"cited" poems
i can't believe i'm living out my life's
10 seconds of stupidity with
an un-payable debit account security
of future credit, loans, debt and moaning...
**** me double twice blind with a joker in hand...
of course i'm stupid, i got educated in
a world that pays you back with menial
labour, to look pretty... seriously,
don't do the stupidest thing imaginable and
get yourself a university degree, unless
you're a woman, that's fine, you'll get to
meet and voluntarily wet your ******
with the next president of Romania,
but we need idiot mechanics, and believe
me, i'd rather oil up car pistons like
stroking giraffe necks of Myanmar women....
from **** generals cited through to Epicurus' citation...
believe me, i wish i was smarter,
most of posthumous fame is a regard of
obstructive i.q.,
we were believed to not take offence at our
exposure to systematisation
which educated both thief and banker...
none of the two differ... both excusable buffers...
we trusted people... trust was our biggest idiotic remark...
and now the earth in spin... for endless maxims:
it's like that... and that's the way it is;
no wonder i end up watching serial killer
documentaries.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
He hit the canvass
cold last night;
that impressive frame
and charismatic soul
father, son
and consummate brother
went down for
the proverbial
10 count;
complete with iron band
and Iroquois
tap out pipes
and that fashionable
Frank Smith vein
there was no grudge
in this match
no condemning contest
or mad cap bout
just mano a mano
with the dark apparition
and it played out
precisely
(despite the bills
and pressing deadlines
and calls from Christ)
it came with tears
and fear
in that decisive
and surrealistic
voice from the ridge
they all arrived;
on plains
and trains
valiants
and fat boys
from across seas
and remote hills
bringing tales
and sorrow
angels,
laborers
and mourners
in mass
with eagle wreathes
and adorning pine
it was cited
as natural
but there ain’t
nothing natural
about The Heater
going down
nothing natural
for the
mauy thai bossman
with black leather gloves
and golden heart
the giver of hope
to those blue
collar dreamers
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
As I ****** your cheek and cup lovingly
Fervor runs through my veins; you felt the intensity
In seconds, you read and sight in my eyes
The vehemence and ride to my surprise
Down to earth you are, pinned on the wall
Clamors were cited throughout the hall
To rush in a room filled with ecstasy
We couldn’t care less, now it’s just you and me
Laid on a soft surface and have the gates wide open
Given with sanction, both parties have spoken
With passion written all over and seen through action
Just to end the night with love and satisfaction
May 15, 2021
May 15, 2021 at 4:14 AM UTC
I know a great storyteller
Since when I was 7
He who once narrated stories with all the emotions and expressions
Has now left for the heavens
Tales of witty animals
And the animal kingdom itself
He cited various examples
But now he's no more himself
Every story was a kind of message
That the old man feed into two young children's mind
He will never be forgotten
The storyteller, who have now died
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
Let me share a short story..
This is not like some fairytales,
So don't you worry.
It stated with the word SORRY..
I don't know how?
But all become so messy.
All I wanted was peace..
But suddenly,
I've never been at ease.
My nights are getting longer..
As I think of YOU,
I slowly become a loner.
I want to be isolated..
In my secret place,
That no one ever cited.
'Coz I'm frozen when your near..
I don't know what to do,
But to stay QUIET my dear.
I try to hide what I feel..
I give my best,
But you unfold what is real.
Now that you know everything..
I can't LIE,
That was so embarrassing.
Words don't want to come out..
I'm speechless,
And that's no doubt.
All I felt was pain..
Full of SADNESS,
And completely in vain.
Now I have to forget..
I'll make sure,
There will be no regret.
But as I walk away..
You hold my hand,
And ask me to STAY.
What shall I do?
When all I had,
Was pain from you.
We started with the word sorry..
I hope,
We will end-up with the word HAPPY
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
Have I ever had
an original thought?
I've been told
that, 'Everything we ever
write is just an accumulation
of all we've ever read,'
or something
like that.
I don't remember
by who, but I've cited him
Chicago Style
in my heart.
It started young, with my name.
Permanent ink on the soul,
a cliche. I hated
hearing it,
over used and
haphazardly
picked out of
a book.
