#digest
I want to pick apart your brain.
Cut it up.
Chew on it.
Consume it.
Digest it.
There’s no reason to be afraid.
It’s simply
–what I do
–who I am:
Brain Surgeon.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 10:02 PM UTC
I think divorce papers taste like the ash of a cigarette falling from his lips when he told her the news.
Like whiskey burning fiery hot as it slides down the back of your throat,
with bitter sweet tears pooling in with umami ink, the saltiness hitting the tongue like the papers to the floor, a weeping widow who does not suffer from a death but an absence.
I think divorce papers cut up throats like the edge of a chip, swallowing the news over and over again does not seem to make it go down any easier.
I think divorce papers digest like a cheap meal, the kind that you know will give you trouble, but also know is better for you in the end.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 8:20 PM UTC
Turtle in your shell,
reading a book or writing a tell.
Experience scared across your back.
But...
‘Tis it a waste to wash in what’s fell?!
Stagnancy is hell.
Exploration, brings novelty.
Are chains made of poetry?
Be elegies you write, or dancing in meadows.
Your pen takes time,
and mortality slowly ticks to reality.
Is this how you want to spend, the last breath from your bellows?
Is it really worth its hold?
The relationship with time is abusive and finite.
Or tis it better to go out and be bold?
Make sure you don’t waste your limelight.
However, reflection is illuminating.
And one might find a place on stage with a mirror.
A gaze into which could change your fear.
To each his own, possibilities are enumerating.
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 1:37 PM UTC
So maybe, we are glow sticks,
that need to break to glow.
So maybe, we are caterpillars
who digest themselves during metamorphosis,
to transform into a butterfly.
So maybe, we are stars
that need to collapse
in order to shine brightly.
So maybe, we need to breakdown,
to pick up the pieces and cast ourselves
as someone different.
So maybe, we need to shed
to become a better version.
So maybe, all this
crumbling
breaking
collapsing
was never a destruction
but a birth to something beautiful.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
I’m a cannibal.
We’ll let that sink in.
It takes moment to digest that thought.
Sorry I have terrible humor, I know.
Why and who?
Mostly myself, I cannibalize me,
To rearrange my understanding of self.
It doesn’t survive upon contact you see.
So I slice and dice, chop and whip.
Until nothing irritates and the rot sets in.
Then I have to cut out the bad parts
And try to put myself back together again.
So you see it’s really not easy,
Being a cannibal.
But **** I bet the final product will be delicious.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
You are fake when you are there.
You make me lead a life of damage so disappear.
We are not talking all that gobbledygook.
If you do not know what you did to my life just look.
No more of me trying to placate around.
I can not find anyone to listen right now.
You just scuttle along your business.
Because you ripped me away from my true path of this existence.
Always the one to make me a maladroit.
Sometimes I think you do this to annoy.
It made me feel like a pipsqueak in a vast universe.
You will never make the grade with the past you coerce.
You were always the one to instigate me to aggress.
A kind of quality I could not digest.
My heart is beating like a rataplan.
If you think I can’t stop you, I can.
This is my final written gesture.
Now my life will no longer fester.
I grow forever fonder.
Because I will no longer sit and ponder.
As the years grow faster.
The years you took forever will remain a disaster.
I have been made an ugly creature.
So sit back and enjoy what fight I have left in here.
Here are the new rules.
I have you in stitches, so do not move.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
I was listening to a poet
reciting his poem “Times”.
He was pondering, could
it be like this and that?
Suddenly my cup of tea
happened to taste so sweet,
made me wonder why
wasn’t it such an edgy,
a while ago any time
before now just as tasty.
Where on a stony thorn
was it stuck this long?
It had to bloom just now,
so sweet a rose!
No one predicted whether it
will rain or not, it just drops.
The sun, shedding clouds,
suddenly swims so low!
Pondering me, I could
then only digest it
accepting a truth:
It doesn’t matter when
the bees love to come out,
sit on the rose and fly.
For the time, its best bard
only sings on time!
