare that he knoweth love, and women darest have never had it, yet they deign gave God's breath to their desires of love, reified it believed in it let alone had faith in themselves that men died for their ****** that marriage be ****** by the succubus in God's heaven! They'd dare! take it, from me, in my offering, that I would love her, truly, in earnest and see her fed of love as like water like milk to a babe or, should she deign me less than a man due my will to love her should she deign herself queen without me, whenever the moment strikes she'll dare, on a whim, part her legs for any man declaring himself "King." though he be a vagrant, a pauper, a louse, a street urchin, with gold bullion cascading from his pockets because I, dared declare, "I love her..." that she should **** such a lecherous, maggot semened cuckold of love who would bed her with envy of me and joy of that envy sated true joy in his ******* of my wife for he sold his soul to bed her buy her and found his purchase met faithfully that he might, unfaithfully unholily, amuse her dwell in her due the purchase of womanhood due the market prices many celebrate ****** by, rather, due the "Graces", the unlovable, evil, malice the bloodied, rancid, defiled, arrogant ignorant, so-called "love" exemplified, demonstrated primarily, of a djinn, a monster, a fiend, a demon, a devil, in fact, so called: SATAN
0
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 3:52 PM UTC
Time-Lapsing Sculptures Of My Heart, Breaking....
time forgot the scars the words the open sesame of my miseries my contempt for the irony, of freely contrived romance how her lips, pressed against mine became the toothed suckling of her vampiric abandon the sucrose of my affections and adorations of her how she fed on my caresses and poetry how she wounded my soul bled me out of devotion, mercifully, with adultery and in the coffin where I lay kosher, rigor mortus preserved, for her trophy cabinet taxidermy of bloodmoon, post-murder, post-disenchantment if the coitus fits, the honeymoon was faked how she planned it bottled my tears for a dry day lubricant for her tryst for having faked it so many times, surely the ink has run dry surely the letters were forged by faithlessness my Hancock used, to certify her authenticity, against my imagination the signature of my pleasures, a wife's knowing, turned to the devil's archives my powers turned to the dark where my light illuminated wonders untold impossible for a monkey has palms and thumb but it builds not empires with feces wherest, withal, man builds forests where monkeys swing and I sung at her wedding canary fleeing the coalmine, of debauchery, "Speak now, or forever hold your peace." hours ahead, the setting sun, I spoke, and the world's light dimmed that I should be beleaguered 20,000 leagues fatigued taking my meager pay how many times can a heart break beholding infidelity a woman so treasured if one should have 20,000 hearts, and 20 souls, how many times would the domino effect produce domino displays like rivers and waterfalls seas and skies mountains and snowfalls lakes and ponds oceans and mirages I sung it all for never shall I bear peace in the sight of infidels for they massacred love in their ****** of my love a thousand men took her willingly, she walked into the church mass and let them have their way to spite my face to rend my heart open with joyful, painful ******* and drain my heart of its love in the pews for the children's sake to see the fraud of their father that my blood be tears and my tears be blood I have no quench of my sorrows I bleed ore and cry thunders in the bellows of my torment known never peace have I though having supped of Nirvana and forged heavens from my joys abundant I have been mad and wasteful surely to weather myriad wicked adulteresses so and still have peace in my breast it surely, I profess was never peace, but madness! SURELY and so, that is why it took time for my heart's breaking for every ****** and every pulsing of cave, to womb and back, the journey of each sacrilege of innocence that generations of children have been metaphysically unborn by such a fuckery that worlds have been destroyed before spawning from nebula that lives have been destroyed and saved, both, before needing salvation before being endangered that hope was undone, in need and dream, that songs were unsung, and sung in their unsinging before stories wrote their need to be shared that bards would be unborn before legends could prophesy this unholy merrymaking befallen me and I, soft of heart and lung could be drowned in my keep with nary a