If I have children,
they won't suffer from recycled
personality disorder. I'll
start them off right,
give them names
that don't
exist yet.
One in a sea
of Lindseys. My
post-modernism
lost-cause syndrome
in itself
is unoriginal.
How can I write
in stream of consciousness
with two decades of
songs stuck in
my head?
This isn't new, I've always
plagiarized while I dreamt
of you, hallucinated
my creativity, now I can't
even picture you without
sappy lyrics
sticking to your
clothes.
I am merely stealing like
an artist, another concept
I stole, brilliant,
but don't
thank me.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 10:55 PM UTC
It seems like these
Girls they got
These thing
Going
Right breaks
Lines
Like flowing
Thigh
Crushing us into points on a dot into internet bliss
****** by ****** ******* ******
Their. I's dotted miss. That no soul lies on the internet. It's not a bed to rest in.
It's a pit of battle. Boasting
In front of Ginsy
And Kowski
Don't just string words
Or you'll be like me trying to make the first *** shot on the world.
Grow a real root. Though it's hard. "I know" suburbia and such.
Calm down.
Don't ******* chive.
Grow a plant. Do something real.
Real guys are there. They are my friends. You don't have to be on this cite to make me feel cited. Just ask.
Go to English class and learn to hate poetry. Then re discover after you found out you're stupid. 'Cept you Quinn.
Then invent a new love.
It's you.
**** dudes.
Girls are so much more than Ginsberg ever said and less than Bukowski never did
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
You were there
Among millions of sweaty bodice
returning from the festivities,
Shouldn't the sky seem particular
Of a colour of a romantic being
pushing poetry in the likes
Of citizens of the night
The Universe unbothered by who killed whom
Or the philosophy of life,
Errands running from the bishop town or the markets of dream
Rush hour of the busy life,
I ask the meaning of life,
The holy pages of what not the monks, the sky,
The ask of truth, the sands of time
From a distance, you went by
And weren't a vision from the ornamental fashion they sell
I saw you never,
And I am cited for hell,
But your eyes sold the the meaning of life,
And this foolish passerby, could tell.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
In this day & age
It's almost better to be locked in a cage
The economy got drunk & is acting strange
Sometimes it is NOT "time for a change"
Now you're lucky if you work above minimum wage
It's seriously a ******* outrage
I don't even want to read onto the next page
I'm sure it'll just create more rage
The curtains need to finally close on this stage
& be thrown in the dump with the garbage
Eventually the rich & famous will fall
Hitting that good old wall
No more shopping visits to the mall
Don't expect anymore girls night call
No one will be able to "ball"
NO ONE AT ALL!!
No mor bragging about money, no reasons to brawl
& Kayne how does it feel to ball & end with a crawl
Haha isn't that some **** ya'll
It's nothing but a bunch of ********
People whining & complaining in a huge fit
About every little tiny bit
Although no one is doing anything about it
Therefore the worse it'll continue to get
Going nowhere like a batter who can't hit
A benchwarmer he'll forever sit
Never trying to improve anything, just choosing to simply quit
Throwing in the mit
There's a lot of talking, no actions yet
******* ***** when everyone's a hypocrite!
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 7:37 AM UTC
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
They come prepared
For an all out war,
And they are ready
To fight tooth and nail
Until no man is left standing.
With supplies unceasing and
Weapons of mass destruction,
All of our lines of defense will fall.
We are not capable
Of withstanding the continuous onslaught,
Indisputable is their power,
Unending is their greed,
Unimaginable is their cruelty,
Unwavering is their faith
In complete and utter victory.
Inevitable is our demise,
Inapt are our defenses,
Inexperienced are our allies,
Inexorable is their march to
The beat of our doom.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
Passion drives them onwards
To conquer all lands that
Dare to oppose them.
We can not hope to last
Like the Spartans at
The Battle of Thermoplyae
No matter how strongly
Our laconism inspires us.
As mankind’s future dims
And is ultimately vanquished
Before our very own eyes,
We can only hope
That our end is quick
And merciful in execution.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
As I watch the heads of
Friends and family fall,
The decapitation of hope
Is as absolute as the blood
Smeared across the castle walls.
