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"brain" poems
I opened my eyes And looked up at the rain, And it dripped in my head And flowed into my brain, And all that I hear as I lie in my bed Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head. I step very softly, I walk very slow, I can't do a handstand-- I might overflow, So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-- I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.
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212.6k
Rain
let’s live suddenly without thinking under honest trees, a stream does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling -water pursues the angry dream of the shore. By midnight, a moon scratches the skin of the organised hills an edged nothing begins to prune let’s live like the light that kills and let’s as silence, because Whirl’s after all: (after me)love,and after you. I occasionally feel vague how vague idon’t know tenuous Now- spears and The Then-arrows making do our mouths something red,something tall
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106.8k
Let’s Live Suddenly Without Thinking
What would You do when you can't have someone you want? Would you lift a finger and whisk it like a wand wishing everything would fall in place the way you'd want it to in a tick of the clock , or, would you struggle with your brain between finding a solution and living inside your head, dreaming of perfection? ME I would get up, trek to a forest with my trusty machete and hack away at the thickest bushes I could find. I'd hack away, hack away, and ignore the sag from my arms, the stress on my back, the sweat pouring down my face like water off a cliff, the unsteady footing caused by wet mud and unsteady, unsure legs. I would keep hacking until I reach the end of my arduous quest, where I would come upon a clearing-- A clearing with an aisle made of rose petals that lead into the center, surrounded by white chairs and sunflowers. And Someone would be there, in a white dress and veil, waiting for me.
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
What to do when you can't have someone you want?
"My mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since, well, before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree."
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
Alex Turner’s love letter to Alexa Chung.
who knew that in about 4 years time, or maybe 10,000 years lost in 10,000 multi hued tears, id be on the same trip- dancing to the same shimmering inner grove as before- braiding fresh cut flowers- delicate genital-hands, unfolding in prayer into my subconscious mind or perhaps into my hair- saving colored prism fragments of knowledge or nonsense- digesting intoxicating incense smoke into the deep throated green streaked laughter chasms that are my lungs- spinning vinyl, spun mind unwinding, undulating through string music- contemplating the sunset's sweet immaculate form, reoccuring and balancing itself right outside my window- dressing in shells, bones, and beads; kaleidoscope fabric dripping from the ******* like mother Kali in a Fellini flick- peeping out at heads slinking down the ****** pavement streets- my hairy angelic form grooving intensely, spastic- body flung, strung out in hot patterns of mirrored arms and legs- brain brew bubbling; wicked, fantastic- limbs waving and grabbing at tangible tasty morsels, smelling strongly of indigo and patchouli- the East smiling on me and my intrepid journey to the ocean city- head thrown back in tranquil madness- pipe smoke curling like ancient hound howls from the corners of my lips- smiles spread like insanity, a wicked disease lost in the forgotten finger painted confounds of creamy ****** milk consciousness- basking in lamplight of the golden glistening Now.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
girl-child flashback
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Writing Suicide Notes In Gel Pen
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
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60
I hung myself today. Hanged? Whatever, point is I hanged myself today and I'm still hanging. I feel fine. Just bored. I keep hoping that someone will come home and cut me down but then I keep remembering that if i knew someone like that I wouldn't be up here. Bit ironic, right? Or is that not ironic? I read somewhere that, like, anything funny is, in some way, ironic. But I don't know if it's funny or not. I don't think my brain owns "funny," you know? I feel taller. I like that. I've never been away from my shadow for this long. It had always clung to my feet, parting momentarily for a quick dive into the swimming pool. But never for five hours. I like it. There's three feet of space between my two and the floor. I wanted something this morning. I may be stuck. But at least I'm three feet closer to it.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Hanged
Almost asleep when my phone ticked; 'A notification,' it says. Your name was there, you liked my photo. And my stomach drowned in butterflies— Scratch that—moths, surely they're moths. Stronger, buzzier, like your power To occupy and stay in my brain With that single heart emoji beside your name. Thinking that the double tap Is as if you love me just the same.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
Social Media
It's my best friend, and my nightmere- it's all that I love and everything I fear. It's my fulfillment, my bottomless sorrow- bringing dark thoughts of no tomorrow. It's my strength, my greatest plight- this evil addiction I try to fight. It's my oblivion, my heartbreaking pain- a toxic cloud that's killing my brain. It's my protection, my paranoid lies- the Devil himself in crystal disguise. It's my sanity, my endless strife- this methamphetamine destroying my life. It's my reality, my make-believe bliss- I just never imagined I would end up like this....
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Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 7:53 PM UTC
My Reality
You're watching, judging, and assuming You don't understand why I do what I do.  Why I obsess over little things. So stop trying to The world is my oyster But without the beautiful pearl Just a plain old shell, in a plain old world It's a shame you'll never know the brilliance All you're capable to understand is the madness. Insane, sane Heart, or brain Ferocious , tame Take two breaths and stop breathing all together. Turn your self to useless energy, forever. Welcome to mind of the mad. The queen of the asylum A dapper old castle in the brain of a girl. Who is tortured yet pampered in her own little world.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:00 AM UTC
Mind of the Mad
Thoughts in time and out of season The Hitchhiker stood by the side of the road And leveled his thumb In the calm calculus of reason. Hi. How you doin’? I just got back into town, L.A. I was out in the desert for awhile “Riders on the storm” Yeah. In the middle of it “Riders on the storm” Right… “Into this world we’re born” Hey, listen, man, I really got a problem “Into this world we’re thrown” When I was out on the desert, ya know “Like a dog without a bone An actor out on loan” I don’t know how to tell you “Riders on the storm” but, ah, I killed somebody “There’s a killer on the road” No… “His brain is squirming like a toad” It’s no big deal, ya know I don’t think anybody will find out about it, but… “take a long holiday” just, ah… “Let your children play” this guy gave me a ride, and ah… “If you give this man a ride” started giving me a lot of trouble “Sweet family will die” and I just couldn’t take it, ya know “Killer on the road” And I wasted him Yeah.
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50.3k
The Hitchhiker
a wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think i too have known autumn too long (and what have you to say, wind wind wind—did you love somebody and have you the petal of somewhere in your heart pinched from dumb summer? O crazy daddy of death dance cruelly for us and start the last leaf whirling in the final brain of air!)Let us as we have seen see doom’s integration………a wind has blown the rain away and the leaves and the sky and the trees stand: the trees stand. The trees, suddenly wait against the moon’s face.
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47k
A Wind Has Blown The Rain Away And Blown
I am a miserable **** Traffic jam thoughts. Aimless speech. Fever dreams, coffee with no cream, love with no pulse, alone at restaurants,             at grocery stores,             at parties. I have no identity. Shifting shape, black to blue, trading girls, red hair for Persian skin, parents and gods, politicians and lost purpose mobs, all asking me to be sacred,                             to be loving,                             to be trusting,                             to be active,                             to have no spine. All I want is a bit of my own time. A grenade of change, to end the coagulation of my brain, to leave me hungry for anything other than me, didn't somebody say I was promised something?                                             I was going somewhere?                                             I was unique? I am the same miserable **** As every other miserable **** The ******* that cut you off on Highway 62, The person that complained about too many pickles, on his precious fast food, The boy yelling at his baby sister for getting too much attention, The girl sexting your boyfriend, The boy sexing your girlfriend, The generation divorcing everyone it knows so it can fall in love with itself. All different, in exactly the same way. Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.                    Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.             trafficjamthoughts. traffic. Traffic Jam Thoughts. Thoughts. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Jam. thoughts. traffic. trafficjam. trafficjam. traffic jam thoughts.traffic. traffic jam. traffic, traffic, traffic. I am a miserable **** Traffic jam.
