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#picking
What kind of instinct does this? Makes me pick and peel at my lips Reopen wounds for the appeal And pick at scabs that never heal My nails tear and shred at skin To get to flesh that lies within Freckled skin that looks like stars A mind that only leads to scars
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Dec 26, 2025
Dec 26, 2025 at 5:08 PM UTC
Quit Picking
I hate having skin A blank canvas wrapping my bones Like an artist selecting her tones It’s ready to be cut when I’m alone Drawing with crimson hues Picking each pore causing a bruise Adding some much needed blues Nails carving a well defined track Blood drying into black As my fingers finish their attack Stepping back to admire my design Letting all the colors combine Finally ready to be signed
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Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 10:27 PM UTC
Canvas
I was fine with waiting; the breeze of melancholy carries with it the distant smell of blossoming flowers. If waiting means I can spend my time imagining those flowers, whose nectar, whose petals, entrance me with such splendour, then I do not mind waiting. At times, I envy those who chose to pluck from the ground the flowers they had cherished. But I... Alas. How I long for a past I did not have.
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Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 1:47 PM UTC
Picking flowers in a meadow
I hope you find a flower, one that's very pretty It doesn't need to be any certain colour, I just hope you like it and I hope that flower reminds you - you found this pretty and that is _wonderful_
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Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
i made this for you
Forty tears were pooled in his eyes. A reality of hardship sunk in Capsizing a boat of fears. his parents had left him a penniless bloke his time would be spent trying to stay afloat The daily news would house all the jahbs the other families & friends were pointing him away from trouble He would meet a new boss. A stomach never tiring of crisscrosses When he sat -down inspection began Was he trusted to be a stan Finally accepted he began forging minerals The door closed at the home. The company issued tools. Heavy iron forged together with mighty wood. Clear yellow lights illuminated the mine’s dark A new spot would be all to him. He began picking and digging The earth's rocks, and dirt. Learning other names was to be his strong suit. But ability and strength left him with cahoots. Soon heart's pumped laughs Sending echo’s down the earth mine's shaft Curing the ailed eyes Of a boy with no ties
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Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 10:35 AM UTC
Mine Shaft of Laughs
there's a world inside your mind and it wants you to find a place for others, without changing the bookshelves the music or the way that you walk through the door. It might be the means of replacing the fear which stops you from living and giving and laughing as yourself.
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Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 8:30 AM UTC
step into yourself
A frost had already settled late that night Into the tenth hour, when most would be sleeping All was quiet and cold on the front When the stars presented themselves, you presented yourself to the sky I imagine as gracefully as sunrise Quiet and unsuspecting, it sprang on us like an early spring When winter turns to spring and daisies push their way through the dirt when the transition is done I'll think of your fight to push through life, yet open yourself up just as flower petals open to this world Even though you passed in winter, spring will remind us of you After a harsh winter, spring will be there to guide us, whether we've made peace with the season, whether we're ready and however early We'll pick daisies to take you with us on this spring's journey
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
Picking Daisies
There’s something interesting to notice When one shares their poems Out there For one and all to see There are certain patterns Certain people That read certain poetry When I write short, sweet, to the point Two lines Or three Certain people flock When I write long With depth, almost like a story Others stalk Then when I let out my inner cynic, Try something new Rant out my views I get a whole nother crowd all together Comprising sometimes, those from the former two as well Some go for depressing, Trying to find someone who matches Their own soulful nature Others would rather settle For some lighthearted fun And still yet more Would choose something else And I wonder how do you choose How do you pick amongst the multitudes? Do you even care? Or is it what’s right in front of your eyes? Perhaps it’s based on what you like to write? What you’d like to do? What you’d like to be? Who you’d like to be? Is there even an answer key? Is there ever?
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC
Who Reads my Poems?
Aztec gold-brown soil between rows and rows of summer green invites berry-gatherers shorts and sun hats baskets in hand techniques unique to each stooping for close inspection looking for perfection color, form, ripeness choosing one by one bending just enough to grab handfuls in a hurry sun beats down wiping brow others mosey enjoying the peace of this stretch of land so well tended so bounteous best approach little child plopped down near the beginning hand to mouth fast as she can crimson juice coloring lips drips down chin beneath contented impish smile
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
June Strawberries
Life is a fall, we just got to realize that were the ones picking up. And the only defeat is when we don't try. Life is getting up, and knowing were the ones that stood tall, without hands out to others... Were the ones that lifted ourselves up..