We refused to listen as
They cited holy scripture
To vindicate the necessity
Of our annihilation.
We held strong to our faith
In eternal glory as martyrs
For our philosophies and convictions,
And they bore witness
To our determination,
But we bore witness
To their determination
Only to watch it demolish
Everything we cherished.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
I have uttered my final statement,
To forever be the last
Hoarse whisper of my existence,
“You will see the error of your ways,
And I will not repent for the sins
You claim I have committed.
I will let the all knowing
Judge and condemn you all
For the atrocities committed
By your people.”
Then my blood soaked
The soil of my Earth
As my entrails slid out of me,
And I fervently tried to
Force them back inside,
But it was all in vein.
And my final vision
Before complete oblivion
Was my still beating heart
In the hand of my enemy.
Die Zwergen Armee kam
und Wir starben.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 6:43 AM UTC
within Zieglerville, pennsylvania
genuine snow white hair
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private)
after i croon (to said lass),
the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission
perchance twill be doomed from the start,
and hence finding me forlorn
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure,
would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness),
aye also resort to buttress
any aural "stormy Dani yelling)
via walled in interlap,
which accouterment functions
as a double agent i.e. (or,
to be rather crude),
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news
inducing madcap
mass media circus
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap
essentially providing wig gull room
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap
pill low ma rendered free and clear
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms
most likely something internuclear
simply to discover visa vis authenticity
if cute employee
(sporting hair
white as the ****** snow),
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited
all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
*i wait all weak for the newspaper sections i read to arrive,
the magazines of sat. and sun.,
the style section, the culture section, and the news review,
things that matter to be honest.*
i wonder why people want brave ethnicity,
they want the long ships the arabs do
listening to viking metal,
the vikings want peace and quite,
but with global capitalism
and the defunct national socialism:
if only the jews weren't involved
the single pathology, all those able and nimble,
we get no ethnic bravery,
we only get citizens and astronauts,
the only exploration geography is empty and vast
space, and since we're using fossil fuels
we're exploring and destroying at the same time,
like the olden days: plunder and pillage mechanics,
but we're waiting for the other exploration
dynamic, where almost everyone is involved:
turn an autocrat to be paired with a tsunami
or an earthquake and you get panic,
pair the tsunami / earthquake with democracy
and you still get panic...
pair it to a theocracy and you get theories
like evolutionary history with the time scale all
too wobbly extending too far, people
think of gooey eggs easy in 5min,,
but monkey to man in 5 minutes - where's
the adaptability issue concerning?
the darwinian per se dislodges man's
adaptability concerns - historically it was going
to be either Stonehenge or the Giza pyramids,
darwinism dislodged man's adaptability
to future concerns by favouring debate of past truth
and whether mathematically speaking:
the geometric beginning of x, y, z, was
a will to live from the standpoint of (0, 0, 0),
denial of denial creates a propeller, kantian
given 0 = negation.
instead of being as darwin stressed evolutionary beings,
we've become historical beings,
with 24h news reels, with celebrity culture,
trying to piñata nazis... japan conquering with karaeoke
singing... loss of story telling...
with intellectuals trying to pinpoint and in an arena
of plagiarism agree a historical date
where dialectics is impossible... because something
is cited, circa, and the circa defines one person being
wrong and the other person being right...
evolutionary analysis made us so overcome by our history
we're trying to live a single day out,
but in 24h news reels no important historical event will take
place... i call it historical insomnia...
as a scot might say: eh maytee,
das est shovel of ***** (linguistic allegory: shy kite)!
