#playdoh - Hello Poetry

Plato Play-doh

0

Dec 14, 2019

Dec 14, 2019 at 3:38 PM UTC

eyes glazed, passing... at magnificence... this doldrum... muddy browns... streaks of green... an ever changing blues... a sudden crackling in synapses erupting through the real! a pale iris gaining electric sheen! a meaningless menagerie collapsing into an expanse! within this little slab of goo!?

0

May 20, 2018

May 20, 2018 at 4:13 AM UTC

n0r

What Is

eyes glazed, passing... at magnificence... this doldrum... muddy browns... streaks of green... an ever changing blues... a sudden crackling in synapses erupting through the real! a pale iris gaining electric sheen! a meaningless menagerie collapsing into an expanse! within this little slab of goo!?

13

it feels like the blood inside my veins is moving like quick dry cement does ten hours after it's poured simultaneously a storm brews in them similar to how mom once brewed soup that tasted of distanced family and bile bile which still resides in a clump at the back of my throat from the last time i said your name you are he-who-shall-not-be-named since saying your name is as dangerous as saying Voldemort’s monochromatic colour schemes make up my world, each day either tinted or shaded usually shaded because I was told that dark colours are slimming and that thought never left my mind rain smudges all of the pigments together and even my glasses can't correct my vision i love rain but my rainbows are always brown-black like those karate belts you had when you lived or how she used to mix all of her playdoh together i used to believe that she created the world that way god i wish i was right.

0

Apr 29, 2014

Apr 29, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC

vvellthen

my throat is sore

it feels like the blood inside my veins is moving like quick dry cement does ten hours after it's poured simultaneously a storm brews in them similar to how mom once brewed soup that tasted of distanced family and bile bile which still resides in a clump at the back of my throat from the last time i said your name you are he-who-shall-not-be-named since saying your name is as dangerous as saying Voldemort’s monochromatic colour schemes make up my world, each day either tinted or shaded usually shaded because I was told that dark colours are slimming and that thought never left my mind rain smudges all of the pigments together and even my glasses can't correct my vision i love rain but my rainbows are always brown-black like those karate belts you had when you lived or how she used to mix all of her playdoh together i used to believe that she created the world that way god i wish i was right.

13