#hm
Practice “my” traits
Allow the knowledge to flow
I make my food
Servings of protein
Driving alone
Up and about to nowhere
My days seem endless
Distant in my room
Awaken when I see myself perform my life
But is life everything and everyone if we’re all reflections of ourselves
Performing this experience in the now... we are the crowd and dancers
I am you
But my thoughts conquer and the surface is all I see
My ego doesn’t understand
I want to love it so that it shrinks
I’m full from my meal
I miss Sabrina, my dear friend
I’m on this journey, and you’re still in it too somehow
Beauty is when the mind ends
When you just are with what’s infront of you
Cultivating in this state of loneliness
Collecting information
Input
Output
I don’t want to work tonight
The people will dance to the music
I’ll dance to our lives
But still playing my role
Shake my head right
Security
Whatever
Everything is happening in one moment
Sometimes it’s
:/
Sometimes it’s
:)
You know
Either or... it still is... “is”
When it all collapses, your spine tingles
I love my family
I love myself more these days, but it’s hard
My thoughts fall into the processors
Some seem to be “important”
I’m practicing my life
I’m experiencing it all in one
In one breath
I shift in and out
But it’s always there
Either way, I cherish the emotions
The downfalls
The glory moments
I come back to myself
I come to back to all
Behind the curtains
Behind the show
Behind the producers
Behind the mind
Underneath it all
In peace
Dancing in the stillness of it all
So much to think
They come and go
But some are part of me, they are stitched into my mind
I’m going to drink some coffee
This one is everywhere
But inside me
“Meeeee”
I miss myself sometimes
But I’m wrong to
This is fresh
I’m getting used to the handles of this acceptance
A follicle in an ocean
Vessels of ideas walking the earth, ******* each other
Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 3:47 AM UTC
I use men over and over again
and they don't mind
I'm humane and kind
I don't cross boundaries
I'm just a guest
we both know it and it's already been addressed.
When he undressed me he didn't ask about my father.
When he kissed me he didn't press into my heart
because that place is very ****** dark.
I use men over and over again
to feel something
to have fun
it doesn't really matter,
because we're all agreed, this is something we both need.
But you pushed and shoved, smashed and cannonballed my wall,
I didn't want you to ask or see behind my mask,
And even though I fought this fight with laughter against your shooting questions,
you pushed and shoved against my door to find out more.
You were sweet I must admit, romantic and gentle,
but there is a reason everything is compartmental.
because when you left the next day you didn't stop to check the doorway,
where you carelessly left behind my open heart and eyes.
I didn't want to share my insides because as you walked away you didn't check to see what damage you had done.
Asking questions you didn't want the answers to.
I use men but I don't ask more than I'm ready to receive,
and they agree I'm not trying to deceive,
but you blew the doors of pandoras box and left me with the mess
that I now have to try and repress
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:16 PM UTC
part i. what does death taste like? (“death is a part of life.” it doesn’t have to be)
i haven't visited that side of me in a while. i forgot how death felt -- how voyeurism felt.
the queasiness used to give me a rush, the asphyxiation made me blush.
the decaying yellow was complementary, and the edge made me feel, dare i say, alive.
while i’ve been a toddler again, i’ve forgotten the taste of wine and the texture of bread.
i no longer noticed how soft, ripe my flesh was. i no longer noticed the grime that piled
beneath life’s fingernails. i washed my hands so often, i assumed everyone else did, too.
my eyes became filled with tears, and my cheeks went ashen. yet, his brows were knit,
his eyes were cold, his mouth in a comfortable frown. he questioned me (as if i was
irrational for crying over a death), his tone heightened (while his conscience declined).
his eyes decline when he feels his conscience die. but he says it only happens when
he doesn’t look me in the eye. when he looks me in the eye while he cuts off my air,
he’s aware. he’s careful not to take it away permanently (he has a limit). when he looks
at me, he sees me, his angel. and trees do fall; leaves break away; soil does dry out;
flowers wilt; and we come back.
part ii. tea
more and more i search for quality. for quality.
