#unreality
i’m sick and tired of the unreality
of this chatter about color, time, and fear!
as long as we speak of nothing but ecstasy!
i did not believe what was said about me!
i did not destroy the truth
nor did i love the sound time made as it passed through the hourglass!
23h ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 8:38 PM UTC
Would you offer your throat till the white roses run red
Would you tilt your neck till it mimics the gallows bite
Would you arch your back while my fingers grip you like the rack
Shoulders of a beast set to prowl
Distance met by a jump of static
Graze along sanguine thrum
Intoxicant for syringe canine
Moment to savor before the plunge
Pour in my mouth
Lap at the slice
Nails coffin, sign your song to my back
Only the moon plays observer
Voiceless the scream
Mirror the clouding heavens light
Cherish the life that flows from you
Glee it fills in me
Edge to the end, the final drip
From my arms, to the ground do you slip
Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 4:20 PM UTC
Pelo marrón como la tierra, ojos verdes como el pasto, labios rosas como las flores del jardín. Un corazón del tamaño del universo; para hablarte de esto, no me basta un solo verso. Me gustas, solo pienso en eso. A veces intento convencerme de que no será posible por tu irrealidad. Pero te amo, esa es mi verdad.
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 11:12 AM UTC
How many times can I write a "break up" poem?
Screaming into my empty pages,
"This is it,
I'm finally
DONE. "
I still don't leave, though,
Of course I don't.
Is this what its like to be crazy?
You're the only place I know.
Am I insane?
Whos to say?
If you ask me, I wasnt always this way.
I'm almost sure of it.
But if I'm insane, how would I even tell?
For all I know,
I could be in an asylum right now, rocking back and forth in a corner,
just talking to myself.
How would I even know?
Could I even guess?
The terrifying part is,
I wouldn't.
Crazy people never realize they are crazy,
Do they?
So maybe none of this is real. ...
...Maybe HE'S not real...
Maybe we never fell in love,
never had our child,
never planned our future together.
But that was all before the abuse.
...The abuse.....
Was that even real?
I'm not sure anymore...
Maybe it wasnt.
Maybe, we never even met.
Well if thats the case, and we never met,
I guess thats good.
Because never meeting me, is what you told me you wished for,
right?
...Or...
I don't know.
Did you?
Jun 6, 2024
Jun 6, 2024 at 7:16 AM UTC
Do you ever imagine
you've lived this day
long ago
only under the beveled glass of a dream,
and now,
you're just going through
the motions using muscle memory?
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 12:15 PM UTC
Soft skin, marred,
jagged cheekbones
cutting into blank white;
suffocating plastic sweats
against the mouth of the thing.
A moth-swarm of faces,
of sickly hospital white
plastic; mouths gasping
for air and everyone drinking spirits
like the world is about to end.
The façade of a masquerade,
pearl whites with jagged oysters
creaking underneath, all botox
and sloppily revisited youth;
death is passed as a disease.
One within, too prideful
for a mask, yet pale faced
enough to spend the night
in the quagmire and relive
the quicksand underfoot forever.
Hard, wrinkled women
ruining themselves,
asphyxiating slowly in the crushing
pressure of plastic on sweat on skin
right down to the bone.
Still, the white-wind, bare, ghost
lingers in the after-party,
picking up the discarded masks
with smooth, youthful fingers;
resignedly exhaling down into sinking earth.
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 7:33 AM UTC
rainbow in the details
when the lense focuses
is it the tint of my glasses
or the bend in the sign
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
the world is rendering
in these rabbit eyes
a basilisk turns to stone
in their reflection
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:11 AM UTC
hollow me out like a jellyfish
remove my spine-heart-brain
so serine in these
celestial waters
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:11 AM UTC
Untethered,
that’s the best way to describe it.
That feeling of floating,
and sinking too.
The world seeming unreal,
like the colors are wrong.
Simulated reality,
where the nights are too long.
Going through the motions,
and not caring at all.
An outsider,
who’s on the outside, of outside.
Catching yourself,
staring off into space,
wondering if someone noticed,
realizing no one’s there to see.
Those days,
you forget to remember,
are somehow worse,
than the days you remember to forget.
That horrifying realization,
when even your brain doesn’t care.
When it simply says “whatever”,
like you’re giving up on you.
These days don’t last,
they never do,
but they are terrifying,
when it’s only you.
You don’t want anyone to worry,
don’t want them to see,
the pain, the fear, the nothing,
that you sometimes become.
If someone could just take that rope,
and tie it down tight.
Bring the colors back,
and chase away the night.
Someone to ask,
if you’re really ok.
Someone you could trust,
to say “no, not today”.
Someone you could look at,
and simply let go and break.
Someone who wanted to give,
instead of just take.
Someone who knew,
and wouldn’t tell you to stand,
but would simply lay with you,
and tether you back to land.
So, “no, not today”,
but maybe tomorrow.
Today I am floating,
and there’s only the sorrow.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
when I think of myself I’m never here
I think about who I am
and I think of
closed doors/white walls/music in my head
/patterns beaten into carpet
and I think of
sitting on the bus/living behind my eyes
/blank faces staring out of windows
and I think of
bright worlds/mundane things with people who don’t exist
/wielding a dagger of words/of misunderstandings
and tragedies/surviving and growing stronger
/of smiling in the face of peril
and I think of
betrayal/murder /being missed/growing wings
/becoming goddess/becoming wind/being loved
and feared in equal amounts/of people who don’t exist
still being there
and I blink
-it’s the same small white room
with a window that changes seasons by the hour
I think I don’t know who I am
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
eye of storm
feels good
inanely safe
cloak of unreality
supplanting sense
as trap shuts
butterfly hovers
gently
in silken web
rests stupidly
charmed
while harm beckons
illusions numb
cerebral
space
battle weary
instincts spent
on long haul
gusts of
warning winds
ignored
as incongruent
aberrations
unworthy of note
but sword will drop
mayhem eclipse
former state
past suspension
truncated
exposed
as raw reality
severs dreams
barnacled
to beguiling
specious
notion
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
I am floating, drowning
In a *** dream
Words float, about me
Out of reach, as I am out of touch
Here and there, a wanderer
But I do not call to them
I see them, they try
To mend nets, to close the holes
Retain some of the cosmos
That slip through
I hear their low, anguished moans
Moving through, a dream of dreaming
Clocks, melting into a pool of abstract
As time itself ceases to believe
I wake, clocks are solid
The universe is not running
Reality reigns again
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 9:36 AM UTC
like smoke but no cigarette
only the buzz of the radiator fills my mind
a fever dream the color of raw flesh
under parts peeled from cuticles
a haze of memories
soaked in sludgy glue and paper machéd together, a new skull cap
I don't know you -- or I do?
many days I've spent with you but
your eyes are now parts of the ocean
I have not seen
the voice rattles in my chest but
it is not mine -- or is it?
I never know these days
messages I don't remember sending
nothing is real
smiles I don't remember receiving
nothing is real
everything is fine
I'm not going crazy but if I was
I wouldn't remember.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
My stomach hurts rhythmically, my heart beats when it wants
I never sleep when I want to and I choose the stressful nights to try
My blood flows backwards,
I choke on my words, and my food, and your name, and the truth
I’m an inside out backwards ******* fool; I see both wheels going left when I’m not supposed to
I see your hate when I should see your love
I am my own hero and nemesis in a single comic strip
I trip on my feet, and swallow my tongue, I bite my finger until it goes numb
My ears don’t ring, they hiss
I’m not a lemon, I’m poison
I’m a mislabeled bottle of hazardous chemicals
I am something that should’ve been recalled
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
How can a hand I haven't held in so long feel more real than my own?
How can the flashing of blurry images made up of fears and desires draw out more emotion than entire days passed?
How can a voice you should never hear speak new words again contradict all logic?
You can’t call them dreams; you can’t call them nightmares.
They are a newly evolved breed of unreality.
Silhouettes, and gentle lines, represent an entire human.
An entire life conveyed in simple, thoughtless strokes.
How can they control me that much?
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
I throw myself down the stairs
in my mind.
I curl my toes over the top stair,
Imperceptible sways toward
the ragged drop
I close my eyes and tuck,
knees to heart,
hands to elbows
to face to
feet
to
toes
to
Tumbling, and
screaming and
bruising for days.
I throw myself down the stairs
in my mind.
Outside, I sleep
a little deeper
and stairs are for
reaching the kitchen,
If I threw myself down
them, I would
disappoint
everyone.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
Tears of sorrow
Is the frosted window
To our darkest desires
And shout the lies
Depression is like a ghost in the snow
It all seems unreal
You have no idea what you're up against
Yet we've seen what they look like
The clock can keep ticking
And whisper the time
We are too ignorant to hear
And too scared to listen
The sun shines on you
And screams your imperfections
Forget about the people who hate you
A smile is the perfect revenge
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC