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"dehydrates" poems
There is something about being numb that is addicting It is, sometimes, the only real way to not feel the pain There is numbing medicine that we have all heard of Anaesthesia, which means 'loss of sensation' It is used to induce sleep, which prevents pain and discomfort We have no problem with people using this to numb Alcohol is my anaesthesia It numbs my body, it numbs my mind It pulls me into another time zone where the hands on the clock move faster But everything else around you moves slower All you can do is focus on the next drink coming Rather than the pain being inflicted on you that made you go out in the first place We all are addicted to numbing Some sleep, some get drunk, some get high, We all cannot deny the sweet flavor of feeling nothing The needle piercing your skin but only feeling the cold, not the sting The liquor scratching itself down your throat but loving the burn Igniting a wild fire in your mouth, going down a slope rubbed with gasoline Numbness is an obsession There's something so beautiful in the art of forgetting things Even if it only be for a few hours Alcohol dehydrates you, leaving you dizzy with a mind like a static TV I would rather feel empty from alcohol Than empty in the bed that we used to sleep in together I would rather be numb in a bed next to a boy that I do not know Rather than feeling all the glass I've stepped on walking away from you pressing into my skin while lying in bed alone
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
Numbness
If I were a glass jar I would overflow with a shyness Such a shyness that stunts my growth Blocking the sun never letting me blossom From the tiny seed I am, Into a large oak tree that towers over the shyness Like a cockroach never dying always dismaying I will always remain the tiny seed inside that glass jar Until the seed dehydrates into death And the jar shatters
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Glass always breaks
You think you are the sun divine I look at you and you multiply I’m hungry but I can’t eat Give me those eyes will you My best friend, I was so afraid Lay beside you, your body like a warm sandy beach My body like washed up **** trying to get free I was looking for salvation in the rock pools Little snails and ***** would cling and pick at me Til I finally gave in You turned me evergreen How long til the moon pulls you away Leaves me to rest again, dehydrates me into a skeleton serene How long til your silky arms stretch out again And tickle me into an object of a lust, desires obscene I feel you close Like echoes in a tunnel seeming to whisper in your ear But you’ve a long way yet to grow And know just what this strange **** craves It isn’t simple as giving orders, or showering me with delight The heart of the matter lies in the murky deep, The root causes the illness I wear from head to feet Dissolve me in heavy salt and weightless oil Purify me on mountaneous rock Shake me in the willows endless, indifferent sorrow Throw me away to make sure I’m for keeps And maybe then after years of struggle Summers burnt and winters melted, I will still play my vengeful game and give you eyes that say “I’m better, you will never win.”
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
Schizophrenic lover
... I say, it's a blending of many colors, pale and bold not all beginnings are really green and gold others begin with hazelwood...grayish, almost pale freshens up, when the winds are in one's sails things turn green with aspirations... golden.....when ripe with expectations going brighter, like red-yellow flames, in a live kiln, fueled, fiery confidence...burning within. Middle parts are the most illuminated ones the brightest hours...of afternoon sun... could be radiant yellow...perchance, tangerine, shifting to burnt orange...a bronzed sky...when perspectives change..and feisty fellows start to mellow blaring red turns coffee brown...fading colors follow, we don't want it, but gloom visits ...trailed by fears all become pale, when days get doused with tears. Endings are often called, night...or dusk horizons could be stilled, shaded gray, or black, darkened even more by impatience and waiting...tedium dehydrates the body and soul....ending up consumed, others look up to a starry sky, denim, or indigo blue, anxious with a coming.....twilight? or gray morning? that day, when some go to a blood red sea...seething, where unforgiving, indifferent winds are the ones blowing where many voices bellow...begging, but in vain. for some, dark magically turns to a blinding sun, when it's time for them...to cross over, the other side beckons...waiting, is finally over. Sally Copyright July 9, 2016 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 5:58 AM UTC
They say, life is just black and white...
She's fertile in the desert heart, An oasis in the heat, The palms bow in her honour, Her ripples travel gently, Silver sunshine sparkles, A mirage of fantasy. Death became some who sought her out, The unlucky victims of the desert, Pyrexial desert dehydrates those looking for summer fun, "Shush," can you hear them, those snorts of grumbling camels. What a godsend, That oasis in the burning sand! It's really there, You sink to your knees and drink! (C) Livvi
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Desert!
