"bloodstreams" poems
GMO foods punch holes in cells
permeate the gut, creating gaps in guts
Leading to food floating in bloodstreams, rivers of pain
Food allergies, ulcers, IBS .... these are the milder troubles
I won't speak of IBD, Cancer and Crohns disease
Babies born now allergic to foods, children allergic more than ever
They said, though the BT injected crops killed bugs, bursting their bellies
that they were still safe for humans....They were wrong!
Now these GMO crops are causing a myriad of gastro problems in people!
Food crops are now Roundup ready in the
Killing Fields.
Videos to watch:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS72J9bDvPM&feature;=relmfu
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6D3TUk-XX1o&feature;=relmfu
TOP FOODS TO AVOID (unless labeled organic)
Corn
Soy
Potatoes
Canola, Cottonseed Oils
Sugar, fructose, corn syrup
Dairy - except organic
Tomatoes - except organic
Papaya/Hawaiian
Helpful links:
www.naturalnews.com/035734_GMOs_foods_dangers.html
http://truefoodnow.org/
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
“where time is the fly and age the fisher of men”
<>
*”until I fell forward
into fall where time is
the fly and age the fisher
of men, then when winter
begins all will be forgotten,
where time is the fly and
age the fisher of men”*
excerpt from “The Fall” by Rick Richardson
<>
that words from a different ionic state, jump as embodied ions from screen to the throat, evicting a guttural current of exclamation, you believe even with the half-heartedly palpitations from remainder of my damaged pumping heart, that these words were always intended, just for me…
boy and old man coexist, the pottage of memories stirred,
and the time is fly, and I drown in the miracle of greenest grass of
Yankee Stadium at age eight,
oasis, heaven, a child reborn in a sea of Bronx concrete,
and the swallowing up of my boyhood is forever marked henceforth, the hook has caught me, and I am of the age
once and forever
not a fisherman, but a fisher of men’s souls,
mine own is my best bait,
hooked line and sinker, and
wisdom and words
elude and delude always,
like summer is perpetual and aging a construct,
time does not fly, but slowly laps and waves
eroding our myths and ourselves upon a continuum with
no ends
~postscript~
<>
*yet I believe,
in miracles of
fish and loaves,
and that our individual continuums
will exist beyond the artifice of constraints
of
mortal time and that poems are
the forever chemicals within
our
bloodstreams,
even when our blood no longer spills*
yet I believe!
Sep 6, 2023
Sep 6, 2023 at 7:57 AM UTC
We had recovering drug addicts come in
Talking to us with their sunken
Ashy eyes
And sweaty palms
You could tell they were nervous by the
Way they carried themselves
Cinder blocks and
Broken piano parts
And their pasts
All clinging to them,
For life support
They talked about how easy
It was to let gravity eat you alive
As you are falling into a black pit
You can’t stop the falling
Their wings were bound to
Pseudo lovers who
Gave them bruised arms
And blue fingers.
If you are lucky enough to
Escape the clenched hands of
Addiction,
The rest of your life will
Be a walking tightrope act
Trapeze dancers
One slip and you are falling
Even faster
Harder than before.
And your family, friends,
Everyone you have ever known is
In the audience watching you
Fall into your premature grave
And there is nothing they can do
But tell you to fly
But you cant
Because you just love your
Mistress too much
To ever let her go.
And they warned us about
How hard it might be to say no
To not let the circus come into
Town, but if you do
Only you can pack up the
Lions, clowns,
Colorful balloons.
Someone asked them if they
Believe drugs should be legalized
And he responded with
If I walk into a gas station
And see drugs for sale I will
Not be able to hold myself
Upright.
But I also do not want a government
Establishment to tell me what I can
And cannot ingest into my body,
So I don’t know.
Newton’s First Law of Motion
States that something will keep moving
Unless some force acts upon it.
And once you start drugs
Or gambling
Or skipping meals
it will progressively
Worsen in time.
Festering in bloodstreams
Until you decide to stop it.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
The blood boils inside my veins, heating every road in my bloodstreams corrupting my nervous system until there's an earthquake.
How can I save myself when rescuing myself means dying?
Surviving
that's all we try to do.
But when living is so hard and dying is so easy it makes me wonder,
why are we still breathing when a knife, a safety pin, a pencil sharpener blade can take it all away?
It seems we're addicted to pain.
Whether in the form of trying to escape or trying to get by
and I can't figure out which is worse.
-k.d.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
in the landscape of you
I am a wandering soul
with but my words
for protection
as I make you my goal
in the expanse of your vista,
I wear the cloak of our depth
your heartbeats in mine
as we breathe
the same breath
I feel your rugged peaks,
your valleys that sink
your core's wildflower essence
that stains me with ink
I bathe in its fragrance,
a tattooed poet's imprint
in the primal spheres in my being
enveloping my core
all the clearer
for seeing
and when your rough
tempest storms
are afar, yet in view
I dive straight to
their center
into the magnet of you
for
I will water your deserts
infuse fresh creeks
in your dry
I will run through your forests
as I call to your wild
as I straddle your cliffs,
festoon your tundra
with blooms
steam will rise from
your earthcore
and fill up my womb
Through the dew on our lashes
through my lava that flows,
the stars in your eyes
make my universe glow
these geographic measures
I take
as you let me inside
our bloodstreams merging
as we get lost in the tides
electric pulsed woodlands
that spread iced wildfires
slaking the loops
of floodgates' desire
and I will hold you together
if you fall, torn apart
bonded forever
in this map of our
hearts
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
I didn’t mind the incongruence of our hearts
as we melted together like sticky-sweet ice cream
on a nostalgic summer day, and I wore your
fingerprints on my collarbone like a proud
working man’s necktie as our molecules collided
between our bodies in a miniature mosaic we
couldn’t see – but we could feel
Our bloodstreams were helium and our
organs were neatly-knotted balloon animals
and trumpets pounded behind our eardrums
as we tried to stay afloat in our makeshift raft
in the turbulence of Maybes and What Ifs
but you choked on reality as I tried to
breathe you a sonnet
And the piano burdened our lungs as
I tried to free the confusion from your eyes
but they hid in your lashes and fluttered
against the tip of my nose and invited a
cathartic sneeze, and I felt like a jagged
paper cut-out but you were smooth lines
and symmetry
I don’t know when the yelling started or
when it ceased but the red stains on my face
were the only recollection I needed and
I packed my things in an origami suitcase
and treaded down the spiral stairs and exited
from the top story on wilted-flower wings
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
Woke up early like I always do, no matter what I'm going through I sit and contemplate my present situation, like is this life worth living or am I wasting it, I got plans for myself but with what I know, I know there's a possibility of removing it from the shelf of possibilities, sometimes I can't control myself, so I get ****** off let some shots off and restock, my life is just a ramble that needs to be reshocked like defibrillators to your live stock, cause global warming turned to climate change and they make it seem it's not an issue by keeping your mind invisibly encaged and your nose in the tissue, I've been changing, so when it comes to blaming there's no one to blame but the cats who put our work to shame, **** the industry it's why I live in infamy like the US has for practically an entire century, continuing forensically but fail to catch their own trace of criminology, instead blaming you for your ideology passed down from generations along with theology, some things are more believable like the inconceivable evil that's injected inside the bloodstreams of my people, makin them turn from people to machines, **** that I'd rather be trapped in Saturn's rings but sometimes it's hard to stop some things
- This world has been ruled, dominated, and conquered for thousands of years.. I think it's about time to let that **** lay to rest -
Man I've been living for quite some time, and all I've seen is the world go from a bright shine to a darkened shrine, but I guess that's what will happen when you're born into a world that's already fastened their seatbelts for a global blastin, end the nukes end the fed end the ************* who will leave us for dead while they happily sit in bed waiting for their master Satan to come in faster, the worlds a disaster but it can be fixed if everyone pitches in to dethrone their "masters", mathematical factors plotting out disasters cause they're done on purpose like previous stories remastered, some will ridicule me but it won't matter when they realize the truth that's been hidden educationally generationally, you're serviceably useful to the machine aka the system, but the system needs you, you don't need to listen
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
My name is stolen like a Spaniard
Inquisition,
My heritage barely a patch of fog,
What is the truth of myself unwritten?
" Your name is....You shall be called"
My father once said,
But I sign this name at the end of no poem,
Are you sure this is my name?
