#etcetera
274 Etceteras
left behind orphans, moms, widows et cetera
who cares et cetera what their names are?
for they're Heroes indeed, Martyrs now et cetera.
**** happens et cetera, "it's common". Why surprised?
I'll give you some examples; China, England et cetera
That's the way the cookie crumbles.
Hope you're safe and sound et cetera
in your warm, cozy et cetera house.
WE et cetera are used to cold stones and mines.
though not stone-cold hearts.
mosquitoism
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
keeping something away from myself
is harder than ever keeping it away from all others, a feeling of what's been felt
like a monster of mechanistic mechanical deities in the mask of an elk
as you melt into crusts below the surface of the Earth,
I tried to give birth to something more than I, as an individual, will ever be worth
could ever be a part of as any true influence which captures an axial tilt,
yet here I am continuing the trial like a trapped spirit embodied as a curse,
a progressive insofar as I'm miles ahead in a hearse that's headed off the edge of all turf,
and the next true hope I'll ever really have is:
"Cosmic burial is my first option, should that ever work."
Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 1:49 AM UTC
He saved her from finishing last in the race for top spot on the beauty scale by finishing last himself.
He knew about her dandelion kissed heart making wishes upon more wishes searching for those seeds blown by her everlasting, heartbreak drenched breath into the anonymous wind.
He saves her while she bleeds out dead crocodile tears not wanting to take the same tissue that could replenish her very soul that.
He held out for her for the past year and a half - no try eternity and a half.
As she wanders these halls she is broken and he wishes to restore her but the Hydrangea buss melted off her skin and flew to never land or was it the Netherlands?
She feels them both the same as he remembers.
Is her heart really gone because he tried so hard to chisel through the brick wall only to find stone after wretched stone?
Are her finger tips so soaked with sadness and pools of depression from wiping off what the others call... What do they call those clear, wet broken dreams she wipes from the corner of her eyelids?
Tears. Oh tears. Yes.
Tears so they called them and oh such a simple word for a much more gargantuan meaning.
As the ocean leaks from her eyelids colored black from the mascara she uses to hide those insecurities woven deep within the organs held together in a system to make that beautiful gentle dandelion that is the organism called HER.
As she wonders where the seeds have landed from those dandelions she blew in hopes of finding that forever romance she comes to find that lying on your chest the day you broke through the solitary confinement over what she thought of as insignificant - her heart grew out of that rigid boulder of a shell and she didn't have to wonder where the wind took those dreams because those dreams were under her head as she rested in that bed. your bodies leaked all over the love scented sheets rocking to lullabies of sweat and the aroma of rose petaled 'I love you's' .
He never stopped trying to break through that barrier she carried behind that feeble rib cage he made it his mission his priority careful because one small flick could cause an avalanche of deep red cells that will leak through wounds made by the razor blade that she'd call savior.
That she wouldn't call but scream and the only one who would hear it was he.
And so determination.
It drove him off the cliff called insanity only to be lifted into that cavern of a soul she had buried deep inside.
It was like entering heaven and now he knows what it feels like and no fantasy of a land that you visit after death kisses your lips ******* the breath out of your lungs through your throat could ever measure up to that moment that she looks in your eyes and your souls can no longer qualify in the world of words, terms, phrases and etcetera and etcetera and etcetera as plural.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
My big brother wants to be the biggest
He quickly feels wronged
I would owe him
When I disagree with him
I get reproaches as if I'm betraying him
and conspiring with our sisters
As it suits him
he calls me
a little man (fascist)
a sneaky (secret agent)
a mama's boy (communist)
or a selfish (capitalist)
as if I'm taking something from him
and have no right
to exist
outside of hell
or of the colonialism
of his state within the state
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 2:25 AM UTC