#singular
can’t know enough to judge
can’t care enough to tear down
just living my life
without or without you around
can’t compare you to them
can’t over share about my dread
just laying my feelings out
don’t want to sink
just have to swim
there’s nothing keeping me afloat
i paint in crimson and tears
i understand healing isn’t linear
i am outgrowing adolescent fears
i understand growth isn’t singular
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 10:19 AM UTC
In a tectonic motion
Mountains have formed
Ridges deepened
In the blink of an eye
In the breadth of a gasp
I recognize myself
Asking why they assume
That we find who we are
Within the singular grasp
Of a mere single soul
For I feed a thousand of them
And they feed themselves alone
Your so-called meditation
Must be taken elsewhere
You must see that it was
Never yours to begin
Watch the rearview mirror
As it enquires the wisdom
I am but a multiple
Left merrily unresolved
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 11:02 AM UTC
I don't know your story, I've never read
a paragraph of you life..
I'll not lie I don't know when
your life became a doodle circling around
despair.
But I've been through things you've never
wrote about.
But I'm still here.
Don't think that a page will never turn,
that a paragraph became a sentence
then a singular word
END....
I cant hold you I've never even met you.
But if I just listen to your voice
its cutting me inside.
but I'm here for you, a voice shining
in the dark places where your own voice
had deafened you.
We can talk for as long as you want.
please insert coins in..
this call will end in
6.
5.
4.
3.2.1.....
Then your gone..
But I redial and I hear the tears circle the
phone cord, tightly grasping around your
vocal cords.
I'm here for you, ill stay till the silence isn't so profound
when your voice inside isn't so loud.
Just sleep on it after weve talked.
No your not alone, after I'm gone
talk to a friend, realise that they'll
be a brick in the wall to hold you up,
not to crumble.
Remember that I'm hear, now lets just talk.
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
One life, one wife,
One love, One Love.
Why one, Why one,
Why one, Why One?
My Frustration is only matched
By my desire to be the One.
I am a contradiction to be watched
a liar who wants to run.
from:
commitme
nt.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
Every face is a story
Etched into the air we breathe /
And these journeys
Lead us to paper lives of survival’s manifest,
Where solid colours refuse to exist
- And black and white enmesh
To cloud the streams of speech
We use to guide us to
The non-existent chapter
Of complete understanding /
Leaving fingerprints
That overlap over others
Until an artwork is forced
/out/ of our ghostly presence,
Always to be remembered
By all we’ve touched -
Long after memory has lost itself...
In the streets of brains
Trying their best to rest after they have successfully
/etched/ themselves into the fabric
Of spinning time and a gravitational pull
-Irresistible-
Breathing out one last patch
To add to humanity’s short stretch,
To feel the very essence
Of reality within them
Before returning to the beginning /
Every face is a story
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
We were on an occupation of
relative discerning,
crossing every bridge of
relative conviction.
But the rights of a singular formation,
doesn't hold the morality of
a solitary standing.
The glass was half full on our side,
never spilling.
But on that side every motion,
sided with the tears
that eroded the path before us.
Could our convulsions be stained.
But we were stead fast,
walking forth.
Here comes our shame,
here is the shame of our noose
of ignorance.
That a half empty cup of emptiness
had more meaning than ours
half filled.
But we walked further than out tether.
And a cup half full, pulled a bridge down
with a fortitude of conviction.
"*Just because a cup seems mostly full,
the tears of a mostly half empty vessel
can hold more weight and pull any bridge
of wrongness down in simple volume*"
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Happiness was always plural in my mind,
there had to be a he, a she or they,
but as time passed,
I grew to learn that
happiness is a singular ' I '.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
We must envision
the what's
not the £$ signs...
we have to pull
all humanity
into the link of every chain..
We must look the negative
haves
and know everyone is worth
more than the have not's.
We aren't worth more
than any other.
Each of us has our worth
in a world of each other
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 1:55 PM UTC
One singular sensation, my dears,
Can change your life in a flash, cheers,
Your luck can change one day,
May good fortune come our way.......
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
It was a segment of me joined but never really there.
Having travelled on every footstep but it kept me
anchored below. But all things must at a time
become singular, it felt this time was now.
Time had past and this anchor had become
fainter, I felt weaker with its dispersal from
self. But it wanted independence from a form
feeling it was a servant not a part of the whole.
Awaking in agony as if I had been lacerated
to the core of myself, then I stood up and my
companion had divided its substance from me.
But all was not as it should be for errors now seen.
Constitution had been unravelled, without this
coupling light had refracted its existence. And
where form was once, now it was devolving into
its basic form that of obscurity dispersing away.
Silent screams echoed through, as shade made a
depletion of actions. Never getting close to its
needed attachment. Instead greeting extinction of
form as they became wisps fading into oblivion.
Those that coalesced and became as singular became
as one. Knew the needing of a symbiotic joining.
They were separated by consciousness but lived
now as one. Inanimate and animate united in life.
"Just because its beneath you never feel your higher,
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
Keen little neons
playfully jump around, colliding with her mind
and she sits there, legs crossed, her ***** aroused,
but it gets doused as the Wall Street pinstripe type walks by
she utters a sigh, looks at the sky, the ending's nigh, and it's night.
Skyline looks pretty
beams and lighted apartment block kitchens and real pop-up ads,
them keen little neons,
her eyes flicker like those hanging lights in horror films,
perpetuate fear, the skeletons are in the clear.
I told you, you schmuck, the end is near.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:28 AM UTC