Have you navigated the flows
Of lava in my bloodstreams,
My geographical mind that beckons
A deep bitter valley,
Dark beautiful mountains that have
Reclaimed by nature what my people
Claimed her?
Can you see my subterranean pyramids,
My great moist jungles,
Gutting out advanced mathematical models,
Bleeding precise positions of stars,
I can cry the Winter Solstice,
Oh my proud heart pounds
Through my chest with dreams of then,
When the Coyote was sacred and the
Nature of all things was balanced
Even in the darkest days.
Am I Gonzales from the old Spaniard name?
Does my brown skin and hairless
Arms not cry for the Aztec of my ancient
Fathers?
The root of my root,
The flesh of my flesh,
The veiny branches of a family tree
Where wild flowers grow in
The words of the Aztec bark,
Bleeding its sap through me,
Is this Spaniard to you?
(I know the difference)
Let me ask my blood:
Do you not see the fire in my eyes?
Don't you see the fire raining tears
Of embers onto paper,
Every word a burnt offering?
Maybe one does not know of my
Great grandfather in the valley
Of Mixcoatl, there he lived as the last
Nocturne, his great scar along his back,
The last of a warrior
Where he died among the stars of his fathers,
The scar from a knife, a knife that
Stole his true name!
Has Olin and Ehecatl taken it
With a breath of wind?
I will take the Sun Stone with you Octavio!
Take me home.....
And I can see it!
The noble people forgotten
As time forgets all,
My voice of the Warrior grateful
And speaking like a shiny tip of
Spear piercing the night wolf!
I am no longer a riddle in the water,
But a pure flow of immenseness,
A profound respected beast,
I feel the purity of ancient things,
I dissolve into memory's ink,
My combatant blood boils,
The land flames of my fire,
The people of the Sun!
My ancestral blood with calloused feet,
My ancient jungles,
Tamers of beasts,
Oh the Aztec Dream,
Yes, I am what my blood says I am,
What's in a name?
The identity misidentified.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
quick to jump
quick to feel
it's all split-second
decisions on ****** positions
at 3 am.
practicing submission in the
mirror of an alleyway.
broken.
shattered premonitions.
c r a v e m e
do you. do any of you.
feel me. in your bloodstreams.?
knocking the wind out of your precious and
dying lungs.
pumping your hearts.
crave me? do you?
deliciously uninterested.
shards in my throat.
interesting personality attraction.
follow me now.
to do lists. have done lists.
to get to when i'm sad and bored lists.
check check check
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Last Friday night
across a summer’s night
the moonlit afire of cosmic presence
endured a promise of good peace.
As I entered my home, 9.13PM
I received a text from my dad
informing me that he’s been
involved in a car accident.
My flesh was worn out
from the day’s activities,
and melancholy added pressure
to my bloodstreams due to
my dad’s unfortunate event.
I could feel uncertainty
filling my unconscious mind,
drowning in sadness ‘cause
for the past six years
its been a normality for him;
facing insurance policies, getting medical treatment, a few calls
from family and friends ...
and he’s okay.
I threw a heavy stone
in my heart
and it broke me,
tears kissed my face
and I cleansed my soul with them.
Few minutes later he texted:
“in 20 min. time I’ll be home,”
and I wondered if this will
happen for the sixth time,
if he’ll survive another tragedy.
But whispers of hope said,
“you’re blessed, he’s blessed. be grateful. all is well.”
And I was okay.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
On behalf all of us who make bad decisions,
and worse excuses for them
I’d like to say that I’m sorry
I heard about how hard you worked on that science fair project
and how the teacher didn’t believe you
Because a week ago, someone like me used the same excuse
to get out of turning an assignment in on time.
And I’d like to say I’m sorry, for all the exams you studied for days to get a C on
and all the ones we aced without trying.
I promise, it wasn’t our fault, we’re just lucky guessers
I guess we could be little Irish
Like four leaf clovers are running though our bloodstreams.
On behalf of all of us who cried wolf,
because we fell asleep
and lost track of a few sheep.
I’d like to say that I’m sorry
that the boss didn’t accept the puncture wounds as proof
because we went too far one too many times for anyone to be trusted anymore.
For always taking the easy way out.
For every little white lie we told, that snowballed into an avalanche
and took you with it as it raced downhill.
On behalf of all of us whose dog did not, in fact, eat our homework
to you, the kid with a genuine excuse.
I would have liked to say I’m sorry.
I even had this whole apology written out
-It was cool, and rather poetic, if you ask me-
But there was this freak accident this morning
involving traveling circus, a ******** and a ham sandwich
-Trust me, you don’t want to know the details-
Okay, you got me
I guess some old habits die hard.
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 5:18 AM UTC
my heart is fragile
my smile is broken
my soul is tortued
my eyes have turned blind
my fingers got burned cause of cupid
my wounds are open
my throat is dogged up
the pain is flowing
my insides are burning
(let’s just keep going)
my mind is fidgeted
my thoughts are caged
my bloodstreams are bursting
introspective is weakened
unanchored sailing takes place.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
Hello coastline
Hello winter
Hello solitary moonlit drive
I'll be enchanting blank pages with poetry
as you waste away city-side
Tragic and lamenting but fading as I moan
You are my empty ***** liter as I glide
I'm the dawn breaking through your curtains as you roam
Goodbye afternoons
Goodbye white lies
Good bye little lace ivory dress
I'll be slashing through the semblance of symmetry
as you ask the bartender for yet another splash
You'll be beautiful on the pavement and novels of mystery
as my overdrive desires and loneliness inevitably crash
Hello bloodstreams and ****** Marys
Goodbye falsified kindness and sorrow
Hello sparrows and destiny's bone marrow
Goodbye Hudson views and embraces on the ferry
Hello empty skylines and generalizations
Goodbye comforters and pillows side revelations
You were so crimson in your shining armor
You were so elegant as love's fine soldier
I was so isolated in the stone and glass of the tower
The lake sparkled like a diamond in our final hour
Goodbye romeo,
hello sad song's flow
goodbye april
hello unfaithful.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
A quasi fog hole is born
An urge to be somewhere
Anywhere but these islands of bloodstreams
Far maybe in Thailand
What awaits next is a scaber of thresholds
It's an unknown world if you fall and land here
Shimmering camels going about their own biz
Wearing demon suits with demon ties
Auxiliaries conversing in Bonomos
Common hats all practicing, choreographing all catacombs thundering novels that are occurring as they scream, pictures willowing one by one, second by second all occurring simultaneously
...and say again
Awaiting ...
Not occurring at all...
Never had occurred at all
Dec 14, 2011
Dec 14, 2011 at 1:37 AM UTC
I stand at the doorway to the heart.
The key my deep breath.
Once inside energies tickle
causing a smile to rise on face.
causing sensations warm to enter bloodstreams.
I stand, ready to take off in dance
with my fellow neighbor.
Ready to reconnect to sister, brothers, and animals.
Mother Natures wind blows caressing me.
Birds tickle ears to align with my own song.
And as I move out, I know I am blessed and a blessing.
I arrived home. I am home.
Star BG © 2017
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
Now you know that I’m just a borderline
I’ll kick you out when my bloodstreams flow
Even if a firm hand on mine could stem it,
I let you in only to tickle the sinew and marrow
But I love you, true, you’re my only glass case
Needing you to borrow all my pain,
I pinned your wings and made you taste
The bile of my noncommittal pendulum again, again.
Between the tumult of self hatred and desire’s embrace
That dark dysphoria you found in seeing me
Enflamed loss when I left the mire of us
Without a battle calm instilled at the seams
Allowing our hearts in the rolls of our sleeves
We are dangerous.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Her words are boa constrictors causing detrimental suffering and sometimes even death,
with her victims crying themselves to sleep every night, hyperventilating with every breath.
Her raining punches feeling like a thousand needles piercing their flesh time and time again,
her victims wonder why they get up each morning just to suffer the same pain.
Her poisonous taunts run through their bloodstreams and haunt their minds;
and lead some to scar their bodies and others to perish entirely leaving their family behind.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
One, two, three, four, come and get me!
You betcha, I will.
She stared at her greenish, blue veins jolting through her pale porcelain wrists-
like ancient twisted tree roots;
growing,
growing from her fingertips down to her toes.
Reaching towards the heavens
and stretching down towards hell.
Or perhaps her veins were a lighting bolt electrifying her skin;
striking her wrists,
pulsing through her upper arms.
Five, six, seven, eight
She was one with the blood.
Flowing through her bloodstreams,
the universe inside of her.
nine, ten, eleven, twelve...
Shards of glass, like millions of angels coming to save her.
She picked one up.
Held it to her skin.
She crawled into the bathtub.
Watched the water turn red.
Gotcha!
Come inside girls, it's time for lunch!
She finally understood
who she was again.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
the raw confusion of the nucleotide fusion,
the great concoction of recombinant DNA,
when we cross over our own boundaries
and subsume, integrate, reformulate our
very selves, with inhalation complete of
another human being; the danger’s inherent,
absorbing a foreign body totally is the creation of a new being entire, vulnerable
despite the new totality of the resources of
two hearts acquired for mergence
and the rush of two different bloodstreams
now circulating, stronger by far, and equally
vulnerable to diseases never prior considered,
these tissues patches, interwoven skins, two
fabrics, silk and wool, a smooth itchy, that
makes us stronger with yet unknowns of weaknesses, and then we encounter what
cannot easily be digested, comprehended,
for even new cells split apart, and the terrible
terror of dividing division that is the side effect of integration, new subdivisions never
ever forever foreseen cause volcanic tremors
and trusting your other half is awful,
until the fear subsides
*this is the why
I write of
only love poetry,
the study of this process
so poorly and powerfully
misunderstood
is the atom bomb
of the human psyche
in rivers dark we travel,
oars with cotton muffled,
for there are dangers on each bank,
and in the waters beneath
the salt and the fresh
excitingly & violently blending,
different weights
somethings fall to the bottom,
others rise to the top
*and when the process is nearly resolved
(for never ending,
by default defined,
for end is a conflict
constant
interrupted by truces fraught,
fragrant and vulnerable)
*this then
is living,
this physic of the
bio-il-logic process
called love,
and the endlessness
that it requires
the inconstancy
of the
constancy
of the
deepening well,
and the
redemption of
redefinition
of what is
well*
<>
2:10pm
nyc
10/21/24
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 2:11 PM UTC
Nineteen.
Clueless and unprepared, I am diving headfirst
Into a world for non-nineteen-year-olds,
A system so precise and so imprecise that I cannot win
A universe so unpredictable that I was better off eighteen.
But now it’s time to reach out to destiny,
Blow out twenty candles (one for good luck)
And live life like everyone is watching.
Ideas and goals have been ingrained into my mind
Whether I like them or not does not matter,
As they’ve made homes in my skin but don’t pay the rent
And I cannot kick them out because we are symbioses
******* the poisonous vitals from each other’s bloodstreams.
Suddenly, it isn’t so insane to think that my success
Is not successful enough and that my wedding gown
Could be my clothes on someone’s floor late at night
And the future fades into never, not as a beautiful ripple
But as a vicious surge, and I realize that
Once upon a time is once upon a dream and
My dreams are nightmares and I scream
Through the night and I’m modestly nineteen
So no one else is responsible to wake me up.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC
That first time we took a drink,
let the cool fecund tides rampage over our tongues,
down our throats and take up residence in the empty pits of our stomachs.
We rejoiced.
We danced.
We consumed every and all in our path, relentless,
like the silence that used to adorn our small corner of the world.
They purse cracked lips to whistle at the ******* of the women that walk past,
and clench fists as muscle bound males raise their hackles to ward them off.
We want to fight.
We want to beat the world into submission,
to restore that silence that we crave but have learned to despise.
Neon lights blind our eyes as we sway in tandem to the pulsing bass.
We are one,
We are animals.
Hurricanes tearing through our landscapes
Uncaring in the face of disaster we laugh manically,
Tilting our faces back as we peel off our skin,
Unzipping raincoats that don’t block out the sun.
Holding our arms together in a twin bed
Blocking out the ghosts of our past,
listening to the fish tank whir
remember the first time we drank,
leaning timber against the faded wall,
talking to mr. light even though he refused to answer,
our bodies melded under fairy lights,
I hold your lips on the tips of my fingers and
Your heart in the palm of my hands
And I cradle that small bird, breathing warm air
Onto its feathers to help it grow.