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
Feed from my soul
Drain me of all life
Take away my happiness
Take away my mind
Grow stronger from my pain
Grow happier from my misery
Show me your way
Show me your hate
Bring me to despair
Bring me to emptiness
Come digest me
Come destroy me
Make me hurt
Make me cry
Sink your teeth into my flesh
Sink your claws into my throat
Carnivore
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 3:23 AM UTC
It is the place of ill’s mausoleum;
This book is really an imperium
Which teaches everyone decorum.
A true product of petroleum –
To fire out fallacy and presidium
And produces highest order decorum.
A place of mental gymnasium:
Highly creative, productive ***
Where ill shaded in mausoleum,
The place with lot of decorum,
Cannot be found in millennium.
It is the place of ill’s mausoleum.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC
The only book teaching humanism;
The only which cures locoism;
One and only poem for lyricism
Is Reader’s Digest’s mechanism.
If you see it through any prism
Can find joy, fun, thrill and sarcasm
This is a weak agent of nihilism;
This is the best known idealism
Where all spend individualism
To receive mental masochism.
Reading it is just like mesmerism.
Without it school suffers gargoylism.
Indian tradition or let be Maoism,
It is well read and accepted optimism.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
One of the resourceful books unbeatable;
Children’s love, care and comfort biddable
Is none better than Reader’s Digest – capable.
Articles, reports, jokes and anecdotes audible;
All are present in it; all are undoubtable.
Changing the mindset of students capable
Is a new, systematic thing coachable.
Changing the world and its cannibal
Into the virtues and values bindable.
Explaining itself if anytime culpable;
And so is famous for being countable.
Teachers, parents, students ennoble
Reader’s Digest for not being enfeeble.
Leaders or followers who are like a crucible
Change their minds and be bendable.
Behaviour and conduct – key undoubtable
Will keep you atop, elevated, lofty and able.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
I could chew my way
through all the armless hugs,
through all the silences,
but an infestation of truth
tore away the mask
which allowed me to pursue
such a mindless task,
and now I can no longer
act so automatic,
no longer just a passenger
in my own mind,
I'm either indifferent or dramatic.
And now the entrace is closed
for what I detest,
you're a part of me and
I hope you don't mind,
but darling, your knives
were always the hardest to digest.
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 11:19 AM UTC
It's not me, it's not me, you see.
It's not me you're questioning.
It's not me who propels this
dark side of my psyche.
Anti hides behind my friend, Hope.
Anti hides behind my friend, Light.
Anti has resided in me for quite a while.
Anti hides behind every face-lighting smile.
Anti is not my happiness,
It's all the sides of me I'd rather not see,
All the sides that feel so right
when they speak of the
wrong things to me,
So real, so authentic.
Anti's not who I'm meant to become;
a contradiction manifesting
itself into my body.
Sometimes, I feel it take over me,
Sometimes I let it win.
That's usually when people
start to not recognize me,
That's usually when I feel
my kindness freeze,
I feel my impatience
and tolerance cease -
I can no longer digest
anything around me.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Love is when you can't control your fast beating heart
Your sweat from the stress
The amount of words you can't digest
And the physical excitement from your body.
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
Will you ever remember
The Spring times
We swallowed butterflies so often
Our stomachs refused to digest them
And the cold Winter days
The sun hid behind the clouds
And cried heavy rain
Utterly jealous of the heat
We made each other feel.
Will you ever remember
The early mornings
You swore
Your love was pure
And each time
You promised me eternity
Because this is not what I see
Nor is it what you want of me.
F.Z.N
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Writing something when you're full
Makes you mix up lion with bull
When you stay off the kitchen
Your stomach feels some itching
Later maybe have some tea
Having too much makes you ***
Take some time to digest
This way you can say the best
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
It's funny how inhaling poison
can seem adequate enough
to fill up your time
and...
natural.
I do remember when your tongue
tasted like toothpaste and nicotine
and I ****** on it
as if trying to steal your pain away
and swallow it.
But all my stomach had to digest
was silent words
that I am still hungry for
and a desire
for you to stop hurting yourself
and me.
But all you do
is smoke one cigarette after the other
with such nonchalance.
F.Z.N
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC