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#peep
prayed for peace but wasn’t specific lingering around here until indifference cannot cling, cannot cry cannot blame anyone but I checked my compass for navigation the eruption happened without witness cannot look, cannot peep cannot blame anyone but me the smoke, the dirt the magic is my hurt the clouds, the rain nourish me until i break
0
Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 9:13 AM UTC
Eruption
Let me breathe;🧘🏻‍♀️ with the breeze, where sun is shining, with a peep..🫣 It seems as carpet; of some blooms, 🌸 that make a vibe; full of gleams 🥰
0
Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 4:11 AM UTC
Blossom tree
Now you LAY YOURSELF down to SLEEP, KNOWLEDGE is POWER these LYRICS are DEEP, CLOSE YOUR EYES and COUNT THOSE SHEEP, Don't make a SOUND, nor even a PEEP. Close your eyes and GO TO BED, Why you STILL UP??? "YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID!!" If YOU'RE having a RESTLESS NIGHT, Why don't you just START TO WRITE. If you had a REALLY ROUGH DAY, I suggest that YOU SHOULD PRAY, Consult the LORD, HE'LL SEE YOU THROUGH, WEARY and TIRED and FEELING SO BLUE, Get on up, and START TO WRITE, LIFT YOUR SPIRITS and FEEL DELIGHT OTHERS, can use some INSPIRING, WELL, so can you, MOST DEFINITELY!!! Rhyming on time LIKE FLOATRY, LAYING DOWN LINES, have NO WORRIES!!! A POSTITIVE ASPECT, OH YES INDEED These line WILL ENCOURAGE, OH CAN'T YOU SEE!!! Now, this is my NIGHTTIME POETRY!!! B.R. Date: 9/11/2024
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Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 7:20 PM UTC
NIGHTTIME POETRY!!!
have you ever seen a Big Horn Sheep they wander about with nary a peep they climb on rocks like they're not even there jump all around without any care their beauty is amazing, their magnificence divine just seeing one is lucky and that's by design be careful and quiet when the chance comes your way observing these animals will make for a great day... Brian Hill - 2020 # 300
0
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 10:25 AM UTC
Big Horn
i almost had a midlife crisis and dyed my hair a soft baby pink it woulda been pretty pair it with a tattoo under my eye a broken heart on one side a sparkling star on the other but then i thought to myself, it’s not exactly a midlife crisis if i’m only 16 more of a quarter life crisis not nearly as dramatic so i settled for painting my nails pink instead
0
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 12:49 AM UTC
hellboy
It may be only a little pearl. But someone reached out to it peeping in the giant sea.
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Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC
A small little Pearl
I’ll still be here.
0
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Even In My Grave
After Danez Smith's Dinosaurs in the Hood Let's make a movie called Lil Peep In Heaven Transpotting meets 8 Mile meets six xanax bars There should be a scene where Lil Peep climbs up a few flights of Stairs and makes it to the pearly gates, because there has to be pearly Gates Don't let Bella Thorne star in this. In her version she tongue-kisses Peep, Chews scenery in platform boots and bright pink Ripped jeans. **** that, Peep has a tattoo removed By a saint, his laser is proof of all that is good I want a scene where Peep throws his pill bottles At Ganesha, a scene where Allah tells Peep he'll Rot in his grave forever if he doesn't stop His antics. Don't let GothBoiClique hold a Funeral for Gustav. I don't want any of that Sentimental **** about love and how life is too Short. This movie is about a man/boytoy/ugly and dying thing, Restarting his life with all the real-ass gods and patron saints and Deities Of every religion and every afterlife I don't want some funny, dreadhead living in LA with a tattooed stick And poke commanding presence. This is not a vehicle for someone to Play Peep, this is a vehicle for Peep to play himself.] I want his ******* white or not, praying. I want them far from their Knees. I want Lil Peep to ride in a Benz truck down from the clouds, Screaming with spittle flying from his mouth the entire time. I want Layla to post another video of Gustav slapping pans together Like a child. And I want Peep to see it all. But this can't be a death movie. This can't be a death movie. This Movie can't be dismissed because it's too dark, or that a dead man is Playing the leading role. This movie can't be about crying, or cause people to cry. This movie can't be about a long history of emo coming To an end. This movie can't be about dying. No one can say Peep is a pill-popping ******* who deserved his death Who wouldn't say it to his cadaver. No big pharmacy jokes in this movie. No bar, capsules or gels in the heroes, and Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies. Besides, the only reason I want to make this movie is for the first scene anyway; Lil Peep climbing up the cloudy stairs, his eyes dilated & empty                                    the heaven before him filled with congratulations