I hear it echo deep beneath like water that drips one drop at a time into a quiet cavern. Echoes turn to rhythm and I am filled with a familiar melody as I blink, walk, and breathe to the beat. Sung from underwater, it can exhilarate me conjure up feelings of dance and storm; but mostly it exhausts me dehydrates me, and I am pulled under. What used to seem like momentum I hear like dragging feet and the drips do less to complement than to contrast the storm I once could taste. I know that I am the ocean but with waves that tire the current can be lost. Sometimes I feel like the drop dripping over and over again and I am futile, worthless. Sometimes I feel like the cavern empty and waiting, absorbing more than I contribute and wasting time. But I have learned by sinking and racing (and failing at both) that often the best thing to do is just to float, and listen.
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC
Sung from underwater
I will always have the fear of love . A fear of relationships and love tends to be deep-rooted, and be connected to a fear that love hurts (quotes) The heartbreak, the intimacy of knowing, that they were there And now they are in the arms of another, Doing the things that they had promise to us Like loving us to death, while opening mortal wound: Death ends a life, not a relationship>” Mitch Albom What is lovely never dies, but passes into another loveliness I hate my x, but not his offspring, I love coke- cola but not the caffeine I love *** but not the togetherness: I will always have the fear of love, But I will always remember that one kiss, The last goodbye, but his first hello That look in his eyes, the day I saw him cry I won’t apologize for guarding my heart My expectations, of him shatters us (My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. Luke 3:15) I shall not be afraid to walk the street alone Without his hands in mine, or his comforting words At the stop light, “please wait before we cross” But I still have the fear of love for the mortal man He oppresses, dehydrates and ever suffocates us (quotes) However, God’s love never fails us: I shall always distance myself from love Even many might say that love is life, And life is worth living without that kind of love. I shall never tremble again, nor grip my heart Because love had disappointed me My love for them is real, they love for me is about the money, ,
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Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 2:22 PM UTC
Fear of Love
Moist in there giving,             but woeful are the dewdrops that evaporate                       clinging to verses. Momentary metaphors dispersing           before others acknowledgment of there potential.                      But still clinging to dawns  perception.                 Reading  between every analogy, That all that dehydrates can sew new seeds.
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Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
Dawns Dewdrops Of Perception
I am an idea But I'm just a nobody Taken with a grain of salt I cause you to pucker As the electrolyte Dehydrates Your sense of reality Its fabric Ripples and waves At my intrusion Into the certainty Of your world Leaving behind ghastly Spectres Embattled within A war they cannot win Nor hope to escape As my identity Crushes the prominent Ignorance Which fears wisdom Above all else
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Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
The Wisdom of an Idea
Oh to feel the sun on my face, Makes my world feel a better place , Gentley warming my insipid skin, After a winter of living within, Central heating dehydrates, Hot climates it cannot emulate, Of course it's bad for us they say, I'll take my chances anyway, So I will just sit and enjoy the sun, When it's not shining out my ***
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Where the sun shines
Your words become waves As they gently kiss the barriers of my mind, I've always admired the stillness of the ocean As it carries cowardly sailors back to shore, For the depths of my ocean dehydrates weak minds And drowns those who swim with closed eyes, But I like how your words tip toe when you speak I often wonder about the fragile thoughts your lips will never mutter, But I will remain wading For the day you'll skinny dip Your way into my ocean, Till then I'll admire your presence On your midnight walks as you visit my shore.
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC
Sunset
Drip drip, Rivulets, Swarming silver drops, Like rivets on cold metal, But you are hot. Perspiring, Burning, Crazy lady runs, Chasing her own 24 inch waist, Fighting fat. Lycra leotard, Labelled, Fashionista fitness fetish, Wanting every eye to desire her, Dehydrates, Sizzles, Drizzled, Expires.
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Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC
Running out
Boredom strikes notes of rhythm. Monotony drags everyone into trance. Blazing heat dehydrates the body, but the insecure mind remains untouched. The staircase is the same and the number of steps remain unnoticed. Passion disperses into the heap of dry leaves people from the past revisit through memories. sunlight disappears into the night tube-light keeps me awake murky ponds of sarcasm now lay dry, parched. Within the vacancies left behind by silent awakenings I seem to linger on in hopeless hope tasting every ounce of sour juice of pain experiencing thrills though pain remains engraved in my soul I do realize suffering is still just a choice, an option that has now withered away , watered by smiles.
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
Untitled 2