Nina Campos Jul 28
Eat
You need to be, to be beautiful
But I can’t
My tears in the dark make me ugly
My insides are rotting
My heart is icing
Like on a cake
But I ate too much
You tell me how I shake the world
And it hurts me
My bones break
My back bends
My muscles hurt
I still keep up with your requests
You want me to be beautiful
But I can’t change how you make me feel
Gemma 2d
He's rubbing me
through my clothes
something wonderful but unfamiliar
does it so very well but I can't let him know
Because it will blow the atmospheric fear of being bad at this sort of play
He'll soon find out however as I'm gonna overload
all over his face.
ashton May 14
I didn't choose it
I didn't wake up one day and tell myself
let's be anxious
let's be depressed
let's want to die
let's start self harming
I didn't choose to be like this

slowly my problems
my monsters
became visible
they started small
skipping lunch
making a cut or two on my hand
shaking for a while in school
but I fell

I didn't choose to be this person.
We just get handed who we are.
I didn't choose this.
I never wanted to be that

I didn't want to be riddled with anxiety and insecurities,
to wallow in self-pity and sleep for hours everyday
to stay up all night with anxiety
to steal razors
to eat one-hundred calories and then barf it back up
but that's what happened.

I didn't choose this
I didn't choose
I didn't choose to tear apart my life.
it just
happened
I'm really good right now but in a reflective state currently oof
You was like,
need your help...
I was: Yes,


Help you Odo-Ban
and dirty jeans
my only soap.


Help you Odo-Ban
and dirty jeans
my only soap.


EAT MY BISCUITS!
u V p
fuc(K)

Those my biscuits,
Ban-dana Jean...
my comely soap.


NIGHTED

* Help you Odo-Ban
and dirty jeans
my only soap.

You want to be an "activist?"  Go live on the streets..Ben Franklin lived on the streets, Karl Marx did also, Davy Crockett, come play with nothing.
THE FLAMES EAT THE PSEUDO-GOTHIC HOUSE


He was an Action Man
minus a left arm and trousers.

A dog had chewed his head
almost off.

But - he still had thought.

She was a Lego Lady,
Built of red and blue blocks.

She was forever coming apart
trying to keep body and soul together.

She had only one eye
and no mouth to speak off.

Same dog who had a passion
for the chewing of toys.

But - she still had thought.

They met one night when
thrown together in the toy box.

A giantess' voice had screamed
"YOU TIDY UP THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW!"

He loved the Lego Lady's yellow block hair.
It was like a helmet...suited her face.

And oh that one little eye
and the way it would look at you!

She saw at once that he had no genitals/
but then - neither had she.

It was a purely platonic affair.
They thought and thought at one another for hours.

They got on like a house
on fire but

one night the house
went on fire.

They held on to each other
both melting into a final embrace.


Mother always told me
"You shouldn't play with matches!"
A re-telling of Anderson's THE CONSTANT TOY SOLIDER in today's terms yoked together with a friend telling me of her early career as a child arsonist. "What was I thinking...?" she told me with tears in her eyes. "I loved that house...down to its mullions and final...but then...so did the flames. It was something I grew out of when I hit my teens....then it was all boys...boys...boys!"
Francie Lynch Jun 25
The hood won't be the same,
We're out standing in the rain,
To encourage sprouts as we once did our children;
For down the road you see it's as legal,
As a Timmy 'n cream-cheese bagel,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

On this side of our border,
Starting this October,
We'll bake it, vape it, roll and bowl to take it;
Down the road you see it's now legal,
The price of home grown's dropped to zero,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale and some will eat it;
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

I'm awake and it astounds me,
My four plants that surround me;
We've realized what we've long been dreaming;
For there's a store where we can cop some,
Come the fall fresh buds did blossom,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.

Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale, and some will eat it,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.
Sung to Tom Jones' "Green Green Grass of Home."
Pot becomes legal in Canada on October 17th. We're permitted to grow four plants per household. Finally.
A "Timmy" is a Tim Hortons coffee.
An older neighbor of mine
did recently confide;

"Reckon I'm gettin' ready to die,
my mind ain't working so smooth
anymore, open my skull and what
might 'ya see, would resemble some
surreal Salvador Dali painted scene.
All melted watches and disjointed shit.

My legs are unreliable at best,
my back continually aches,
blasted headaches refuse to abate.

I shuffle along like some broke
down thing, balance sketchy at best.
My recall comes and goes like a
random weak spray from a garden hose.
Spurts, leaks running here and there,
No continuous steady stream going
anywhere, not unlike when I try to pee.

They took my drivers license,
said I was incapable today and
would be more so tomorrow.

I used to dream of things I'd do,
beautiful girls I'd like to screw.
Now any dreams I can recall
revolve around food and that's
pretty much all.

I wake at 6 AM each day
my body racked with pain,
eat some mush and sit in my chair,
fall asleep and wake 'bout noon.
Repeat some food, return to my chair,
turn on the tube, 20 minutes in feeling
like the world is a hopeless damn mess.
Even todays music ain't fit to hear.
Taking me yet another nap in my chair.

I used to care 'bout lots of things,
now I can't remember why or where.
If these here are my golden years,
I'd rather be young, broke and naked
in the back seat of my '48 Chevy,
lovin' my Cheerleader girlfriend Amy,
now those were the Golden Years."
He has no living family, lives alone,
his dog died last year. He took down
all the clocks in his house, gave away
his granddads pocket watch. He leased
out his farm, got rid of his animals. Sold
off his John Deere tractors to a neighbor.
Uses only two rooms in a big old house
with ten . He is alone as alone gets.
He's 86 uses a cane to steady his steps.
We would need to walk in his shoes
to know his pain, in a few years perhaps
we too will know what he means.
Could this be why young people
avoid old people, I bet it is. They can't
stand looking in their Futures mirror.
The difference between actions and habits, is often measured by the person you're asking.  
One bump, one line, one half ounce... All shared by people you don't even give a fuck about.

These chemicals make me sick --
Limitless...Why quit?
When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this?
Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted, if drugs in his day were half this good.

"Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."
Walk and push the limits of a real fine line...
If I don't kill myself, or someone else... I'm happy.
Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing.

Gasping as I swerve lanes --
Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily.
Living a-live.. Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.  
Chase feelings.

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You know me, right?

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You love me, right?

I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide...
Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.
To bridge the gap in the great divide
No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers.

Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason...
To stay or leave Him.
He makes excuses...

                                                     ­                        ... Believe Him.
Luz Hanaii Jan 2014
Many people eat, or shall I say swallow or devour their food too fast.
First I pray over my food blessing it, giving thanks for its source
of nourishment, I give my genuine appreciation for what I'm about
to eat.
I take a bite, zip or small mouthful, savoring eat bite, chewing carefully
for a very long time, without haste, without the feeling that I must
quickly satisfy that hunger feeling.

I am able to detect each and every flavor of my meal, the salt, the sweet,
or tangy flavors, each and every spice in that meal.
The more I chew the better my digestion will be.  I also eat in a mind of
gratefulness for this meal the earth and the hands of my brothers have
provided for and brought to my table.

Small portions become filling and I don't require a second helping.
I make peace with my food, my digestion and my surroundings.
This is not a time to plan, worry, fear or rush... just thank and enjoy!
Namaste~
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