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
Twin snakes berthed on the wrists
One born of innocence, one born of sin
One lies asleep, the other awake
With a lidless stare and a restless ache
Tongue twists between forever and for naught
The heart yearns to reach the momentous, often cited fraud
‘Impossibility,’ the serpent screams
‘The unproven disease’
Slithers on the spot
In perpetuity
With a ceaseless speech
I follow completely
In my wake
Is dust and death
The once conscious snake
Has become rotting flesh
Upon my right
The other stirs
Fat and swollen, it smiles
Calling itself sin
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
Yesterday’s gravity
Pulls threads in weaved cloth
Blown and scattering waves
Massive like black holes and small
Like the wings of humming
Birds of Planck length down feathers
On a drifting radiowave
While watching the television in a
Padded
Rooms inside Schrödinger’s box
Contained by hypertension
Like the hairs that grow in fibers of
The cerebrum’s
Neurons which inflate and warp
His hands shook like the rabbit ears
On his old television, wood paneled with
Outdated
Textbooks like his shelves
And enigma is his cited source
In his teleportation box, bedridden
Things in
There are superstrings on the walls
Floating eyes on the atoms of loneliness
Quark fizz, structural quanta on
Yesterday’s gravity
Pulls threads in weaved cloth
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
a single light in only black
next to me, a child lies sleeping.
i hear his cries, feel his tears,
but if i wake him, he won't make it.
good poets make you lock eyes with the noose
and call out to your old friend, death.
long time, no see.
you cited a beauty in madness-
the single beam of light cutting
deeply through my synapses.
your hair waved around me while
we held each other, sobbing.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC
just say paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy paddy / paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 / U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy U2 paddy really fast... i just can't imagine the word that is excavated from the flurry flurry flurry of a tarried tarnish.
st. p a t r i c k
XVI
I
LI
XLIX
IX
III
XI
via "numbers" in letters -
the trinity of 666 was cited.
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 10:17 PM UTC
♪ ♩ ♫ ♬♪ ♪ ♩ ♫
[for Snare Drum]
Client-centered, data-driven,
yet their sins are unforgiven.
Tweaking the assessment standard
while the Word of God is slandered.
Current practice (science-based)
meanwhile, souls are laid to waste.
Evidence-based evaluations
fail to stall abominations.
Power slideshows, bullet-pointed
bypass Christ, the Lord’s anointed.
Titled expert: talking wraith,
buzzword-based, devoid of faith.
Sources cited, praxis theorized.
Mankind’s plight ignored, unrealized.
Humankind enthroned, enshrined,
entombed in shadows yet unshined.
Branding, marketing, organized crime:
brother – can you spare a paradigm?
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
An empire built on enslavement
conquering and plunder
striving to maintain order
via censorship in a modern milieu
the irony isn't lost on me
watched the news today
a self declared expert
cited a rather lengthy inventory of mass murders
a veritable host of troubled people
he seemed well informed
but half dead inside
as if something was internally devouring him
an expert in stolid stage craft
oblivious to his self inflicted harm
until he watched the playbacks that evening
pretending, posturing, play-acting, contrived concerns
now collapsed in a fit on the floor
groveling pitiful fragment
vomiting bourbon tears
out of sight, above detection
by them
the watchers
tomorrow, a different city
another "shooting spree"
another interview
another barren bereft onslaught of absurd rhetorical questions
hand ringing, and staged pandering consolations
another pallid parroting reporter who thanks you for "tuning in."
"next up, Sports!"
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
"Pigeon droppings cited in bridge collapse"
—Toronto Star
Behold the ***** birds that felled a bridge
Of concrete, iron, and steel routinely made,
Dropping by dropping, pigeon after pige-
on adding contributions grossly laid.
An engineering feat commercial grade,
The bridge could not withstand the pigeon poo,
And, from the scourge of filth, the bridge decayed,
And fell as all decaying things will doo.
(When not creating mayhem, pigeons coo
And congregate and caper in the park,
Returning to their nests—tu-whit tu-whoo—
Before the owl can hunt them in the dark.)
And so we see the danger we permit
When pigeons are allowed to give a ****
Aug 17, 2022
Aug 17, 2022 at 12:04 PM UTC
Black and White Black and Yellow. The second keyboard and a small pinpoint. B İzimi'i. Now the warrior story and the very bad woman. AAPP 3 / Bailey Lionesses and Natte Naidi,
In the 40 years since the leader of the Abyssinian diocese, a female leader marches to Tacitus, and the BBC and BBC leaders have been assigned to soldiers of Saudi Arabia's Gala soldiers. The young man and his grandson have cited the Syrians,
Churches, Muslim Plans and a series of generations. Black and White smoke in the BBC, BBC News, BBC News, Laptops, Food Supply and Arabia, the mouth of the mouth, the Welsh Orders model, many free programs
in the Arab Emirates, Tinkengi candy brush, and Latina Natalie,
slim and slender.