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Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 9:28 AM UTC
Density
I am a miserable **** Traffic jam thoughts. Aimless speech. Fever dreams, coffee with no cream, love with no pulse, alone at restaurants,             at grocery stores,             at parties. I have no identity. Shifting shape, black to blue, trading girls, red hair for Persian skin, parents and gods, politicians and lost purpose mobs, all asking me to be sacred,                             to be loving,                             to be trusting,                             to be active,                             to have no spine. All I want is a bit of my own time. A grenade of change, to end the coagulation of my brain, to leave me hungry for anything other than me, didn't somebody say I was promised something?                                             I was going somewhere?                                             I was unique? I am the same miserable **** As every other miserable **** The ******* that cut you off on Highway 62, The person that complained about too many pickles, on his precious fast food, The boy yelling at his baby sister for getting too much attention, The girl sexting your boyfriend, The boy sexing your girlfriend, The generation divorcing everyone it knows so it can fall in love with itself. All different, in exactly the same way. Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.                    Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.             trafficjamthoughts. traffic. Traffic Jam Thoughts. Thoughts. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Jam. thoughts. traffic. trafficjam. trafficjam. traffic jam thoughts.traffic. traffic jam. traffic, traffic, traffic. I am a miserable **** Traffic jam.
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45
You must be strong, intensified, like coffee. When you pour coffee into your mouth, you become the coffee. When the coffee goes to your brain, you increased the energy levels. Coffee can be dark and brown, but it sure makes you happy. Become like coffee my friend.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
Be Coffee
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick Lacing my skates after walking two miles in girl-strictured delight Mom's stories of Sonja Henie-- No, not ever Lacing my skates with  snow-ball pompoms felt skirt and nylon tights Cute little hat with matching scarf My thighs and fingers already freezing icy burn from miles on foot to get there the lake where-- I must get out I must get OUT! Knowing what to expect from my body the quick-twitch of muscle Could always sense specific-- gravity of water     at 22 degrees Desiring to feel the motion between ice and steel Read speed's vibrations through my body The brain registers relation to weather's effect Tell of velocity possibility of fall Feel the slash of the blades beneath me Throw my weight sideways, sudden to hear that furious hiss An object in motion tending, dire to stay in motion Threatening to stay there always in its heights-- of speed away-- from the crowds of skaters swirling distant in the lights Seeking instead the farthest reaches of Porter Lake speed and speed and more to overcome inertia of what it is to become undone at the outer edges, of humanity A force centrifugal unto myself Avoiding Pregnant and slow with years and babes.... The best must be broken and tamed of what it takes to stay free catching the edges with every stride catching my toe in the quick 180 spray of frost to the sudden still Listen to the frigid chill and the heave of my breath tumbling into evidence Gliding Once Forever-- on, into darkness of woods on frozen water The wildness of it all So infatuated with flight so full of grace I forgot Sonja The moon rose from her seat in the treetops and applauded
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Night Skating at Porter Lake
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick Lacing my skates after walking two miles in girl-strictured delight Mom's stories of Sonja Henie-- No, not ever Lacing my skates with  snow-ball pompoms felt skirt and nylon tights Cute little hat with matching scarf My thighs and fingers already freezing icy burn from miles on foot to get there the lake where-- I must get out I must get OUT! Knowing what to expect from my body the quick-twitch of muscle Could always sense specific-- gravity of water     at 22 degrees Desiring to feel the motion between ice and steel Read speed's vibrations through my body The brain registers relation to weather's effect Tell of velocity possibility of fall Feel the slash of the blades beneath me Throw my weight sideways, sudden to hear that furious hiss An object in motion tending, dire to stay in motion Threatening to stay there always in its heights-- of speed away-- from the crowds of skaters swirling distant in the lights Seeking instead the farthest reaches of Porter Lake speed and speed and more to overcome inertia of what it is to become undone at the outer edges, of humanity A force centrifugal unto myself Avoiding Pregnant and slow with years and babes.... The best must be broken and tamed of what it takes to stay free catching the edges with every stride catching my toe in the quick 180 spray of frost to the sudden still Listen to the frigid chill and the heave of my breath tumbling into evidence Gliding Once Forever-- on, into darkness of woods on frozen water The wildness of it all So infatuated with flight so full of grace I forgot Sonja The moon rose from her seat in the treetops and applauded
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80
They rest all over whilst I was rooted to the ground, the water acting like superglue as my limbs stretched out. Towards the clumps of land rods of steal and wood weaved, to connect and ***** that which we call humanity. But there were abuse on the rods formed by hands who'd calloused hearts, poison coursing through their veins, but not a single thought was given for they were innocent in their brain. Said limbs and rods spiraled out, as nothing was left to chance, intertwining everyone's destiny in majestic flare and grace, grand like a ballerina's dance. But the poison was too corrosive, the termites were too much, as everything eroded, imploded, crumbled and buried under mounds of earth. But today is different, a new beginning, a new life. As if the gods have willed something better to arrive. Indeed they came: Ports forged from purity anew, where fresh legs are delivered and old legs whisked away. For no matter how dark it was, is, will be, even during the night, there always is and will be a pip of light.
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 7:46 AM UTC
A Gift of What Was and What Will
“Moby ****  Herman Melville <•> ~for the lost at sea~ after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence, return to the island caught between two land forks surrounded by river-heading flows bound for the ocean great joining the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools, bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances, peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls sea accepts them then drowns the warm newcomers in the unaccustomed deep cold salinity, which sometimes erodes sometimes preserving their former freshwater cold originality I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed, no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed, walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom, no depth perception limitation, reading the floor’s topography, millions of minion’s stories infinite, many Munch screaming god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders, a daytime travel guide, hired for me, not a friendly travel companion,  nope, God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation, designated for the masses, can handle large parties my in-camera brain  eyes, record everything for playback - the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles walk shore to ship, on soles to souls, is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting? puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness, conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep, is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence, my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored, older visions clarified and future poems will write themselves and sea to it my predecessors be better remembered Memorial Day 2018
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
“the sea... jeeringly...drowned the infinite of his soul...to wondrous depths...he saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom and spake it”
“Moby ****  Herman Melville <•> ~for the lost at sea~ after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence, return to the island caught between two land forks surrounded by river-heading flows bound for the ocean great joining the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools, bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances, peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls sea accepts them then drowns the warm newcomers in the unaccustomed deep cold salinity, which sometimes erodes sometimes preserving their former freshwater cold originality I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed, no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed, walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom, no depth perception limitation, reading the floor’s topography, millions of minion’s stories infinite, many Munch screaming god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders, a daytime travel guide, hired for me, not a friendly travel companion,  nope, God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation, designated for the masses, can handle large parties my in-camera brain  eyes, record everything for playback - the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles walk shore to ship, on soles to souls, is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting? puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness, conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep, is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence, my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored, older visions clarified and future poems will write themselves and sea to it my predecessors be better remembered Memorial Day 2018
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44
Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness where my eyes can see but it's like my head is just pitch black and I almost wish I couldn't see anything, like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while sometimes I get stuck in this space and I feel like my tears and my thoughts are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat blocking my airway suffocating me from the inside maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings that don't take over my mind crawl through my head like little worms eating away at my brain my thoughts my skin have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind Shiver through your body like it was a demon you let in through a memory- through a word maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed because I wasn't strong enough my depression fills me to the brim fills my head and my chest my arms and my fingers I can feel it moving through my body I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me every last vein, nerve, ***** and tissue how can you expect me to have the energy to fight how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone to open my mouth how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel I feel so worthless in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything it's taking everything but my skin and it disgusts me can you imagine the feeling, having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately It felt like you needed to be cleansed like you needed a shower take that feeling now imagine it being under your skin imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you imagine all you wanted to do was to GET IT OFF and you can't no matter how hard you try you can't scrape it off you can't claw It off imagine you're scared of spiders now imagine you're covered in spiders and someone's holding down your arms so you can't get them off imagine them walking on your skin in your mouth crawling on your open eyes in your ears you're cringing at your own skin You can feel them going down your throat Their disgusting tickle in the pit of your stomach in every crevice of your body their tunneling under your skin and you can't get them off what are you supposed to do but cry
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
Maybe there's a reason I never told you.
Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness where my eyes can see but it's like my head is just pitch black and I almost wish I couldn't see anything, like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while sometimes I get stuck in this space and I feel like my tears and my thoughts are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat blocking my airway suffocating me from the inside maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings that don't take over my mind crawl through my head like little worms eating away at my brain my thoughts my skin have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind Shiver through your body like it was a demon you let in through a memory- through a word maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed because I wasn't strong enough my depression fills me to the brim fills my head and my chest my arms and my fingers I can feel it moving through my body I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me every last vein, nerve, ***** and tissue how can you expect me to have the energy to fight how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone to open my mouth how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel I feel so worthless in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything it's taking everything but my skin and it disgusts me can you imagine the feeling, having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately It felt like you needed to be cleansed like you needed a shower take that feeling now imagine it being under your skin imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you imagine all you wanted to do was to GET IT OFF and you can't no matter how hard you try you can't scrape it off you can't claw It off imagine you're scared of spiders now imagine you're covered in spiders and someone's holding down your arms so you can't get them off imagine them walking on your skin in your mouth crawling on your open eyes in your ears you're cringing at your own skin You can feel them going down your throat Their disgusting tickle in the pit of your stomach in every crevice of your body their tunneling under your skin and you can't get them off what are you supposed to do but cry
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70
Gaze on that woman by the train. With curves like gunpowder that will shoot fireworks again. As her and I once were. Since then, of women, I've abstained. My chest is a pyre to the damsel I couldn't retain; fondness that won’t expire. You say I could never attain and imply I'm a liar!? Or you think either me insane or least she's miswired? The evidence on my brain - melancholy, ire - the despondent husk that remains, need you more enquire? ...True, of her, no displays of pain; eyes that jolt not tire, poker voice tipping no disdain, legs that feed desire! For her, gone love is not a chain hidden by attire or flushed down a forgotten drain. It merely retired. Love like hers was the wind and rain to my earth and fire.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
Elemental Love
Alright now, right brain, you're being insane. No, left brain! I'm just being alive. You should try it---you might like it. I worked hard to give him everything he cared about. You were worried about the things that he was scared about. I'm calm and collected when you act wild. I am the adult, you are the child. You think you're the right one every time! You think you know everything, but you don't know anything at all. Half of his problems were s'posed to be mine! But you wanted everything. I hope that you're happy--- 'cause he's sure not.
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
Left Brain, Right Brain
Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn, More coiled steel than living - a poised Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs Triggered to stirrings beyond sense - with a start, a bounce, a stab Overtake the instant and drag out some writhing thing. No indolent procrastinations and no yawning states, No sighs or head-scratchings. Nothing but bounce and stab And a ravening second. Is it their single-mind-sized skulls, or a trained Body, or genius, or a nestful of brats Gives their days this bullet and automatic Purpose? Mozart's brain had it, and the shark's mouth That hungers down the blood-smell even to a leak of its own Side and devouring of itself: efficiency which Strikes too streamlined for any doubt to pluck at it Or obstruction deflect. With a man it is otherwise. Heroisms on horseback, Outstripping his desk-diary at a broad desk, Carving at a tiny ivory ornament For years: his act worships itself - while for him, Though he bends to be blent in the prayer, how loud and above what Furious spaces of fire do the distracting devils **** and hosannah, under what wilderness Of black silent waters weep.
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41.2k
Thrushes
dissociation a curse dissociation my enemy enemy barges in enemy takes control control is crippling control must go go seek advise go to friends friends may ignore friends may listen listen to god listen to nothing nothing is something nothing is numbing numbing craves alcohol numbing craves drugs drugs are prescribed   drugs will fix fix my brain fix cracked mirrors mirrors taunt me mirrors tell lies lies i tell lies cover bruise bruise my hand bruise my brother brother is silent brother please forgive forgive me father forgive me mother father please help father is futile futile defines me futile invites suicide suicide with pills suicide i survived survived from coma survived in hospital hospital is helpful hospital gives answers answers for family answers to problems problems with doctors problems with diagnosis diagnosis is discovered diagnosis is depersonalization depersonalization creates poet depresonalization becomes mad mad poet
