#external
I am a little older now,
Neither grew taller nor became bigger,
Just a little rusted cogs here and there,
Joint with a dimmer shine of dreamy eyes.
In many places I have been
Novels and books I've read.
Yet not much have I seen,
Not far I could tread.
And then the slower my marches became,
No strength could I muster.
My thoughts were sunk in a haze by then,
No forward could I luster.
So I'm just a little old now,
Though sinking, my heart hasn't drowned now.
But it's cold here and I'm scared.
"Hope it won't be too late to ask for help
I'm afraid"
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 1:06 PM UTC
It's an external fuse that's lit
And ignites the internal hate and abuse
I put up a respectable fight
But at the end of the night
I always wonder, "what's the use?"
Now I have to come up with an excuse
For being me,
For being what you see
But I've run out of preprogrammed lines
Who I really am is already set in everyone's minds
I stand in fresh sand
The oceans tides has taken with it all of the lines
Rendering me lost
Is what I've paid anywhere near the actual cost?
When is it okay to say
Maybe this life is a loss...
©2025
Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 12:55 AM UTC
We all have inner and outer lives.
They’re messy, hopelessly intertwined, and more
than mere mannequins to hang our word-art upon.
I’m supported, in my unwritten life, by a structure
of moods, both affine and counter-expressive. I’m,
in turns, a tightly wound vagabond, an over-busy,
fretful, unhappy liar (for what I will not share) and
a happy, truthful mess (for what I may overshare).
My outer-life is largely academic, and turned with
complete absorption to task, I plow thru the
needed assignments, like a caffeine fueled machine,
You might rightly call outer-me boring. I get it, for
nothing much happens beyond study and life’s
usual maintenances.
But my inner-life is full of action, if desires,
dreams, and internally ranting against the injustices of youthful separations can be rightly called actions.
Of my boyfriend, the world contains not one parallel.
He overshadows the few others I’ve ever known.
His masculine elements turn me all the way up,
He knows my petty vanities and most of my weaknesses. If he doesn’t know my every phase of feeling, or every desire of my love starved soul, it’s because our love is peripatetic.
Most of the year, we’re a long distance, digital, practical nothingness, A near autofictional anticipation. We are separated by a sea and more. If I may simply put it, I have a fine young body that is going to waste.
When I complained to my older sister, a surgeon who long delayed her own personal life for her career, she shruggingly and unsympathetically said, “You only have to suffer a few more years.”
“Oh, mon Dieu!” I replied.
.
.
positions by Ariana Grande [E]
34+35 (Remix) by [feat. Doja Cat & Megan Thee Stallion] [E]
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 11:11 PM UTC
The humane big heart
defeats superficial fear
love works inside out
She won't grow rotten apples
just look at mamma the earth
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 2:12 PM UTC
I stand, move,
dance, cry,
balance, love and
celebrate
inside INTERNAL world
with purpose...
to reflect outward
thusly
my EXTERNAL world changes
to whisper
IN grand song.
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
Today I'm feeling oozy
Sweet and slightly snoozy
My heart feels jammy juicy
My eyes still stale and scuzzy
Today I'm feeling rotten
Young and quite forgotten
My heart is made of cotton
My eyes play tricks and soften
Today I'm feeling crispy
Jeweled and fancy frisky
My heart is feeling thrifty
My eyes, regardless, misty.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
I am in a box
As I reach out
Touch the walls
This strange barrier that separates me
From the other
Anything external
Different
Other
A hand from the box adjacent to mine appears
Splayed against the wall
I reach out mine
The dark and light contrast
Like the Chinese symbol Ying and yang
Other clearly
Other
Even a child could tell the difference
But,
Who does it take to look past the differences?
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
Let my enemies stand before me
baring their fangs like wild dogs
as they circle around
minds racing
finding a weakness
Let them establish a plan
to drench the earth before us
with the stench of scarlet blood
whomever’s it may be
in the end
For I will fight the good fight
even if the last thing i swallow
is the pain that encumbers my every fiber
my last breathe will not be in vain
but one less they will be able to take
For my last giving moments
will be tough earned
and the last thing that will slip from my lips
will be a promise of vengeance
if that is the way the earth mote it be
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
Between information and entertainment
While I practice my own divination
From criticism and determination
I find that I'm deteroatinng
Before all my summer leaves turn red
And fall to hit the ground so dead
I practice every page I read
Recitie it a million times in head
Then deep in my globes core if woes
Where more than the hottest magma flows
My thoughts turn to plasma
I cannot stop the phantoms bantar
So if I super solider
The serum imperium
I shall shake the frustrate if the open hand you take
Supported?
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 3:39 PM UTC
As I know her from the longest time,
I know that under external influence,
She did all the stuff she did not wish.
As she is not interested in me anymore,
I thank her for being my inspiration,
She was indeed a truly youthful lover..
As with all good things so with her love,
I could not monitor her for 24 hours,
She listened to God knows whomsoever.
All I infer from the relation's demise,
Is that she listened to the negative people,
So closely spread in her surroundings.
All I can wish for her advising party,
Is that they may suffer the same fate,
So similar to mine their outcome be.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:45 PM UTC
Our dreams hunt us like we were their own threats
The internal and external worlds blur together
One's mind becomes slow and sensitive to every change
For we became the betrayed ones for now and ever.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
Rage
Followed by fear
Blank expression
Abandoned voice
Traceless imprint
Jaded enthusiasm
Scream into the void
Preach your poison gospel
Fear fills your frame and flows through your veins
Anxiety is your life blood
You crippled, broken beast
You pathetic excuse for a man
This is not me
You are not I
I live, ready to drink the sweet nectar of life
You forsake it, spitting in the face of altruism
This is not me
A crippled, broken beast
A pathetic excuse for a man
So many others crave the life you so readily condemn
Anxiety is your life blood
Two egos trapped in the same vessel
I owe myself life
Yet all you know is silence
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
I don't know how to explain this feeling
If you can even call it that
It's more like how to describe someone devoid of feeling
I lack the capacity to demonstrate emotion
But then does that mean that when I cry it is just for show?
Or is it that my body reacts externally but not internally?
I guess it's difficult to explain something you've never had.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 6:34 PM UTC
Perhaps beauty is not the glitters and gold of perfection. But the scarred cracked frame of reality. And as we explore these trenches; we find the most rarest forms of honesty.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC