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#crawl
Verse 1: In the heart of the hive, where the bees sing their song Lives a bear with a secret, that only honey can be strong He's been hurt, he's been scarred, but the sweetness he adores Makes him rise up, and ask for more Chorus: Bears don't crawl, they won't fall They'll find the honey, standing tall With a taste, they'll heal their pain Bears don't crawl, they'll rise again Verse 2: He's been through the fire, and he's been through the rain But the honey's warmth, brings him back to life again He's driven by the sweetness, that only honey can provide A flavor that revives, and makes his heart collide Chorus: Bears don't crawl, they won't fall They'll find the honey, standing tall With a taste, they'll heal their pain Bears don't crawl, they'll rise again Bridge: In the golden light, of the honey's glow He'll find his strength, and let his spirit grow With every drop, he'll feel alive Bears don't crawl, they'll thrive and survive Chorus: Bears don't crawl, they won't fall They'll find the honey, standing tall With a taste, they'll heal their pain Bears don't crawl, they'll rise again
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Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC
Bears Don't Crawl
They call it a gift, this body of mine, but every month it gnaws at itself, chews the lining of my womb, spits out blood like a sacrifice to a world that does not care. I step outside, eyes crawl up my skin like ants, like maggots, like fingers that never asked for permission. A whistle slits the air— a razor against my spine— I swallow the bile, keep walking. Mother said, don’t wear that Father said, boys will be boys I say nothing— only dig my nails into my palms, so deep the crescent moons bloom red. I dream of shedding this skin, peeling it back like an overripe fruit, scraping out the parts that feel ***** that feel weak, that feel like they do not belong to me. I want to be new, to be sharp, to be something they cannot touch. But even in dreams, they chase me. Even in dreams, I run.
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Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
Metamorphosis
To heal, Journal they say Like a worm in the dirt Of my front lawn Sliding, pushing through Air pockets Arduous, unending crawl No words come To mind Where can I breathe To heal, Journal they say Words don't come easy They fly up like Torn pages of a book Riffed, stolen letters of some name In the nameless wind Grasping what isn't there, A cynical continuing void To heal, Journal they say My hands become deaf and blind The pages curl and mold Pen and paper inventing before I have begun All I have is the deep The deepest inside That comes here Traversing incredulity, while I cry To heal, they say
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Oct 14, 2023
Oct 14, 2023 at 9:29 PM UTC
They Say
leisure up my friend !    weaken open your shellfish hinge        and wet your beak it’s a marked holiday break    unmarred by family obligation there’s freedom    to make the most criminal crown of mistakes    in the name          of some frown of liberal investigation on the town an eager squad of collaborators are on board      they have your back desperate, sick and starving gulls      broadened to explore the deplorable on and on to the next and the next      death defining task a meandering stagger of a bar crawl   perpetually   powering through      as the day spans a revulsion the heat stays as the day sinks beneath in place of the suns rays the heat radiates         from the baked city concrete    stepping out from the shelter of the bar   the night swelter respires fiercely not done with our steam of annihilation   what establishment would take our kind ? city has already bowed over it's plumage                                  to our ******* pilgrimage bark melts and peels in strips off the trees         (meat shaved off the strip pole) our heels spark the pavement vermin and jackals follow our movement              from shimmering dark spots              and our vision constricts our aim   has become clotted...       ...what was it that we reached for ? oblivions fruit seemed a doable pursuit it's the usual downhill shambles from here familiar yet barely remembered a rambling guff of bad ***** comedy there is no plucky legend just an embarrassment
0
Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 9:47 PM UTC
crawl
leisure up my friend !    weaken open your shellfish hinge        and wet your beak it’s a marked holiday break    unmarred by family obligation there’s freedom    to make the most criminal crown of mistakes    in the name          of some frown of liberal investigation on the town an eager squad of collaborators are on board      they have your back desperate, sick and starving gulls      broadened to explore the deplorable on and on to the next and the next      death defining task a meandering stagger of a bar crawl   perpetually   powering through      as the day spans a revulsion the heat stays as the day sinks beneath in place of the suns rays the heat radiates         from the baked city concrete    stepping out from the shelter of the bar   the night swelter respires fiercely not done with our steam of annihilation   what establishment would take our kind ? city has already bowed over it's plumage                                  to our ******* pilgrimage bark melts and peels in strips off the trees         (meat shaved off the strip pole) our heels spark the pavement vermin and jackals follow our movement              from shimmering dark spots              and our vision constricts our aim   has become clotted...       ...what was it that we reached for ? oblivions fruit seemed a doable pursuit it's the usual downhill shambles from here familiar yet barely remembered a rambling guff of bad ***** comedy there is no plucky legend just an embarrassment
