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#nonchalant
I keep my poems about you in my drawer. For, my feelings are stitched into pieces as delicate as the fabrics I adorn. Should I free them from the wooden box? It’s easier to tuck my written infatuations between my worn socks. Should I cover them up like clothes I use to cloak my skin? Tends to be it’s scarier to bare your soul than your flesh. So I hide secret love letters among cheaply sown mesh— long sleeves, cropped tank tops, skirts, and pants; All the clothing one could think up. Too scared to seem foolish, but I truly am head over heels. Thus, I stay on the brink of becoming bold enough to tell you all that I feel, or playing it cool; and keep pushing all that stuff down deep in my dresser.
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Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 12:17 PM UTC
poems buried in my dresser.
How can you sleep at night when you live to **** and torture children? When your sole focus and purpose is child exploitation? How can you even breathe? How can you drink fresh water, that doesn’t taste of blood… that doesn’t choke you? When all you believe in is hunting down innocence hydrated from mud pools, pulling it from its bud and burning dreams to a crust, calm in your mask of nonchalance… When the child within and the child you’ve broken - watches you perform these abhorrent acts; how does the child within not shake with terror and repulsion, and every morning that you wake try to destroy you?… Where are they? There is no child in you… You are bleak, worthless, worse than sadness, not even material; just the drop of a soulless heartbeat in a void that drags on a **** cigar that will eventually crumble… For now, you will try to butcher fine lands of olive trees and **** the green… But you won’t succeed, because you are nothing but weakness And the distant baby hearts that you heard and shot to order, as well as all of the beautiful, loving and creative creatures that you trampled like flowers; will haunt you… Because you will realise that you have no destination, no duty of virtue… Just a sick parasite heart that was too empty to question evil, but why?… too late to wonder as the foul thing ravens you alive leaving breath in your pupils… and bended buds rise around your frozen inward disgust… But don’t let me stop you, light another **** cigar, in the hope of easing the brain… or there’s always the loaded gun when you finally feel insane…
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 4:41 PM UTC
**** Cigar
How can you sleep at night when you live to **** and torture children? When your sole focus and purpose is child exploitation? How can you even breathe? How can you drink fresh water, that doesn’t taste of blood… that doesn’t choke you? When all you believe in is hunting down innocence hydrated from mud pools, pulling it from its bud and burning dreams to a crust, calm in your mask of nonchalance… When the child within and the child you’ve broken - watches you perform these abhorrent acts; how does the child within not shake with terror and repulsion, and every morning that you wake try to destroy you?… Where are they? There is no child in you… You are bleak, worthless, worse than sadness, not even material; just the drop of a soulless heartbeat in a void that drags on a **** cigar that will eventually crumble… For now, you will try to butcher fine lands of olive trees and **** the green… But you won’t succeed, because you are nothing but weakness And the distant baby hearts that you heard and shot to order, as well as all of the beautiful, loving and creative creatures that you trampled like flowers; will haunt you… Because you will realise that you have no destination, no duty of virtue… Just a sick parasite heart that was too empty to question evil, but why?… too late to wonder as the foul thing ravens you alive leaving breath in your pupils… and bended buds rise around your frozen inward disgust… But don’t let me stop you, light another **** cigar, in the hope of easing the brain… or there’s always the loaded gun when you finally feel insane…
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"act nonchalant" "im so nonchalant" "oh my gosh he is so mysterious!" "why is she so mysterious and serious?" nonchalant this, mysterious that, what about smiling? showing your feelings? showing your happiness? laughing is better than being nonchalant and mysterious. smiling is better than being numb and serious. living your best life is better than being somber and enigmatic. smile in photos. laugh with your friends. scream at concerts. dance at parties -- or even at the store when a good song echoes through the speakers. be you. not this nonchalant, mysterious, serious, numb, somber and enigmatic version of you. because its not you.