Tides pour through our bloodstreams,
Pounding through our systems in overdrive,
Weak hearts thrashing in their cages.
What are we made of?
Roots and veins and fragile paper skin
Waiting to be torn by the hands of unworthy suitors?
We am made of hot hard *** and the need for more.
Something else. We are animals.
The bars of our cages dissolve in the acid breath of our highs
We sing from the rays of the sun,
Belting out operatic tones of our lives as if someone
On the other side of the telephone is actually listening.
Instead we day drink
And night drink
And huddle in cloth cocoons waiting to transform into our saviors.
Remember that first night we drank,
Enraptured under magnetic ceilings,
Dancing together under the influence
Of a potentially better world.
Spinning star struck next to constellations
Waiting until the room stops swallowing us whole
So we can close our eyes until the morning,
Smile drunkenly high on love,
And maybe for once, we will sleep.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Reckon I'm Reckless
A wreck when I'm reckless
Tear open my chest
They'll call it love
But love feels like shards of glass
Pierced my heart and vocal chords
Now, I found the perfect place
Necks can bear a heavy necklace
*Headstrong
What's right, what's wrong
Call on the broken mirror
Can't see eye to eye
Overwhelmed by lies, tick the time*
And spit the words out, vainly cursed
Pathetic bloodstreams, veins rehearse
Trickle down the back of my mind
Slipping away and the moon is bright
Watched a face turned blue
Confused about "how are you"
And death peered through a window
Fresh bodies, new blood, young girl
*Headstrong
What's right what's wrong
Call on the broken mirror
Can't see eye to eye
Overwhelmed by lies, tick the time*
The lost, unspoken, ruined regrets
Twisted tongues, burnt cigarettes
Filled to the brim I threw myself into the ocean
Washed up on shore, unsure before
But the salt seeped into my wrists
Sea level rise, afloat miserable bliss
*Headstrong
What's right what's wrong
Call on the broken mirror
Can't see eye to eye
Overwhelmed by lies, tick the time*
Can't see eye to eye
Overwhelmed by lies, tick the time
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
My nightmares are your dreams, my happiness,
your screams
It's all to me, as it seems, bloodstreams and lightning beams.
A river of red rubies tears its way through my veins,
Did you really think,we'll ever be the same?
On and on we go,playing the same game,
tearing ourselves apart into shreds of pain
How could such beautiful eyes be so shattered,
When my torn up soul,never even mattered
When it was ripped to pieces on the ground, splattered
...and oh my you say, you feel flattered?
Cut me down, watch me bleed
Tell me now, was this everything you need?
Let me fall,take the lead
Drain me out,start to feed
Just to fill your loathing greed.
My misery wasn't enough,to fill a gaping hole?
Take my heart and bury it in your ********* soul.
Take it or leave it, it's burned inside out,
trust me dear..all you have is drought
So go ahead and break it and lose it all
Lose the last thing,
-your self control.
Don't be so harsh on my sanity,
you once used to worship my vanity.
Take a look inside, just don't touch me.
Cause a kiss from your lips would make me a banshee.
My screams will echo through the earth,
To let them know that my dead body has lost its worth
To let them see me rot in hell
To let them know what they can't compel
To curse them all under my spell
Those whispers on earth, they're just my rebirth.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
I woke up on the floor
From a party the night before
Feeling like a train wreck, looking like a mess
Trying to piece together last night’s events
But my memory’s **** & my fishnet tee is missing
So I roll up a cig, grab my coat and leave
I’m losing count on how many times I do this routine
Walking down the street
Going through the texts I sent when you were asleep
Telling you what drugs I’ve been on
What I genuinely think, I know I’m a nihilist
But I know I can also change in your company
It’s funny how the heart speaks
When ******* & MDMA is in the bloodstreams
Finally, I’m home
My mental state is melting like a Dali painting
So I crawl into bed for a good rest
Letting my body dissociate at the sight of 2PM
Some people say this is a waste of a day
But I didn’t think about that yesterday
Now I scream **** MY LIFE” loudly from the inside
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 4:17 PM UTC