poppy seed to sate the breaking of water, in me, soft-hearted I be that meteors could shatter the stillnesses of the surfaces of oceans, tempered as I, and I, as ice shattereth and remain disparate, frozen in time, I break, and continue, beyond need - beyond agony beyond warmth that wets the rain to stir from sleep beyond ice such that tears never dreamt of cold to neither have walked the sky such tears are dream itself but to dream of cavernous sorrows mere to satisfy the torture of things wished to be unknown what madness could be avoided though blessed be the avoiding that there need be sorrows such that hells become heavens and the devil become deserving of all the hells due the death of Christ that lucifer bear the scorn of all sinners for all time till time loses meaning and joy becomes as vapor to lucifer as vapor is to the vacuum of space but a pebble in an ocean's wealth of nothing... Therein, my wrath, due all my torments, chronic as breath, that my heart has become a vice that empathy has become chastity belt frostbite, my melanin price, cakes my fist as I behold my gavel, and judge all the ****** 1000-years before their deaths, with such wisdoms, my rage knows not end my fury knows not storms, in universes beholding their eternal gaits, my fury cannot fathom taming, that my heartache become a madness that neither holiness nor love canst quell save that nothing save me otherwise, that I become married to, nay, that I BECOME love and holiness, righteousness, too, that my righteous wrath, be spared annexation to evil, that my vengeances be preserved and mine enemies kept alive in my everlasting joy of what punisheth them, eterally! That I, may be born celibate before knowing my virginity simply to inquire ahead of custom and common ontological seeking query women, that they do still, without vanity, utter the word, the sign, the force, the mind, the passion, "LOVE." let alone perform it, that which it is I say, a man's privilege to declare that he knoweth love, and women darest have never had it, yet they deign gave God's breath to their desires of love, reified it believed in it let alone had faith in themselves that men died for their ****** that marriage be ****** by the succubus in God's heaven! They'd dare! take it, from me, in my offering, that I would love her, truly, in earnest and see her fed of love as like water like milk to a babe or, should she deign me less than a man due my will to love her should she deign herself queen without me, whenever the moment strikes she'll dare, on a whim, part her legs for any man declaring himself "King." though he be a vagrant, a pauper, a louse, a street urchin, with gold bullion cascading from his pockets because I, dared declare, "I love her..." that she should **** such a lecherous, maggot semened cuckold of love who would bed her with envy of me and joy of that envy sated true joy in his ******* of my wife for he sold his soul to bed her buy her and found his purchase met faithfully that he might, unfaithfully unholily, amuse her dwell in her due the purchase of womanhood due the market prices many celebrate ****** by, rather, due the "Graces", the unlovable, evil, malice the bloodied, rancid, defiled, arrogant ignorant, so-called "love" exemplified, demonstrated primarily, of a djinn, a monster, a fiend, a demon, a devil, in fact, so called: SATAN
Continue reading...
238
He lived a life so bright, so free, With endless joy, with endless harmony. A dream of bliss, a golden scene, A life as perfect, as it’s been. But came a devil, cunning and sly, A tempting deal caught his eye. With terms spoken, glorious allure, He signed away, a heart impure. A parasite was born that day, Hidden deep, it made its stay. At first, the deal seemed grand— No worries bound by life's demands. He laughed, he lived, unburdened, wild, No truths defiled, no haunted fear— No… the cat’s here, and the bag’s there The parasite emerged, so clearly. The friends he cherished, walked away, The bond was broken, cold as clay. He called, he cried, sought hearts to mend, But none could bear what he’d defend. For every plea, they turned, ignored— The parasite they all abhorred. He tries it all, to break away, To cure the curse, to **** the stay. He runs, he hides, for the devil’s near, But still, the devil’s laugh he hears. “For what a fool, you truly are, For fleeting joy, went so far— Your life now, a pure despair, The parasite, now’s your attire.” Even as he dies, even as he rots, The parasite bellows off him a lot, As it reminds the world of what he is, And the world just spits on him, The cost of joy paid recklessly.