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Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 10:15 AM UTC
be yourself
in the morning, i will feign ignorance, pretending to be fast asleep and unaware as you pull on your shirt and socks we should have been theater concentrators, like, if we never talk about it, it just never happened you're just so nonchalant, and i'm just melodramatic and i'm never satisfied unless it's something tragically comic so tonight, let's pretend to be enemies, let's become lovers, let's drown in shared regrets, get too familiar with each other after all, tomorrow, when we wake, it'll all be over your missing friends and my crushing hangover will, once again, inevitably, reduce us to strangers
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Feb 28, 2024
Feb 28, 2024 at 1:10 AM UTC
i (don't) want to be your lover (in the dark)
Subtlety, and nonchalant Brace reality and confront What needs to be Arriving at decisions carefully Meditative & decisively, But knowing when to be abrupt Head held high, chin up, Shoulders squared,  Ready to face what's in front Dissected corpses of the past Left in the lab Behind the frontal lobe History is, Things that have come to pass And things still yet to unfold
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Apr 20, 2023
Apr 20, 2023 at 3:01 PM UTC
Big Round Globe
The glistening glare of dawn, Dampens my view, My eyes are all blurry, Yet I seem to see it all. The hollow shell that I am, Fondled with the color of dawn, Seem to find myself yet again, The perpetuality of dawn, And its evenness, Makes me jealous and nonchalant, Yet I seem to sense nought. I find myself thinking yet again, All these moments are irreproducible. I wonder when I said this before
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Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 9:28 PM UTC
The dawn
I float through life, Ignoring the strife, No kids and no wife, And I’m fine. I’ll listen or not, I’ll like what I’ve got, I’ll not take a lot, I'll Not whine. I’ll drink all the night, I'll Fight if I like, Then I might steal a bike, Now it’s mine. I’ll guzzle some whiskey, I'll do something risky, Then I might get frisky And find. A fine willing woman, Not boring or wooden, Lay on sheets a'woollen, Bedtime. I’ll wake up tomorrow, Some money I’ll borrow, And then I will swallow, Some wine. I’ll do it all over, A young Irish Rover, You better move over, Einstein. I’m young and I'm clever, And I’ll do whatever, Whatever the weather, I’ll shine.
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 6:32 AM UTC
Young Invincibility
…I took a “pass” on Life, so I could graduate in Heaven…
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Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 3:58 AM UTC
NONCHALANT: Life Crossed My Mind...
It's finally over, I'm breaking out of you, You were a cage in disguise of a shell. You were coated gold, I couldn't see the black beneath you. I thought you were a shell of light weight, But the truth was you were actually not there; To protect me neither love me. You made me believe that love was still. But, little did i know that love was a nonchalant tornado.
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
Nonchalant Tornado
The pile of books The array of papers They long-await that ink will pour on their vacuous void of emptiness For the deadline draws near Yet I'm still here Sitting on my windowsill Lackadaisically waiting Certainly expecting For water to descend From the firmament surrounded by dullness where a mass of clouds are there to be seen
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Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC
Suspension
a meeting of geese wouldn't abet their cold and stranded with nonchalant only to harry this land with ware that their untold riches could indeed  tangle my heart here wreched winter blew my nose
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Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
Canada
I thought I knew you But you were just aloof They said: he's lone wolf, lone wolf But I say: he's more like lion, look at the proof Sneaking, reaching for what he desires Him and mercy have never met in person
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Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 10:38 PM UTC
Wolf | Lion
Take a look around and rub the smog out of your eyes Back and forth wipe that mirror of disguise Stuck in a frozen grocery store 2 and five won't get you past that door Spit out you soul Spit out those lies Travel straight past the checkout sign Grab him for a few days or nights Self medicate with the one you like
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Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 5:41 AM UTC
Do you want to be saved?
I care, But sometimes I wish I didn't... I wish I didn't know how cruel the world is, But I do. The more I know, The more I hate people around me, Hate on people who don't even try to understand, To see, To care, But I also envy them, I remember how much easier being selfish is, When you simply do not know better... Can I proceed perfectly, both empathically and practically? Am I too weak? Too selfish to surrender to my ethics and moral? Will my life be better if I suppress what I've learned, ignore my inner voice and follow blindly the path ahead, no extra thoughts or worries? Just living, simply being, following instincts that's been taught upon us, Because that's how it's meant to be, Even when it feels as ****** up as can be, When everything inside you screams it's wrong, But your selfish mind pulls you in, Convinces you to continue to sin, It's like you'll never win, Because what's comfortable is safe, What's safe is comfortable, So you try to forget as good as you can, To continue to live for you, Not for them.
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Stupidity