#typing
My stomach churns
And my fingers ache
My brain screams
My heart shakes
I am deeply sick
In anxious anticipation
Of all the worlds I will write
May 14, 2025
May 14, 2025 at 3:50 AM UTC
If I wrote all my thoughts
On tiny scraps of paper,
Or tapped onto a blinding white screen-
Could I call it poetry?
Would people listen to me then?
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 4:55 AM UTC
the sound of typing
is soft as human always
even in anger
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 11:17 PM UTC
"Are you still there? Are you still listening?"
----------------
"its not like i've typed out our conversations many times before.
the things we said in days previous, couldn't live too long inside of me
so my fingers got used to pressing against the easily bruised keys of the phone screen until every tap kept telling
me
to run,
lightly and with love.
its seeing the
criss/crossed markings like nautical charts. laying out the gorges and gaps ahead for us, why couldn't there be another way
....
i thought to set sail with your spirit
clutched tightly to my chest.
---------------
"i don't think so."
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 8:23 PM UTC
for some reason
life chose now to make me feel like
i'm collapsing into myself
and i'm sitting here
at our kitchen table
tears filling my eyes
the text blurs together
im losing myself again
only this time it's worse than before
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
my laptop when i type
clicks
and even when im not quite sure what it is im typing
it still onward
click click clicks
onward as if something important
dancing sporadically over keys
in that heavy
C L I C K CLICK C L I C K
when i look up i see jumbled letters meaningless little black doodles sprawled across
lifeless conglomerations of things i know and (dont)
cl
just wanted to hear the sound
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
They can separate themselves from their demons
I can’t
The demons I carry around have been my best friends for so long,
I can’t tell the difference from them,
And me
They know when a thought is being placed there from something non-human
I don’t
They talk so much it pours out my mouth
The demons say they love me,
So Me, being desperate for love
Accept them
Then I follow their rules
- eat little- sleep none- cry always- tears never
And so many more
I’m no longer self-regulated because I'm no longer myself
They swallowed me
Since I can’t tell the difference between us, I willingly gave myself up
Traded myself
For a monster
That only brings others down, or drags me down, to lift others higher
They have become me
They are me
There Isn't a distinction anymore
There isn’t a red font to tell me what ideas to avoid
Because I don’t avoid any ideas at all
Nothing is off-limits, they tell me if I see a thought,
Take it
No matter who it hurts, especially if it hurts me, if you think it, you can do it!
They tell me
You only live once
So they make it hell, but only to prepare me for what’s to come,
They’ve convinced me they only have my best interest in mind, I let them make walls
To protect me
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
"You keep typing and stopping
All the time"
There is a reason
I want to talk
All the time
I want to say
How I'm feeling
How you make me feel
All the time
But I can't
Because that's weird
So I just keep typing
And stopping
All the time
Writing out words
I'll never send.
Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 2:00 PM UTC
Scribble,
Scribble.
The etchings,
of a dreamer.
Who's quill he,
quibbles with.
Grasping at an idea,
that he hydrates
with ink.
In wrathful vengeance,
he abuses parchment,
with a sharpened wood spear.
Drinking his creation,
tweaking the taste,
that's almost bitter.
Slash, ****
cross out.
He is vexed,
about the ending…
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 11:32 AM UTC
**** me sidewase-- sidewise apparently,
i can't get a word in between these red dots and
Red snakes biting at my letters's ankles
At least when I'm pen ning I have the option to ignore that im an *******
You **** gobbling weak kneed slack jawed fool
Alright Alright let's take it easy I'm simply trying to help
No one would ever doubt your genius
But your spelling can certainly take a little
Critazisms?
Is that how you
Spelt?
Dont patronize me **** it
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 8:38 PM UTC
You’d think that after
All this time I’ve spent typing,
That I could spell “the”.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 5:35 PM UTC
Click Click clickety-click
A rolling laughter in waves,
Increases like a storm, then comes spinning down
In little bouts, Actually
My to do list stretches quite long as I enjoy frequently reminding myself
Feeling busy
Feeling like I'm useful
I have things
to do
But,
For some reason
Maybe none,
I don't
Open my tab
and do them
Click Click clickety-click
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 12:44 PM UTC
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a drive to speak for the unspeakable,
or an urge to spill words like blood from a wound?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a trigger for a wreck that is to come,
or a spark of idea from a wicked mind I can't own?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
I can't scratch it like a card, gambling for a prize,
nor can I treat it with alcohol, poured on rashes or drank in a rush.
