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#ihateithere
every ancient shade green as heaven spread deep a leviathan copse slow ly they climb s[c][t]ar cast children were give n the seedling sky but sing of more
0
Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 8:58 AM UTC
magnetic poetry one
Tired as a stuffed doll, I can’t move a muscle. Living’s been bleeding me dry, Earning’s been a hustle. Wake up early, stay up late, Insomnia's steering the wheel. Anxiety’s front two wheels, While ADHD's at the rear. Driving me straight into depression. Been rotting in a matchbox room, Keeping my head stuck in, least I burn, Never planned to be alive this long. Man, this life ***** Be a gentleman, be a nice guy, I was taught to be polite. Life has a funny way of punishing Those who run from its fight. Why does this body demand food Three times a day? I can’t plan, can’t cook, And buying’s out of my pay. School was for learning, Office is for earning, One day I will live my life free, I keep swearing. I may drive a hard bargain, But my fate's grown bored again Dangles a heavier bait, To reel me right back in. Then comes the weekend, Only to stretch the hours thin. You sit with your pathetic little life, And pray the dear lord for lightning to strike you in. This life’s been killing me, The older I get, the sharper the regret. Should have taken my life when I was feeling it. Breathe in, breathe out, this odd sensation's been lingering, For every air I take to live, I wish the world didn't keep billing me. So show me mercy, Or show me the light. I cannot put up to this fight. There are millions others just like me, Go torment them, And let go of my kite.
0
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 12:38 AM UTC
I Hate it Here
I have always been a dog at the end of a great table And everyone at the table is eating a feast. Some eat & eat & eat, while others peck here and there. Some won't eat because they're too busy talking and laughing. And some are visibly eager for the feast to end. "I wish they had better food instead of this slop" one says. Another has found a hair & a bone in their food. "Gross" they continue to hesitantly eat around it. Every once in a while someone will hand me a scrap just so I know what it tastes like. So I know what I'm missing out on. "One day you'll be up here. Hell, sometimes I wish I didn't have to eat all this junk. But you get used to it, like we all do." I take their word for it. And then I'm sitting at the table. But I'm still a dog. I've been dressed up like a person, & trained to present myself like a person. But I'm still a dog, sitting in front of people my age. The people my age begin to feast. It seems like they know which foods to eat slowly because it's too hot or cold. They could tell which food had bones & seeds that needed to be removed. They knew when to take breaks from eating to spare themselves from tummy aches. And Most Importantly they begin to talk amongst themselves & start to build connections & an order of who would lead these conversations. And I'm still a dog. I start to eat from the plate in front of me and immediately throw it all back up. I had eaten too much. I didn't know. Embarrassed, I stop eating & just watch the eaters around me. I study the way they eat, the way they talk, the way they smile & look around. I want to copy what I see. I try talking to the ones sitting next to me, and they respond with kindness. But they could tell that I was just pretending. They knew I was still a dog. I keep studying and I become decent at talking. My brothers are very skilled eaters almost like it's just natural to them. I frequently compare myself. "Why can't I eat & talk like them?" I'd ask myself this, completely forgetting that I'm still a dog. "All in good time, you just have to keep growing up." They tell me this, knowing fully well that I'm just a dog, and for some reason refusing to acknowledge that. I keep eating & keep throwing up, because no matter how much I study those around me I am still a dog sitting at a table with a feast for people. But the table is the only one seen for miles in every direction. Dad and Mom say that once you leave the table you can never return. So, I have to eat by the rules and stay until the end or else I'm wasting the opportunity Given to me by the Large Man at the end of the table who is the most important person to ever exist. "If you eat enough, and eat correctly, you get to sit by Him & talk to Him & that should make you love sitting at this table." Sure, the food is delicious and the people are kind. But I'm still a dog, regurgitating all the food I try to eat, because this feast wasn't meant for me. I didn't notice before, but there are other dogs roaming about. They're not allowed to sit at the table and eat the feast, and we pity them. I pity other dogs for not having the chance to eat the food that I can't keep down. And the people around me watch as I keep regurgitating my food, and they say "It happens to the best of us, let me know if you need anything." I need to leave this table. But if there really is no other table out there, I guess I can stick it out & try to eat people food. Even though I am a dog.
0
Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
I got that dog in me
I have always been a dog at the end of a great table And everyone at the table is eating a feast. Some eat & eat & eat, while others peck here and there. Some won't eat because they're too busy talking and laughing. And some are visibly eager for the feast to end. "I wish they had better food instead of this slop" one says. Another has found a hair & a bone in their food. "Gross" they continue to hesitantly eat around it. Every once in a while someone will hand me a scrap just so I know what it tastes like. So I know what I'm missing out on. "One day you'll be up here. Hell, sometimes I wish I didn't have to eat all this junk. But you get used to it, like we all do." I take their word for it. And then I'm sitting at the table. But I'm still a dog. I've been dressed up like a person, & trained to present myself like a person. But I'm still a dog, sitting in front of people my age. The people my age begin to feast. It seems like they know which foods to eat slowly because it's too hot or cold. They could tell which food had bones & seeds that needed to be removed. They knew when to take breaks from eating to spare themselves from tummy aches. And Most Importantly they begin to talk amongst themselves & start to build connections & an order of who would lead these conversations. And I'm still a dog. I start to eat from the plate in front of me and immediately throw it all back up. I had eaten too much. I didn't know. Embarrassed, I stop eating & just watch the eaters around me. I study the way they eat, the way they talk, the way they smile & look around. I want to copy what I see. I try talking to the ones sitting next to me, and they respond with kindness. But they could tell that I was just pretending. They knew I was still a dog. I keep studying and I become decent at talking. My brothers are very skilled eaters almost like it's just natural to them. I frequently compare myself. "Why can't I eat & talk like them?" I'd ask myself this, completely forgetting that I'm still a dog. "All in good time, you just have to keep growing up." They tell me this, knowing fully well that I'm just a dog, and for some reason refusing to acknowledge that. I keep eating & keep throwing up, because no matter how much I study those around me I am still a dog sitting at a table with a feast for people. But the table is the only one seen for miles in every direction. Dad and Mom say that once you leave the table you can never return. So, I have to eat by the rules and stay until the end or else I'm wasting the opportunity Given to me by the Large Man at the end of the table who is the most important person to ever exist. "If you eat enough, and eat correctly, you get to sit by Him & talk to Him & that should make you love sitting at this table." Sure, the food is delicious and the people are kind. But I'm still a dog, regurgitating all the food I try to eat, because this feast wasn't meant for me. I didn't notice before, but there are other dogs roaming about. They're not allowed to sit at the table and eat the feast, and we pity them. I pity other dogs for not having the chance to eat the food that I can't keep down. And the people around me watch as I keep regurgitating my food, and they say "It happens to the best of us, let me know if you need anything." I need to leave this table. But if there really is no other table out there, I guess I can stick it out & try to eat people food. Even though I am a dog.
Continue reading...
107
Surrounded by the murkiest shades of grey I find myself torn, lost and dazed A heart forlorn, longing for the blissful days Of just black and white, so plush and plain.
0
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 2:24 AM UTC
Adult-ing