0
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 5:58 PM UTC
Parasite
We often fail to realize That we are always at a cross roads Gazing at the unrelenting precipice Of decision and consequence Each moment one away From falling farther or rising above
0
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
First Law
Promies, never to, The premise of us to part. Should I ever leave you, Let being be dashed- Against black canvas. Let blood be A medium of art. These shackled hands, Consequence of circumstance And everything I have entailed. Perchance, happenstance- That which we have lived And all that was not availed. The fog of brokenness, and ache of loneliness. Against reality, we rail.
0
Jul 7, 2023
Jul 7, 2023 at 6:08 PM UTC
Red Dot Nightmare
~ *Setting out in the leaf boat. What can possibly remain? Fruit of the wild rose? Hypnotica? These little fictions: petal and stem —maintenance drugs, turning strangers into friends and friends into customers. The only unforgivable thing: snow catches on her eyelashes and bliss is unaware.* ~
0
Jan 16, 2023
Jan 16, 2023 at 9:28 AM UTC
One Last Flower for Herself
Round the bend Broken steeple For a broken people Bleed blood bleed The wound won't mend Picture postcard It was a school house A ***** house The soot too heavy The lessons too hard Made up of new words Becoming new things But death is all It will ever bring The banquet now set And this one's for the birds
0
Sep 29, 2022
Sep 29, 2022 at 8:13 AM UTC
Only Time Enough to Dissolve
A million white balloons cover the clouds they hide the sunrise away from her eyes we’ve breathed nine hundred thousand and ninety-nine lies one among the many hides in the cries one as pure as any among the heavy on high for one day they'll turn flip like an urn full of tears and pour down like a crying sky
0
Nov 28, 2021
Nov 28, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
White skies
What choices would I change if I started from anew? What lessons from my life to change to see another view? Would I make the same mistakes or choose another way? Would I speak out just as loud at the times I had my say? How would I react to the things I've seen men do? Could I hope to be braver and help those it was done to? Would I choose to stand when I saw the need to fight? Would I still see the same things I do now as being right? Would I still choose to hurt those I caused pain to? Knowing that the choice once made is impossible to undo. I know I cannot go back and do it all over from the start, but if I did it all again, I would live it with a bigger heart.
0
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 10:18 AM UTC
Reversing
Pitiful, What makes you Conscious of your conscience Is the consequence.
0
Sep 23, 2021
Sep 23, 2021 at 7:45 AM UTC
Conscience
i once watched someone lie it looked exactly like telling the truth it was only years later that i saw the consequence emerging from who they had turned into
0
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 7:53 AM UTC
consequence emerging
Truth is in the pleasure...that is consequence.
0
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 9:47 PM UTC
Truth.
Your eyes twinkle differently. They don’t reflect the yellow from the sunflowers nearby but they seem to adore the tumultuous grey storm on the other side who knew one so mellow could suddenly harden maybe it hardened so it didn’t crumble - but you didn’t realise the nature that surrounded you a fresh breeze blew over the calm lake green trees swung beside to provide you with shade flowers grew alongside, and handed you their delicate seeds they knew you would care for them even after they grew to become trees - But you fell in love with the storm. You became the ocean - almighty powerful, vast and destructive yet so alone no one ever saw you except for bare, faceless rocks or people who died taking their last hop you comforted life in your darkest depths but it never saw the sky above you and only ever mastered hiding in the comfort of the blue you didn’t protect the seeds of the flower anymore those trees were too far away to shade you the calm breeze was replaced by a violent gale one that was too quick to move you you may have progressed into the calm sea that is enjoyed or you may remain the storm but the salty sea will never be able to bring back the sweetness that is gone.
0
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 9:48 PM UTC
Changes
In Soviet Russia, Consequence face YOU.
0
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 3:12 PM UTC
Consequence
Oceans of lusting life tide Drop of clouds Rippled show of consequence.
0
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 3:37 PM UTC
Life reflection
leave me alone with my consequences leave me alone to clean up my mess
0
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 2:36 PM UTC
mess
𝑰𝒇 𝒘𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒘𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 𝑰𝒇 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏, 𝒘𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆, 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝑾𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑺𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕.
0
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 3:22 AM UTC
• No Regrets •