0
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
Lil Peep In Heaven
After Danez Smith's Dinosaurs in the Hood Let's make a movie called Lil Peep In Heaven Transpotting meets 8 Mile meets six xanax bars There should be a scene where Lil Peep climbs up a few flights of Stairs and makes it to the pearly gates, because there has to be pearly Gates Don't let Bella Thorne star in this. In her version she tongue-kisses Peep, Chews scenery in platform boots and bright pink Ripped jeans. **** that, Peep has a tattoo removed By a saint, his laser is proof of all that is good I want a scene where Peep throws his pill bottles At Ganesha, a scene where Allah tells Peep he'll Rot in his grave forever if he doesn't stop His antics. Don't let GothBoiClique hold a Funeral for Gustav. I don't want any of that Sentimental **** about love and how life is too Short. This movie is about a man/boytoy/ugly and dying thing, Restarting his life with all the real-ass gods and patron saints and Deities Of every religion and every afterlife I don't want some funny, dreadhead living in LA with a tattooed stick And poke commanding presence. This is not a vehicle for someone to Play Peep, this is a vehicle for Peep to play himself.] I want his ******* white or not, praying. I want them far from their Knees. I want Lil Peep to ride in a Benz truck down from the clouds, Screaming with spittle flying from his mouth the entire time. I want Layla to post another video of Gustav slapping pans together Like a child. And I want Peep to see it all. But this can't be a death movie. This can't be a death movie. This Movie can't be dismissed because it's too dark, or that a dead man is Playing the leading role. This movie can't be about crying, or cause people to cry. This movie can't be about a long history of emo coming To an end. This movie can't be about dying. No one can say Peep is a pill-popping ******* who deserved his death Who wouldn't say it to his cadaver. No big pharmacy jokes in this movie. No bar, capsules or gels in the heroes, and Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies. Besides, the only reason I want to make this movie is for the first scene anyway; Lil Peep climbing up the cloudy stairs, his eyes dilated & empty                                    the heaven before him filled with congratulations
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26
stay put, flippant cloud, swaddle baby sun just born, see, how he peeps down!
0
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
Our sun is born!
You think you know every little crack, every crevice in my soul; yet there is so much of my life’s book that you haven’t read. My hair is a carefully styled mess, strategically placed static, and my lips are what they are- lonely. Sometimes I think you wonder about who I am, my origins; I can’t say that I don’t either. How’d I end up as such as mistake? You love me for what you say are perfections, yet you see not the real me, you see the front I put up, my acting. How can one be addicted to a person who doesn’t even know themself? Yet loving you makes me want to learn. We both **** the life, the very being from each other; yet it is still not enough. I want to hook myself to you like an IV, to pull the gold running through your veins into my conciousness and let it light me. If there was a way to evaporate your essence and save it in a bottle for later, I’d be the scientist who discovered the way to do it. The very scent of you carried on the air from yards away is enough to register me for a few centuries in an asylum. You say you barely wearr cologne, and I understand it. You wear yourself, a fragrance I wish I could rub all over myself every second of every day, every time I curl up in a ball on my bed after you drive home at night, wondering why it is you can’t just stay. You belong to the road, you’ve sold your soul to the feeling of the wind in your hair. I can’t break your contract with independence, but I can tag along for the ride. Seeing you so happy, getting your racer’s tan, blaring the radio until the speakers want to scream. Why can’t I partake in your happiness? I wish there was a way for us to share the love for the world that you have; in its’ place in my mind is loathing. The only reason for living I have is you- and all I ask of you is to answer this one question; how have you fallen for this fallen angel, the outcast of society, the girl whom everyone forgot to remember and who you didn’t remember to forget?