peace. i want life’s beauty. i want life’s deliverance; i want what gaia has left to give.
the more i think, the more i feel.
i want the grit, pain; to be used and abused.
masochistic: please me by using my body to vent. remind me of what that iron taste is.
take away and then give.
my throat (a lifesource) -- take away and give back.
part iii. samsara/nirvana
freedom from samsara.
this cycle of death.
no, i won’t live forever; i’ll ascend far past immortality. beyond life, beyond death.
no. life and death. those two words have no value. no longer hold weight. are not real.
i exist solely as an entity, a matter, a collection of stardust and dirt. dense white matter
protecting throbbing pink matter. deconstructed. abstract. conceptual, theoretical
matter. we aren’t sparse. “we” are not. we are fleeting, made up complexities; making
life difficult. “we”. me. “i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”
samsara. nirvana. liberation. no more “cycle”, no more rotation. existing in a pile. no alive,
no dead. these words don’t exist. no ring around you. no ties to you. no chains on you.
drifting, floating, sliding through (no beginning or end) tranquility.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
Have you ever heard the saying, If you play with fire, you're bound to get burned?
Well, to me, I think it's just as bad as touching the hot water. The difference is that, if you do not have control over the water, you can't really tell the difference of whether it's cold or hot until you touch it.
Now don't get me wrong, you could probably feel that tiny whiff of heat or cool air, but it's not as easy as looking at a fire and thinking it'll be hot.
So, why am I telling you this...
Well, water is the same color, whether hot or cold.
Cold water does not hurt you as quickly as hot water, yet it still hurts.
People are like hot water.
Life is like cold water.
And you...your soul...conscious, if you don't believe in those, that's lukewarm.
Cold water can feel really good when thirsty,
And hot water feels good when bathing,
But lukewarm water...it's simply lukewarm.
Not bad, but not good.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
My eyes feel the unfortunate kiss of the sunlight
Man, it burns so fricking much when I try to grip onto woke
I anxiously glance at the time even when I have no plans or promises
I wonder what day it must be
Climbing out of bed without a routine can be bittersweet
It's as grand as going to work every day other than payday
But what's the most unfortunate thing about the morning light
It's the fact that yesterday happened
You can't wake up and see that everything was just a dream
Funny, I could've sworn this already happened before...
It's like the world is trying to tell you something
Hey bub, did you know that hell is just tiny build ups of agony and then never remembering those agonies happened. Over and over again, you're living in it.
Who would have thought I'd be mourning in the morning...
I'm too tired for this
I should probably go back to sleep...
Maybe when I'm gripping woke again...
Maybe it'll be the evening.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC
Me bi u **** pathar dil bAn jana
Thoda time
Lagu
But possible he
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
Candlelight is romantic, unless
you're in a dungeon.
Context changes everything.
Context makes you look down
at the bridges you build and realize
they are plywood: thin, cheap, but
soggy enough from this rain that
they're impossible to burn.
Realism is a myth. Everyone has a lens.
People believe what they want to believe,
or they believe the worst. Sometimes they
alternate, tense and relax at all the wrong
moments, a sigh of relief before the crime
has been committed.
Everyone loves a hero until they are up
against them.
The unforgivable becomes forgivable
in the right context, ****** as self-
defense, or in war. Fear and arousal
provoke identical symptoms in the body.
Sometimes the boundaries bleed together.
Sometimes ethics surrender in the face
of love.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC
I know I was wrong.
Am I ever going to forget? No.
Still, my mind races, everyday.
In the past, I never saw myself at this point.
Love is strong, Love is powerful,
With anyone, or anything, especially family.