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43
excellent ears hear the secrets whispered at dusk incredible intuition detects the creeping predator before it thrusts marvellous mind can always find a place to hide amongst crawling up into the corner of the ceiling like a spider, stay there collecting dust
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May 18, 2023
May 18, 2023 at 11:03 AM UTC
Ceiling Dwelling
{from 07 Feb 2018, reintegrated to my mind today, btw} How much weight can a word carry, you know? I-am-bicly or bib-licly speaking, y'know What I mean to say is, no word stands alone even the word word itself needs a place to put its foot. --- Certainly, we've seen a thing or two since you first stopped to see waves forming right before your very eyes in stone Lies. You said you were certain they'd be lies if you told another soul what you thought you might have, might have, seen. ...face-forgotten man wonder who I am Well, I'll be, if it weren't for me, I doubt I'd get one ****** lie unbelieved, Tut, you know what I mean, we can't go diggin' up the past and get past the present without suffering it to be so. Just sayin'. Pain ain't, necessarily, part of waiting, now. Here, if you're hungry, you can eat. If you are thirsty, drink. The real here, where you are now. You're not in some torture chamber reading this. Think about what you can't live without and, watch, time stops, to prove you wrong. You live on. Even if you think you died, you still think, so, you live. Get on with it. Imagine the reality of truth, as a place, past physics, no lies exist there. So, what else is new, to you? What else ain't here, where it is said there is no condemnation? Don't do that. Don't start imagining all the bad stuff happening here because you can't imagine no lies you believe. You imagine lies every time you say amen, in-advertently, so be it, as it may be, admitted ly, for gotten-past-things, such as they are, imagined ones are still the worst. Hardest to get past. If there be any virtue, praise, rock-candy-mountain-reality, you may recall them all. Freely given for giving, dharma karma doing done, old son. Fair were the tales the servants told to Grandma's people before the flood. The ant people, were a diligent folk, they hid us all in reed boats they bent with the wind, like Corn-mammy chill'ns in April sun showers. But, oh, the way things used to be, they was ab- used, them servants sent from God. Good luck findin' one now. Blue and white, and blue and green, and blue and yellow, and blue and orange, two by two, on a spectrum of one being the best, choose blue and white. Discern the rest. Be still. There's more. a -musin', eh? the way things might-a -been. 'lot a good that may do ya', ken ye, kennin' ever things? Kin folk fallin' from the fam'ly tree be laughin' sayin' see what he wannabe, lordy, lordy bless my baby heart. Pea-pickin' heart.
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Dec 29, 2022
Dec 29, 2022 at 3:57 PM UTC
Weighty words worth a passing thought
{from 07 Feb 2018, reintegrated to my mind today, btw} How much weight can a word carry, you know? I-am-bicly or bib-licly speaking, y'know What I mean to say is, no word stands alone even the word word itself needs a place to put its foot. --- Certainly, we've seen a thing or two since you first stopped to see waves forming right before your very eyes in stone Lies. You said you were certain they'd be lies if you told another soul what you thought you might have, might have, seen. ...face-forgotten man wonder who I am Well, I'll be, if it weren't for me, I doubt I'd get one ****** lie unbelieved, Tut, you know what I mean, we can't go diggin' up the past and get past the present without suffering it to be so. Just sayin'. Pain ain't, necessarily, part of waiting, now. Here, if you're hungry, you can eat. If you are thirsty, drink. The real here, where you are now. You're not in some torture chamber reading this. Think about what you can't live without and, watch, time stops, to prove you wrong. You live on. Even if you think you died, you still think, so, you live. Get on with it. Imagine the reality of truth, as a place, past physics, no lies exist there. So, what else is new, to you? What else ain't here, where it is said there is no condemnation? Don't do that. Don't start imagining all the bad stuff happening here because you can't imagine no lies you believe. You imagine lies every time you say amen, in-advertently, so be it, as it may be, admitted ly, for gotten-past-things, such as they are, imagined ones are still the worst. Hardest to get past. If there be any virtue, praise, rock-candy-mountain-reality, you may recall them all. Freely given for giving, dharma karma doing done, old son. Fair were the tales the servants told to Grandma's people before the flood. The ant people, were a diligent folk, they hid us all in reed boats they bent with the wind, like Corn-mammy chill'ns in April sun showers. But, oh, the way things used to be, they was ab- used, them servants sent from God. Good luck findin' one now. Blue and white, and blue and green, and blue and yellow, and blue and orange, two by two, on a spectrum of one being the best, choose blue and white. Discern the rest. Be still. There's more. a -musin', eh? the way things might-a -been. 'lot a good that may do ya', ken ye, kennin' ever things? Kin folk fallin' from the fam'ly tree be laughin' sayin' see what he wannabe, lordy, lordy bless my baby heart. Pea-pickin' heart.
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68
He awakens to a day of hope after happy day of birth attended by smiling parents proud who know his priceless worth He awakens to a day of hope lying restless on his *** after one move that surprises him he ends up on his tum He awakens to a day of hope on his tum going nowhere fast flailing arms and legs eventually push now he's on all fours at last He awakens to a day of hope wobbling steadily as best he can one hand forward followed by knee then other knee and hand He awakens to a day of hope rising quickly on all fours wide-eyed and giggling all the way crawling fast across the floors He awakens to a day of hope finally standing on his own weeks to months and months to years now a family of his own Mark Toney © 2021
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May 29, 2021
May 29, 2021 at 9:19 AM UTC
A Day of Hope
I await the calm, the bleach of night, that chapter when my ribs unbreak, crawl back around my cageless heart. eyelids weigh like lead in this cruel gravity-- they swell faster than tears. tears that fail to surge me out of this flooded shell; they close like every marble door that stands straight between my dreams and I, and you-- I await you, draped in downpours & monsoon tempests; maybe, this time, our wildest winds would fade out in their collision.
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Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 5:27 AM UTC
I await
She walks a path with one eye open She follows a path with one eye closed Connecting the strings that float around Like caterpillars Dangling From trees Squirming on their silk She crawls underneath them Un-wanting to not disturb the dance Until she smells the wildflowers. The other eye closes Still crawling the path Luckily, The bugs have warn it down enough To follow with her hands and nose. When she felt the wildflowers on her face She opened that eye Excitedly she pealed open the other. When she heard nothing She was amazed In the distance she could see waves crashing through the wildflowers Once again her world was absent of light. This time she held her breath. She laid in those wildflowers For a long time. So long her fingers and toes sprouted roots pulling her deep inside the soil, Grounding her.
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May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 5:54 PM UTC
The Path
My conciseness was a seed of spider threads, and when an idea birthed like a sack of baby arachnids. Crawling within, consuming my every introspection. I slumped over the page, they crawled forth, tiny metaphors continuing after my musing was consumed within..
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Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
Threads Of Musing Crawl Within
My mind tickles, My heart itches, it is crawling on my skin There is no comfort in living.
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Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 4:23 PM UTC
Living uncomfortably
her fingers crawled around my mouth like a spider
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Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 2:29 AM UTC
web of lies
As the shadows crawl behind me in broad daylight, I'll haunt them at night.
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Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC
Shadows
As we go on our journey We      Crawl               Walk                 Run                  Race                   Swim                    Hike                     Bike Through what we call life There are things we must do There are things we must avoid There are things we must finish When we arrive here we have no clue As we get there we will learn We will                Make Mistakes                 Fall in love                  Get a job                   Lose a job                    Find a mate                     Learn what it takes                      Get older And then it's over.... Have some fun while doing all of this Brian Hill - 2019 # 192
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Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 9:09 AM UTC
...Life...
How can one enter a story? Like gaps in words, emptiness between breaks. How can one crawl out of a plot stealing a character?
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Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Story
In a world of imperfections When she was supposed to walk She decided to stop listening And she said “I will just crawl.” Nobody understood her motives Not a soul wanted to ask She felt safe in her habitat Surrounded by her dreams Embracing her own thoughts Who could understand her? Who could make her grow? A boy with a face of an angel Met her and felt in love Her heart started beating She wanted to run It was then she started walking The love she felt made her stronger The boy, by her side, was hoping She would run and follow him To another place... no wonder! Love is so magical Love is miraculous She started to run, Reaching the boy’s hand Feeling their heart becoming one In this world of imperfections She found a boy she wasn’t looking for Crawling and running for love No one could believe it, She was missing her true love As a new day approaches They decided to fly away Because the world they made together It was perfect in every way.
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Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
Crawl, Run, Fly
prickly roses quick to touch don't you weep let's keep this a hush sing my song when you fall or else watch your demons as they crawl
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
a little too sharp
May I trip on purpose, Fall into strength, Get back up into confidence, And stride on my glory. There's a mirror I look into that's as black as my pupils, I can only look as far as my eyes can squint... before they close. I come to realize that I see nothing. Just darkness. I can't see cracks, or colors, or hopes, or dreams, or anything. Even in the dark of the mirror, nothing reflects back on me... Maybe it's all just me... In my head... Or maybe, I can see... yet this entire time I've been blinded by me. What if I have only seen what I think people see when all I see are the weapons that can be used to hurt me... Trying to protect me by hurting myself first never really worked anyway. So when I trip on my shame, and I fall because I've been cursed lame, And I can't get up cause I'm weighted by the chains, Let me crawling tell you something...
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
вlα¢к мιяяσя
In the Melting of Days We were Swept like the Fog While a Sunshine of Rays Made us Crawl in the Mud.
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
In the Melting of Days (2017)
Be afraid Be very afraid If you fear Do it scared I'll crawl to you With my knees bent back I'll make my way Covered in grass Beneath the ground Spouting about I'll get to you Without a doubt
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Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
If you fear, do it scared
Keep your heart blank, Get up, let’s get drunk, They take you for granted, You shouldn't be so frank. You heart wants another love Mind says, no!!!, no more, Don’t be piece of their puzzle, Keep her ego at the door. Look ahead, erase your memories, Redundant episods and felonies, Set each neuron of your brain, To bless you with festive melodies. Your life should be a fortunate roll, Keep your head up, no more of a fall, In whomever your heart wants to believe, Escape that feeling, make her crawl.
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
BLANK