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
Remember (Repost)
You think you know every little crack, every crevice in my soul; yet there is so much of my life’s book that you haven’t read. My hair is a carefully styled mess, strategically placed static, and my lips are what they are- lonely. Sometimes I think you wonder about who I am, my origins; I can’t say that I don’t either. How’d I end up as such as mistake? You love me for what you say are perfections, yet you see not the real me, you see the front I put up, my acting. How can one be addicted to a person who doesn’t even know themself? Yet loving you makes me want to learn. We both **** the life, the very being from each other; yet it is still not enough. I want to hook myself to you like an IV, to pull the gold running through your veins into my conciousness and let it light me. If there was a way to evaporate your essence and save it in a bottle for later, I’d be the scientist who discovered the way to do it. The very scent of you carried on the air from yards away is enough to register me for a few centuries in an asylum. You say you barely wearr cologne, and I understand it. You wear yourself, a fragrance I wish I could rub all over myself every second of every day, every time I curl up in a ball on my bed after you drive home at night, wondering why it is you can’t just stay. You belong to the road, you’ve sold your soul to the feeling of the wind in your hair. I can’t break your contract with independence, but I can tag along for the ride. Seeing you so happy, getting your racer’s tan, blaring the radio until the speakers want to scream. Why can’t I partake in your happiness? I wish there was a way for us to share the love for the world that you have; in its’ place in my mind is loathing. The only reason for living I have is you- and all I ask of you is to answer this one question; how have you fallen for this fallen angel, the outcast of society, the girl whom everyone forgot to remember and who you didn’t remember to forget?
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3
i just want my eyelashes against your cheeks.
0
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 12:20 PM UTC
Musing 1
*Dearest: If I could touch you just once, then I'd be whole, I swear. Sitting here letting youtube shuffle like the muddled thoughts within my mind, you're all that won't dissipate into thin air. All Time Low, then church tomorrow morning, why won't you leave? Are you lonely? Do you need someplace to stay for a while? Well, my arms and ears are open. Stay here a while. Rest. Everyone says "shes an invalid" and "she needs help", but I know it's not true. Because if she feels half what I feel, all she needs is me. And I need her more than the breaths I take, the words I write, and the ideas I spout. One day, we'll be together again, angel, angel, angel. My angel. My one and only angel. And I can't wait for the day I can roll over in this same bed where we kissed and see your sleeping eyelashes fluttering admist your sleeping sighs. I won't be doing much sleeping. I promise.*
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Letter # 1
The stark realization that you're not here but rather, you were here in this bed, in these sheets, these arms....it hits me like a wave of lightning. Tears turn to snow, fears turn to a numbing glow, and I miss you... Yet I know the rising operatic voices of the symphony of hope that plays in the background of my life's video game will rise higher than the brightest sunset and deepest tidal wave...because ironically, you miss me too. Through all my faults and accidentally elbowing you in the stomach and growling at you just because I know you hate it....you still miss me. How, I don't quite understand, and no matter how many times you try to show me, I'll still never get it, I'll just be mesmerized by the rave lights dancing in your eyes pulsing to the beat of my jack rabbit heart. Why can't we slow? Why can't we insist this isn't real, that we are going to wake up, why can't we agree to pinch each other to prove that reality is indeed upon us, that awakening to smell the roses is better than dreaming about them? Yet I find myself amidst the ardour of their smell and realize it is in fact an olfactory experience, and not a shift of the bored, school-ridden mind. Yes, you are real, far away- 1700 miles, in fact- but you are real; my fingers could touch a screen against your digitized fingerprints and somewhere, some way, you'd feel something pressing back gently as the dew. Because I'm here. And I love you. And I don't want us to end. Ever.