You are the only thing keeping me sane.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
I love the trees
Mountains filled with snow
Icicles hang off the roof
Snowmen are built
Snazzy lights put everywhere
Yuletide is made gay
Opening presents before the light of day
Unwrapping happiness and love
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
so i said father, father
if i come back home with a diagnosis
instead of a mangled report card
will you look at me less
like i am a mistake?
sometimes i feel like an add math question.
the sort they like to put at the end
of the exam paper.
fifteen marks, out of forty, out of seventy, out
of a hundred, and the teacher taps
twice on the whiteboard with sharp sharp nails
and says:
here are fifteen marks. don't lose them. don't lose them.
but i am not good at math. i
cannot solve myself, don't have
the right formulas never could
make the equations stick in my head
the way your words always did,
father. like gum, like taffy, like
cigarette ashes and smoky anger.
you look at me most days
with calculator eyes
though i know you don't mean
to. are you any closer
to the answer than you were eight years ago,
in the doctor’s office?
have your batteries finally run out?
are you squinting so hard
because you can't see me anymore?
maybe you need new prescription glasses, father
like i need a new skin.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 10:44 AM UTC
what a beautiful sight, you should have seen
the blood! should have seen the anger and bitter hot tears
and shiny metal
and swollen lips from biting as if
you're trying to shut that voice up inside you because they
speak through you through your mouth and
red lips, teeth
use your tongue and chest shout for them to go away
its not working, it never works
but you won't stop trying and you want
your veins to run hollow and to bleed yourself dry
because you feel like an empty shell
the only thing inhabiting you is
the harsh voices
but they are
unwanted and they are bad news
and you don't know if you should stand up or not
or if that will increase blood flow because you will fall over
and see white dots like
fairy kisses in your eyes and on your skin and God won't
accept you to heaven because you've been told
killing yourself is a sin
but is hell really that bad because you already feel you are there
when really your heart is still beating and your
brain is still thinking
and your arms are still bleeding and you're still shouting
at everything to
please
be quiet just for a moment
to get everything straight
but you're not allowed to leave so you're staying on Earth
and you're so used to the voices you often get mixed up
which ones are real and which ones are in my head?
a very common and almost daily question you ask
yourself and sometimes others without realising
and what is it about depression being beautiful so maybe
one more tear and one more cut will make people like you
and boys and girls are not just going to be able to fix you just by
holding the key to your heart so stop thinking
the reason you're sad is because you're used or single because
people in relationships are just as sad as you and you are still bleeding and your
heart is still beating and maybe
sweetheart it wouldn't hurt to
sit down.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
omklamrende ligegyldighed
falsk sødme
hvem er hvor?
lysende stod du
omringet, omtåget
ubekymret? uberørt af følelserne
grotesk og ligegyldigt på samme tid
snore og livsliner og blodårer og røg
kan ens bedste og ens værste egenskab udligne hinanden?
konstant uligevægt
balancegang
besværlig ligegyldighed
vattet
hvor er vi? hvem er vi? overfor hinanden?
lysende sind, matte øjne
opgivne dagdrømme, sukkende potentiale
tung kontakt, fremmedgjort personlighed
klistret
hvem er vi? hvor er vi?
uvelkommen invitation (på eget initiativ)
robot-agtigt tvinges følelserne til at vakuum-pakke sig og fylde
intet
er vi? hvem?
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
I have so much left to say,
But I don't know how to say it,
So I'm writing you this poem
In hope that you will read it.
I'm not the best with words,
and I'm not good at being heard
but listen to me now, I'm pretty sure that,
you make my heart burn.
And all the things you say, I analyse
To make sure you aren't telling me lies
I'm trying to figure you out
Because I'm in a doubt.
I have this feeling I like you,
but I don't know how to tell you.
So I'm struggling to show you
The something I need to tell you.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
You're the best thing I have ever had,
and the worst I have ever felt.
You're the cigarette smoke in my lungs
and the alcohol on my lips.
It will always be you and me.
You're tattooed onto my heart.
You own my bones and blood.
But then I saw him.
Young, naive and pretty.
I didn't even know his name.
I only knew he was smiling.
smiling.
He was happy.
I fell in love yet again.
You still have all of me,
my sad lover.
But he who yet not have made
me feel pain and regret,
will always be a dream and a
sweet little affair.
No wonder why they call me
a ****
for i will always fall for the pure happiness.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
I guess I write in third person
so I can pretend that my feelings
aren't mine
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC