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#saturated
the day was full heat and tasks yet my thoughts remained on you i burned and yearned with fantasy in my mind it twisted and turned as you danced down my hall intoxicated by your song those words deep in my ears i scratched inside to see what remained but I was saturated by you as the day came to a close
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May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Saturated
My brain won't accept any more emotional stupidity. It's literally NOT POSSIBLE. It's taken in as much as it can. Wanna know how I know? I'm not feeling what I'm supposed to be feeling. I can't.
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Nov 6, 2021
Nov 6, 2021 at 10:58 AM UTC
saturated
She felt too many things, so many she couldn't manage to process it all so her brain was often flooded with overwhelming thoughts of how everything could go wrong until she couldn't manage to think anything at all. - saturated.
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
saturated.
The air, saturated with a putrid smell. Foul, like a dumpster in summertime. They're monsters, skulking around in the Dead of Night. Leaving, a sickness in their wake. You're revolting. The way you take. Gnashing your teeth. Trying, to pluck out little hearts. Attempting, to creep up thighs. Don't touch me, with those slimy fingers. Go before you die, rotting beast. We are not a cemetery.
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
We Are Butchers
One may be straight like a saturated fat One maybe bent like an unsaturated fat Or, one could be bent, disguised as straight Like a trans fat
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
Fats
Everyone I know is dead inside So let's throw a party Inside our miserable lives How I love that twist When I manipulate the situation My others strike misdirected Let's fill the empty With motions from the oceans Of our others' lives Let's play chess for battles fought In happy clouds of datura Dusting our design
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Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Devil Devil
we have become saturated sponges, soaking up unrequited love as if it were water but we are running out of air and chasing nostalgia like a blind man would his cane has to stop someday. candy lovers all taste the same, sweet and sour at the same time and bitter too. he told me he was tired of just ******* around tired to coming in second place tired of not being able to breathe because he was a crumpled up dishtowel on that floor than cannot dry because he was tired of absorbing my tears on his shoulder and becoming a monsoon too big to live but too small to make a difference. i said stay he said no i said i'll change he said he didn't think i could i said i was sorry and he said there was no reason to apologize for the truth. but how can i not apologize when i have made you a trophy story to tell my friends when i am drunk and moody because you are no longer by my side. how can the words i'm sorry not be carved into the cave of my mouth, tattooed across my bottom lip with jet black ink when i still call you, just to prove to myself that i am good enough for someone at least how can i not be unyieldingly grateful when you put me back together after i was a broken glass vase and planted flowers in the deepest embers of my imagination. i am sorry. i am sorry that i am too big of a mess to acknowledge that i need help. i am sorry that i am so scared of failure i hide behind big t shirts and razor sharp knives. i am sorry that i lie through my teeth like a magician and get angry when you don't tell me the truth, as if i have a right to deserve it. but most of all, i am sorry that you cannot help but grow flowers in a place where only weeds grow. my body is an abandoned graveyard too beaten down to function and you tried to make it a home and for that, for that most of all i am truly sorry, from the deepest trench at the smallest hole in my skeleton. (h.l.)
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
"i never went to bed **** wine or water did you say something about a cold drink? i don’t know, i’m delirious... night”
we have become saturated sponges, soaking up unrequited love as if it were water but we are running out of air and chasing nostalgia like a blind man would his cane has to stop someday. candy lovers all taste the same, sweet and sour at the same time and bitter too. he told me he was tired of just ******* around tired to coming in second place tired of not being able to breathe because he was a crumpled up dishtowel on that floor than cannot dry because he was tired of absorbing my tears on his shoulder and becoming a monsoon too big to live but too small to make a difference. i said stay he said no i said i'll change he said he didn't think i could i said i was sorry and he said there was no reason to apologize for the truth. but how can i not apologize when i have made you a trophy story to tell my friends when i am drunk and moody because you are no longer by my side. how can the words i'm sorry not be carved into the cave of my mouth, tattooed across my bottom lip with jet black ink when i still call you, just to prove to myself that i am good enough for someone at least how can i not be unyieldingly grateful when you put me back together after i was a broken glass vase and planted flowers in the deepest embers of my imagination. i am sorry. i am sorry that i am too big of a mess to acknowledge that i need help. i am sorry that i am so scared of failure i hide behind big t shirts and razor sharp knives. i am sorry that i lie through my teeth like a magician and get angry when you don't tell me the truth, as if i have a right to deserve it. but most of all, i am sorry that you cannot help but grow flowers in a place where only weeds grow. my body is an abandoned graveyard too beaten down to function and you tried to make it a home and for that, for that most of all i am truly sorry, from the deepest trench at the smallest hole in my skeleton. (h.l.)
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