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
Jack Rabbit Heart
Darling? Darling? Darling? I love you, I swear it. I'm not upset, I swear it. I'm safe, I swear it. I'm better- can you believe that? We say I love you over the phone in an echoing tone Over and over and over again. It is only now that I realize it's for each and every day we cannot talk, so that not a day goes by without being filled with one. And I smile at this realization. And I hope you do too. You're beautiful with a smile and without. But seeing that smile gives me so much hope, angel. And I love you. I love you. I love you.
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Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
Echoes
I love the feel of teeth and how they were used when you punctured my skin and let out the blood beneath. {Oh, I love your teeth} when we used the air between our cheeks to push it out under tongues before we fell asleep. And I love the stains across those cheeks. The streams sting after they settle. After it spills on our bed sheets. But these day were made to suffer and I'm the one to blame because if I'm suffering alone | it will keep you sane. | | And you'll never stay the same. | | and I'll dampen all your pain. | so that in case you're coming down I'll fall in your place. Because there's absolutely nowhere for me to go absolutely nowhere but into your dreams into your head where I pray you still keep me. But I am the martyr and I'm not done bleeding
0
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
Sleep
A solid ships mast Washed upon the shore Screams of an injustice And a half upon the floor The lives of the forgotten Swallowed whole by their love Down deep into the belly Never 'gain to look above But regret be there not When her mouth is open wide For death be a meager price To catch a glimpse of her peaceful tide
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Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
The Sailor's Seas
I hear the rain wash my ears a fresh awakening
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Fresh (10w)
I stayed to show you the stars But as it turns out, you fell asleep I shouted and I screamed But my cries wouldn't wake your breath Oh, I curse your being, For it makes me all the more human. So I split the earthly seams To lay you beneath her sheets But your hands, they wouldn't let me go And my heart was tucked in with yours Oh, I miss your being, For it makes me all the more human. How the flower's songs glide gently upon the breeze! And your hues grow vibrantly throughout all my days! Oh, I love your being, For it makes me all the more human.
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
I stayed to show you the stars
Simply smiling Lenses glazed Words are running Drums to the brim                     Do I hear it? Sons and daughters Parties, flowers This or that Something, something, yada...                     Maybe not. Feet untethered Yoke unbound Sailing starward Glimpsing upon fey                     I don't care to hear it.
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Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
lost
What goes on behind these curtains? glitzy rags golden beams mass excess An elegant array of humanoid copies, simple smiles knotted shoes plastered hair Supporting cordial conversations. hollow words posturing righteousness My what chained dogs they are! Your masters the upper echelon Pity the prisoners of preconceived morality. what a shame empty minds perfect squares
0
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 10:47 AM UTC
The Pointes Apt. 2A
You have softer hands than I, An amusing touch. And your voice reverberates in my head like a bell. I wait for every word, already knowing whats to come. You ghosts upon my shoulders, I've never broken our grasp.
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
You have softer hands than I
Fumbling through his pockets Sore fingers grasping wildly He procures his kerchief Dabs the edges, pats them dry And the wind blows softly Ruffles her strong hair Tossed waves of auburn Gentle to see Sun-lit skin, gilded bold Broken never, smoothness Fashioned hands, slender fingers Burgundy eyes, deep and deeper And the old form sat ragged Tears spilling onto yellowed photos "I'll see you soon, I'll see you soon, My young, young love."
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
The Pointes Apt. 1C
Artists we      do knit and twine      our heartstrings into words, Plucking chords      to ***** the skin      so we bleed upon the page, Hardly cope      but only feel      the sorrow paramount, I reason none      but just to paint      with songs of flying birds.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Artists we