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
it clouds my visionless eyes, naked or on lenses
it agitates my trembling hands, I can't smunpew.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
sometimes when
no one checks
the group chat
for awhile and
there’s no one
else on-
it feels like you’re
just talking in an
empty theatre- waiting.
waiting for anything.
a “read” notification,
a typing bubble-
a sign that you’re
not alone-
anything...
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
you know
you're a writer
when the typing
inside your head
never ceases
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
the clicking of the keys
spells out
the beat of the heart
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
I don't want to be 19.
That's how old you were,
When we met.
I understand,
Your mind wasn't that,
Of an adult's.
Currently,
Neither is mine,
But your body was,
And I was 15.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:36 AM UTC
Like an old fashion writer.
Typing letters.
To things.
In hope they react.
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
These letters
placed onto this keyboard
are able to make art so beautiful
and novels so imaginative!
And this metal piece with keys on top,
can also make
h
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 12:13 AM UTC
I wrote it that way on porpoise
it was meant as a surfries
Words and lemons on the surface
I hope my menning doesn't, die
I type as beast I can
digits, frying over keeys
after all, I'm jest a man
standing, whilst, I ***
****** to be a textual failure
in a sexting, number lottery
alas, I'll have no saviour
for my fat fingered, poetry
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
I miss you
backspace
I still think about you
backspace
I'm sorry
backspace
I love you
backspace
backspace
backspace
hi
enter
-eleven
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
Have I ever told you that I love the sound of you typing?
The way your fingers move fast,
The way they hit a key at an exact moment,
The way they sound like the undertow of your life story of a symphony,
The click-clicks the sound of rain hitting my window on nights i miss you.
Every finger has a story.
Every key born to tell it.
Watching the way your eyes move along with the screen, you never had to look down.
Watching the way your hair would start to fall like a delicate fabric made of silk.
Watching the way you bite your lip because the good part is coming and it’s the big one.
You are a dictionary.
An arsenal of machine gun words
A pile of freshly pressed paper
An array of typewriter fonts
A piece of paper of the words you don’t know.
You are an endless cycle of words i would read correctly.
You are the thuds of thunder that i’m not scared of.
You are the taps of lyrics and poems.
You are an everlasting arrangement of clicks,
And I, I could listen for hours.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
drop your pen and drink your inks
stop your words from polluting
the clean slate minds of the youth
let them memorize the ancient rules
This world can't read what you're writing
Arrange a funeral and bury your thinking
Make it quick and be silent
Don't let them know that you're different
You can write? Good for you.
Now go and hide, or else they'll come here too.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
How dare you write
against the tides
about your views
about the lies
about the news
and prostitutes
and ****** abuse?
This world is cruel,
don't overthrow
the rule of men
who can only write
tap-tap about women rights,
tap-tap and the social issues,
tap-tap and the silent taboos,
tap-tap and the rich and the poor,
tap-tap and about the schools
which are producing
brain-washed fools.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Don't you know? They heard you too
Run for your life, they're chasing you
To erase your words
and silence your voice
To suffocate you
In your own mind
tap-tap, tap-tap
You're still standing here, asking me why?
Well, you're a threat
to what they possess
the power above all
the power to play god
to decide how we'll live
and where and why
and decide how we are going die.
You're still too young, you haven't seen
How they hide behind the walls
of their own fragile masculinity
and show their strength to scare you away
Ironic how it reflects their own image.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Now here they are, calling you names
with ***** meanings that they have made
They're pulling you down,
dragging you around,
making sure you'll never make a sound.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap,tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I know
I know
Oh, I know
How hard it is
to suffer all this
a punishment
of their own ****** sins
It makes me wonder
if they even will
punish the angels
on the last day
for writing
down
their *****
*****
mistakes.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 6:44 AM UTC