Point out your song and song in the big throat!!
Africa, Australia, USA is part of the Geographic
Division of the United States, Europe and South America. George Griffin's words, livestock, martyrs Emperor Thomas, their friends and their families,
and the German light, the strong ideology and Christianity
that symbolized the Christian life, the bridges were gathered in Russia, England and the United States. In the morning fire and poetry, a brief booklet of the Uppsala, and a lawyer and former colleague respect the son of a dead man. In the second hour, the woman was a delusion, a god, a Roman god, in the same god, a Roman goddess of Rome. In the eye, the old trees are screams and high health benefits. The Mexican Mexican Mexican Museum, Vitamins and Minerals, filled with mountain chains, dense clouds and miraculous dreams. The beetles in my head were "in England, Guinea, the United Kingdom, the barracks, the raging, and the lives of marine life in the United Kingdom." Antiplical machines are the first payment for the first poem of the poem. It was posted on the special foot. Black and White Black and Yellow. The second keyboard and a small pinpoint.
B İzimi'i. Now the warrior story and the very bad woman.
AAPP 3 / Baily Lionan Nattenaidi In the 40 years since the leader of the Abyssinian diocese, a female leader marches to Tacitus,
and the BBC and BBC leaders have been assigned to soldiers of Saudi Arabia's Gala soldiers. The young man and his grandson have cited the Syrians, Churches, Muslim Plans and a series of generations.
Black and White smoke in the BBC, BBC News, BBC News, Laptops, Food Supply and Arabia, the mouth of the mouth, the Welsh Orders model, many free programs in the Arab Emirates, Tinkengi candy brush, and Latina Natalie, slim and slender.
Point out your song and song in the big, big throat!!
Africa, Australia, USA is part of the Geographic Division of the United States, Europe and South America.
George Griffin's words,
livestock, martyrs to Emperor Thomas,
their friends and their families, and the German light, the strong ideology and Christianity that symbolized the Christian life, the bridges were gathered in Russia,
England and the United States. In the morning fire and poetry, a brief booklet of the Uppsala, and a lawyer and former colleague respect the son of a dead man. In the second hour, the woman was a delusion, a god, a Roman god,
in the same god, a Roman goddess of Rome. In the eye, the old trees are screams and high health benefits. The Mexican Mexican Mexican Museum, Vitamins and Minerals,
filled with mountain chains, dense clouds and miraculous dreams.
The beetles in my head were "in England, Guinea, the United Kingdom, the barracks, the raging, and the lives of marine life in the United Kingdom." Antiplical machines are the first payment for the first poem of the poem.
It was posted on the special foot.Black and white Black and yellow.
The second keyboard and a small pinpoint. B İzimi'i. Now the story of the warrior and the very bad woman. AAPP 3 /
Bailey Lioness and Nattenaidi In the 40 years since the leader of the Abyssinian diocese,
a female leader marches towards Tacitus,
and the leaders of the BBC and the BBC
have been assigned to soldiers of the Saudi Arabian Gala.
The young man and his grandson have quoted the Syrians,
the churches, the Muslim plans
and a series of generations. Black and white smoke
on the BBC, BBC News, BBC News, Laptops,
Food Supply and Arabia, by word of mouth,
the Welsh Order models,
many free programs in the UAE, Tinkengi;
candy brush and Latina Natalie, slim and slender.
Point out your song and your song in the big throat!
Africa, Australia, USA UU;
It is part of the Geographic Division of the United States,
Europe and South America. The words of George Griffin,
the cattle, the martyrs, the Emperor Thomas,
his friends and their families, and the German light,
the strong ideology and Christianity
that symbolized the Christian life,
the bridges met in Russia,
England and the States United. In the morning,
fire and poetry, a brief leaflet from Uppsala
and a lawyer and former colleague respect the son of a dead man.
