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#inspiredby
i couldn't let go the things i could have let gone. i should've not let, the things i shouldn't let go, go. but instead, i would've let go all the things i will have. and now it is gone and i am going to get it back once more.
0
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 11:15 AM UTC
an ode to the bygones and going forward.
one step forward, two steps back— one step closer, and I’ll fall in the cracks. hurry now, boys, time won’t wait. the judgement of past conflicts decides my fate. a song and rhythm I didn’t choose— the beat’s got me hooked, and I’m about to blow a fuse. greeted by the monsters in my head, trying to make sense of this existential dread. I just want it to fast-forward— to end. hypnotic, so hypnotic, it’s hard to unwind; every twist and turn makes it harder to find— and get back to baseline. hurry now, boys, time won’t wait. the judgement of past conflicts decides my fate.
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Nov 22, 2025
Nov 22, 2025 at 4:32 AM UTC
judgement of the beat
in the la summer, the heat doesn't whisper it swells and the hottest of the places were the buses big greenhouses on wheels but i rode them, for i had no car and if i did it would've been stolen even though i moved away from hidden hills and now lived on the face of the sun after a while, i found my own ways to rebel drink gin out of my water bottle on the trip back home, sit in the elderly and handicapped section and that was what i was doing when she entered the bus she was obviously ancient and walked with a cane so of course i moved to the side as she passed me the first thing i noticed other than her skin that was almost purple was the tattoo of the number 7 across her cheek and no, this wasn't a young woman not the type to spend late nights recording raps for soundcloud in the back of a crack house we looked through each other for a second, and then she said to me do you see it? i shook my head i didn't know what she even meant then she extended her hands and still, nothing was there do you see it, she said again i said no she sighed i have so much to tell you, young woman so much you need to know i nodded because when a crazy old woman says things like that to you you nod and smile so much you need to know her eyes were misted over like lakes in the winter time, cream in the bowl of a tabby cat we sat in silence for a good while, and then she looked at me again in the summer, back home she said when we left school me and my friends would go drinking there was a place called the golden shovel and they had a huge pool table me and mary would play, smoke cigarettes and listen to jazz it was the only time i felt like i was alive but when the cops came mary was there, and i wasn't they shot her dead they said the bar was a hideout for everything good and black that my mother told me i should stand for seven died, and they said the golden shovel was used to dig graves i got this last year she raised a long, peeling finger to her cheek, pointing at the seven the bus ground to a halt as she put her finger down i looked at her this is my stop she said before giving me a folded piece of paper this is a poem i wrote i took it and opened it, but by the time i read it, she was already gone *We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.*
0
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
after gwendolyn brooks' we real cool and snap judgement's the orange
in the la summer, the heat doesn't whisper it swells and the hottest of the places were the buses big greenhouses on wheels but i rode them, for i had no car and if i did it would've been stolen even though i moved away from hidden hills and now lived on the face of the sun after a while, i found my own ways to rebel drink gin out of my water bottle on the trip back home, sit in the elderly and handicapped section and that was what i was doing when she entered the bus she was obviously ancient and walked with a cane so of course i moved to the side as she passed me the first thing i noticed other than her skin that was almost purple was the tattoo of the number 7 across her cheek and no, this wasn't a young woman not the type to spend late nights recording raps for soundcloud in the back of a crack house we looked through each other for a second, and then she said to me do you see it? i shook my head i didn't know what she even meant then she extended her hands and still, nothing was there do you see it, she said again i said no she sighed i have so much to tell you, young woman so much you need to know i nodded because when a crazy old woman says things like that to you you nod and smile so much you need to know her eyes were misted over like lakes in the winter time, cream in the bowl of a tabby cat we sat in silence for a good while, and then she looked at me again in the summer, back home she said when we left school me and my friends would go drinking there was a place called the golden shovel and they had a huge pool table me and mary would play, smoke cigarettes and listen to jazz it was the only time i felt like i was alive but when the cops came mary was there, and i wasn't they shot her dead they said the bar was a hideout for everything good and black that my mother told me i should stand for seven died, and they said the golden shovel was used to dig graves i got this last year she raised a long, peeling finger to her cheek, pointing at the seven the bus ground to a halt as she put her finger down i looked at her this is my stop she said before giving me a folded piece of paper this is a poem i wrote i took it and opened it, but by the time i read it, she was already gone *We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.*
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109
Equality Has to be served Gifted 'Cause it is deserved. America is a place To express The emotions you face.
0
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
Freedom
"And I'll be holding onto you" -- Tшεптч ∅пε Pıʟøтƨ Whether you allow me to hold on to you, I will not let go. All this pain, let me in.. it could be just us two. You are allowing for this pain to **** you slow. It hurts to see you suffering like this. I'm here on the edge of a cliff, my hand gripping onto yours tightly. I'm trying to pull you up, but you're so stiff. Please, let me see, let me see your face.. Don't look away, hold on. I'll stay here as long as it takes. You're not gone, not because of some silly mistake. She's gone, she's no longer a part of you. I'll keep holding onto the thing that matters to me the most. That thing, is you...open your eyes. I'm right in front of you, I'm not a ghost. I'm human, my cries... they are real. I'm real. I'm the person that's holding your hand from slipping off the cliff.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
Holding Onto You
every last word was for you those that i didn’t know how couldn’t ever say i was always afraid how do i do this me and you so i never showed you my other other side i’m not ready for the trainwreck i’ll inevitably cause my thoughts derail hold me prisoner going full speed she’s so real she’s always there she doesn’t exist she’s my friend she is me this is me i love us i really meant every last word - -z.z
0
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
//every last word//