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
enemy within depersonalization (Blitz)
She’s more fun when she is drunk At least…until she’s not Because she’s puking in the toilet And regretting her last shot She’s more confident when she’s drunk Gorgeous and ready to score Until she looks in a mirror And feels even uglier than before She likes herself more when she is drunk Until that feeling goes away When she is so far beyond gone That her self-hatred comes out to play She’s happier when she’s drunk All her issues leave her brain But they all come crashing back at once And cause her so much pain She likes the world more when drunk It’s filled with so much good Until one little thing sets her off And she hates it all more than she should She likes life more when she’s drunk Her mind for once feels still Terrified of losing that feeling She soon wants to end things with a pill But she can stop any time she wants Or so she’d have you believe Because alcohol makes her seem so happy That is, until all her friends leave
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Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
Alcoholism
When I look into your eyes I see more than just brown... I see pools of dark chocolate in which I want to drown. Like shots of aged whiskey they intoxicate me- I forget all my troubles and for a moment, I'm free. They make me feel warm, so safe and secure. No longer a sinner- they make me feel pure. They're the color of sugar when caramelized, with a devilish charm that has me mesmerised. Much like the earth drenched in rain- with unstoppable force they now flood my brain. To be lost in their depths is where I long to be... but those perfect brown eyes were never meant to see me.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
Perfect Brown Eyes
Summer heat summer sweet With a wealthy nature, rich pheromones erupt Birds n tha bees escape the trees Please don't plant your seeds But throw the leaves Up n up To get down and drop Where the dirt pops Ken keseys ashes Edible umbrellas turn rainy days on their head spinning pupils wide void of discontentment Fairies fly off clouds and stars fall at day Impossible, feelings are blown in and out of proportion to fit a screen thats too small Tough love Tough life Slick surface don't let me fall off the boat as it rocks Swisher wraps over the curves Got me feelin lucky like a charm Cheef all day got me smellin dank as a Rastafarian Only stoppin to sip my Captain Morgans moonshine Till we hit the caribbean Then Jack's got me headin for tides end Early Flush the bile outta your system And spiral out of controls iron hand **** responsibility, Apathy rules all. Paper crane ******* get all superficial but yellow bones make my brain go fuzzy in smokey *** In n out, fast n slow Nicotine dominates My senses are lost at Molly That ***** finger ****** my life Made me *** every time This unhealthy relation in action doesn't phase me yet, I'm too young to think that far I mean What do you expect? A Teens crowded perceptions can be judged like a bums intentions. Peace my brotha Dandy danny says theres a way out -side with the rap culture Shots of rebellion pour through the cracks we each fill The glass Is too cracked to be see-through West coast vibes kick back lax attitude I carry on my shoulders Forever green is my state Wash that **** off your lawn crack *** haters I'll spray paint your *** Equality's the goal **** race **** sexuality I see soul Open up Show me your beat I'll count bars as we spit elicited slurs drizzled to drops leaving the cops to stop us Quit Obeyin the brand
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
Summer Heat Summer Sweet
Summer heat summer sweet With a wealthy nature, rich pheromones erupt Birds n tha bees escape the trees Please don't plant your seeds But throw the leaves Up n up To get down and drop Where the dirt pops Ken keseys ashes Edible umbrellas turn rainy days on their head spinning pupils wide void of discontentment Fairies fly off clouds and stars fall at day Impossible, feelings are blown in and out of proportion to fit a screen thats too small Tough love Tough life Slick surface don't let me fall off the boat as it rocks Swisher wraps over the curves Got me feelin lucky like a charm Cheef all day got me smellin dank as a Rastafarian Only stoppin to sip my Captain Morgans moonshine Till we hit the caribbean Then Jack's got me headin for tides end Early Flush the bile outta your system And spiral out of controls iron hand **** responsibility, Apathy rules all. Paper crane ******* get all superficial but yellow bones make my brain go fuzzy in smokey *** In n out, fast n slow Nicotine dominates My senses are lost at Molly That ***** finger ****** my life Made me *** every time This unhealthy relation in action doesn't phase me yet, I'm too young to think that far I mean What do you expect? A Teens crowded perceptions can be judged like a bums intentions. Peace my brotha Dandy danny says theres a way out -side with the rap culture Shots of rebellion pour through the cracks we each fill The glass Is too cracked to be see-through West coast vibes kick back lax attitude I carry on my shoulders Forever green is my state Wash that **** off your lawn crack *** haters I'll spray paint your *** Equality's the goal **** race **** sexuality I see soul Open up Show me your beat I'll count bars as we spit elicited slurs drizzled to drops leaving the cops to stop us Quit Obeyin the brand
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