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Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
When We Temporarily Fall
Ooooh baby listen up God made you for me and me for you which became a blessing for us but life keeps getting in the way and when ever we try somehow the plan is always rearrange and I know how much you need me and it breaks my heart believe me baby it seems like forever that I waited for you in a world of disappointment and lonely people but one thing is true but we gotta go our own way and I really don't want to leave it all behind but we get our hopes up and we watch them fall every time and it's so hard to watch it slowly fade away and he said what about us? What about everything we been through? What about trust? And that I know he never wanted to hurt me and I said I know and I'm going to miss you so much that it's going to hurt me more than it hurts you and baby it's something about you that makes me want to stay and work it out.
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Stay Or Go (Don't Know)
picking and scratching my skin bleeding the scars all over remind me of certain times in my life when the stress got too much to handle and I sat in the bathroom for hours destroying the body that was given to me burning down my humble abode just picking and scratching away at my sanity which I'm not sure I ever really had the scars that I get comments on daily 'Did you try to hurt yourself?' 'Are you alright?' 'Are you being abused or unsupervised?' no answer really just staring at them; whilst picking at my scabs in that blissful agony that I love to feel
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Dermatillomania
You quote from Leviticus Call me an abomination As you eat cheeseburgers And claim a Christian nation. You don’t ****** daughters Who have had unmarried love Yet, demonizing gay people Fits you like an expensive glove. You vilify your children daily And quote the bible to boot, While you work on the Sabbath In your fine mixed-fabric suit. You talk so glibly about us Out of both sides of your mouth. You are embarrassing examples Of the sickness of the Old South. You just ain’t right. Your head’s on wrong. Your hypocritical ravings Are the cause of this song. You’re a liar and a nut And you’re halfway crazy. We'd make laws against you But we’re too **** lazy. You wave your hands and pray In public so you are well seen. You copy your Christianity From the latest People magazine. Your idea of pious philosophy Is way off the Christian track. If I ever shake hands with you I’ll count the fingers I get back. You just ain’t right. Your head’s on wrong. Your hypocritical ravings Are the cause of this song. You’re a liar and a nut And you’re halfway crazy. We'd make laws against you But we’re too **** lazy.
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
CHURCHY LURCHY
Business men pick their noses in trains. They think no one sees them but I haven't forgotten the many hands that they shake.
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
****** off
I gave you everything. I showed you things I'd never shown to anyone before. I believed in you. I kissed you. I slept with you. I was in love with you. I felt used. I felt ***** After that day, I couldn't see myself in the mirror. I was disgusted with myself. In the end I realized that I was in love with the idea of you. But why? I have no idea.
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
But why?
I tear away at my skin as a coping mechanism for many things. It's tragic, really...tearing away at the vessel that carries me through my attempts to save myself from the world I live in.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Scars
Picking petals like you picked apart my heart. each piece drifts slowly to the ground You loved me, you love me not. Petal by petal. Piece by piece. Till nothing's left but a vacant stem, an empty vessel. Left to wither away never can be whole again, can't get back what's been taken. You loved me. You love me not. I envy the flower, for while it dies after being picked and torn to peices. I survive, these injuries won't **** me but I'll never be the same. so i'll continue picking petals You loved me. You love me not.
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Picking Petals
my face smashed against the concrete when you kicked me from your life; i'm still picking jagged stones from the spaces between my teeth. because of this, i don't smile anymore.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
rocks.
I should have known it wouldn't last, And alas, our time has passed, I was good and submissive, But you were dismissive, And I don't know what I can do. You liked me, adored me, You though I was sweet. But today, you called me, And said you could see, We were not meant to be, Because of what we believe. I know I'm so young, And sweet, and naive, I know it's crazy, But I believe, That age doesn't matter, not to me. But I guess I should see, Only friends we will be, But these Tim Eyes will always remain.
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Naivete