In the second hour, the woman was a deception,
a god, a Roman god, in the same god,
a Roman goddess of Rome. In the eye,
old trees are screams and high health benefits.
The Mexican Mexican Mexican Museum,
Vitamins and Minerals, full of mountain ranges, dense clouds
and miraculous dreams.
The beetles on my head were
"in England, Guinea, the United Kingdom,
the barracks, the rage and the lives
of marine life in the United Kingdom".
The machines antiplicas are the first payment
of the first poem of the poem. It was published in the special foot.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
It’s Hard Not To Be Optimistic: An Updated Sonnet to Science
by Michael R. Burch
“DNA has cured deadly diseases and allowed
labs to create animals with fantastic new
features.” ― U.S. News & World Report
It’s hard not to be optimistic
when things are so wondrously futuristic:
when DNA, our new Louie Pasteur,
can effect an autonomous, miraculous cure,
while labs churn out fluorescent monkeys
who, with infinite typewriters, might soon outdo USN&WR’s flunkeys.
It’s hard not to be optimistic
when the world is so delightfully pluralistic:
when Schrödinger’s cat is both dead and alive,
and Hawking says time can run backwards. We thrive,
befuddled drones, on someone else’s regurgitated nectar,
while our cheers drown out poet-alarmists who might Hector
the Achilles heel of pure science (common sense)
and reporters who tap out supersillyous nonsense.
NOTE: I am a fan of both real science and science fiction, and I like to think I can tell the difference, at least between the two extremes. I feel confident that Schrödinger didn’t think the cat in his famous experiment was both dead and alive. Rather, he was pointing out that we can’t know until we open the box, scratchings and smell aside. While traveling backwards in time is great for science fiction, it seems extremely doubtful as a practical application. And as for DNA curing deadly diseases ... well, it must have created them, so perhaps don’t give it too much credit!
Submitted to U.S. News & World Report
Dear Editor,
While I’m usually a fan of your magazine, as a writer I must take to task the Frankensteinian logic of the excerpt I cited, and I challenge you to publish my “letter” as proof that poets do have a function in the third millennium, even if it is only to suggest that paid writers should not create such outlandish, freakish horrors of the English language.
Somewhat irked, but still a fan,
Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: science, fiction, quantum, physics, Hawking, Schrodinger, cat, DNA, infinite, monkeys, typewriters, Shakespeare, lab, animals, new, features
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 4:11 PM UTC
YOU NEVER INITIATE CONVERSATION UNLESS YOU NEED ME FOR SOMETHING AND OUR FRIENDSHIP IS BUILT ON YOUR MENTAL HEALTH ALONE. ONCE YOU RECOVER I WILL BE NOTHING TO YOU UNTIL YOU RELAPSE
BECAUSE ALL I AM TO YOU IS SOMEONE WHO CAN TELL YOU HOW TO BREATHE. MAYBE
IT'S GOOD THAT YOU LIKE TO TELL ME ABOUT HOW I'VE BEEN KEEPING YOU ALIVE
BUT I'VE JUST BEEN PUTTING
YOUR OXYGEN MASK ON YOU BEFORE PUTTING ON MY OWN YET YOU NEVER ASKED ME IF I COULD HOLD MY BREATH THAT LONG.
YOU NEVER ASKED IF I CAN BREATHE LIKE I TELL YOU TO. YOU NEVER ASK HOW I'M DOING UNLESS IT'S LEADING UP TO ME SAVING YOU.
I'M SO SICK OF IT BUT I CAN'T JUST DROP YOU OR ELSE YOU MIGHT DIE AND I'M SO ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED OF BEING
CITED AS THE CAUSE OF ANOTHER DOWNWARD SPIRAL THAT I'LL JUST KEEP SUFFOCATING MYSELF FOR YOU.
IT'S FINE.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
it might've meant more
if any of the words we used
had actually been ours
though I guess that explains
why when you left
and I looked to see if my heart was okay
there was just an empty space
the veins tied up in MLA-formatted knots
like citations
for all your stolen speeches
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC