"eliminating" poems
Technology
Has empowered humanity
Like humanity has been never been empowered
The concern
It has not only empowered humanity to a new level
Brings in the ill effects humanity might face
In the present and future
The new concern for humanity
The use of technology in the wisest way possible
Earth and nature
The very root of humanity
Been in shade
Noblest thing that can be done
Is the wise use the of technological advancement
In the pathway of revival of nature
In the natural and earthly essence of life
Of course
In global scenario there are corporates
Big hulks
That only go for accumulating more and more
Whose concern
Is not the nature and humanity
Now the question arises
The history of humanity
We crave to discuss about now
Has it the future time frame long enough?
As the past time frame
We are talking about in interest
Or the ignorance and unconscious humanity
Lead to the path of eliminating its own race?
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
With all of the technology that's around these days
have we not in fact become enslaved by its ways?
It should be used towards the immediate benefit of all mankind
eliminating poverty, hunger, disease and to enlighten the mind.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 10:47 PM UTC
foundational fluctuation
as flatulence is introduced
that’s right
**** jokes
pppfffrrrttttt
destroying families
undermining relationships
damaging friendships
ending love
breaking the mold
extinguishing the fire
eliminating the excitement
drowning fun
and smelling bad –
pretentious vegetarian
wind walker
kale excretions
cabbage attack
cauliflower bandit
spreading propaganda
and funk
while talking trash
about cigarette smokers –
I could go on for days
making egg comments
referring to the arrival of Eddie’s
big brown shark –
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
Sixth grade was the first time I remember feeling out of place in my own body. I tried on a shirt from the year before and realized I wasn't the same size anymore. I felt strange for a moment, then brushed it off. I threw away the shirt the next day. By the end of middle school I knew I was bigger than my friends, but I tried to avoid thinking about it. I just wanted to fit in like the rest of them.
Freshman year I got called fat and decided to make myself invisible. Treated every food as if it an allergy. Lost 30 pounds in 60 days. Told my parents I already ate. Told my friends I was eliminating junk food. Told no one my secret for years.
Gained my weight back then lost it just as quickly. The never ending cycle of starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Nobody notices when I fall off track because disordered eating is only cared about when the victim is skinny enough that you can see the evidence. I have been terrified for four years to speak out for fear nobody would believe me when I told them.
No one expects a bigger girl to not know how to feed herself.
There is something to say about a culture so warped that I get upset by the fact I don't have a stereotypical eating disorder body.
Sometimes I wish it was more obvious, so at least that way they could see how hard I'm trying to be perfect... To fit in.
America, am I not sick enough for you already?
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Four parts, woven together
Uniting all universal truths
What others do with it's powers
Only the future will prove
The first strand displays the world's true nature
Destroying everything it creates
We become unwanted children
Who have learned to incorporate
Killing in our communities
Biting, grinding flesh and bone
Swallowing with guilt free demeanors
Only leaving foul-stenched excretions as evidence
Second Strand speaks of our basic biological anxiety
To deny the terror of death
Imperatively born, emerging from nothing
Given a name and consciousness
Hopelessly abandoned from the beginning
Only to be fated always with everlasting death
Strand three
We hide underneath the
"Vital lie of the character"
Pretend to be shining knights in armor
Who will make us forget our
Unconscious anxiousness of death
We all work to attain prestige, money, and the
Fleeting feel of immortality
Worshiping Gods with clay feet
And when our beliefs are attacked
"Holy wars" becomes the pseudonym for
Our immortality projects
The last strand
All the efforts we put into
Making this Earth perfect
By eliminating scapegoat "enemies" and "evil" deities
We end up making everything filthy
In the effort to make everything right and pure
We turn the Earth's soil black and color the sky red
We strived for utopias, making dystopians
All these actions seem unconscious
But it is not the animals nature or
Evolutionary process
It's just us trying to pretend
We don't have perishable bodies;
Trying to deny death
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.
My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.
A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.
A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.
Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.
A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.
Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.
Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.
Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.
A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.
A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)
A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.
A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.
A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.
An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.
A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.
A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.
Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.
A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.
Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
I look with worried eyes, at social Vines, of flashing lights and a lack of rights.
Human compassion is lacking where it needs to be.
Hate feeds off of hate,
but if thats all it takes,
then **love should come so easily.**
Bashing in windows.
Spraying with mace.
Choking to death.
Eliminating race.
Classes are gone,
So classless mistakes,
are now made daily
at the hastiest rate.
We’re starving and hungry for the tastiest taste,
of what has become the most delicious
most suspicious,
vicious,
fishy,
repetitious,
superstitious,
vision named freedom.
It's naive to think we’re free when all that we see,
is a sea of beings not being one thing,
and that’s free.
When was the last time you felt it?
And we’ve been given a life long song and dance of "whoever smelt it dealt it".
So if you took the feeling of now and held it,
bottled it up and shelved it,
you would open up to find your mind in decline.
This moment was better
while laters behind.
Thats the path that we’re on
but we have control.
We’re not egos and clothes,
we’re people of souls
We're humans of thought
Not students of hate.
Evil got a head start,
but now truth is in the race.
And if truth is in your face,
and you choose to look away,
then get used to the abuse
and not confused at truce-less fates.
The pre action of action is thinking to act.
I'm thinking that actually we’re ready to snap.
They’ve bent us too far,
for us to go back.
The past is a place where patterns attack.
And people are put
no matter the facts.
Police are afoot
demanding the last,
of freedoms they take them,
and **** them with gas.
A historical scene on Kentucky blue grass
these colors don't bleed,
yet we see they fade fast.
We’ve exceed the need,
to keep things intact.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC
You’re like the sweetest heart
You’re like my miracle
You’re the only one I want
You’re like the World Series
You’re like the saints ,won
You’re like the eagles versus
You’re like frog legs in Paris
You’re like my always pads
You’re like every ticket I’ve ever had
You’re like my air bag I never want to use you
You’re like my little angel’s eyes
You are second hand smoke
You are on my way to my God
you are my music high way
And every Mexican blanket
You are a field of hay and a single strike of lightning
You are every unfinished piece
I know I’m saving for our children
I have seen them in make shifts so we can definitely make time for everyone
Keep me on your next list
You are all the self help books that I read for my own mend
You are prevention magazine
And you’re mom is all the wax I accidentally spill out of candles
I think you’re my insecure side that’s scared to love you in front of the neighbors
You’re all the days I showed up late to school for Chuck Norris jokes in detention
You’re all the lonely drives I take and really enjoy the scenery
You are Oreos and Sonic Ice
You are better than any view
You are every sing
le time someone
took me to the zoo
You are the pink palace
You are mismatched socks
You are solid rock
You are for twenty in the morning on the dot
You are every time that I cannot forget dingus
Or every time we drive I sing to you
Or when we got locked inside of the parking lot on signal mountain and the park ranger came to help us so soon
You are my best friend coming to see me when I got to college
You are the patience I gain when I
Stop wondering who the one is
Maybe you are every time I run away
You are all the times I cry so hard that it starts to rain
You are the doe that always comes near and is never afraid of what will happen next
You are the day you told me I was the girl you dreamed about
You are the day we sat in the back of my car
You are there for me when I have gone too far
You meet me further than any arrest or charger cord
And Graceland too
You’re my wonderful morning
You’re my answered prayers for sunshine
You’re every single word I type in black and white
Messy cars aren’t so bad too meme my love for this love is the only art form I choose
Loves eliminating my clouded culture
I’m ready for the day when eagles fly over
Thank you god for everything
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC
My tires went over the cracks in the road
As I drove by people standing on the sidewalk
Exchanging words, emotions, dreams
I passed them on my way to the cul-de-sac
To exchange money, drugs, humanity
The pedestrians penetrated me
With piercing eyes of persecution
They thought they hated me for being there
But their hatred is what led me there
They injected hatred into my life
The way I injected ****** into my arm
They injected banality into my life
The way I injected ****** into my brain
They injected austerity into my life
The way I injected ****** into my heart
They prayed that my sedation was of a more permanent nature
Before that they prayed for the permanent sedation
of my ****** nature
Wanting me to be fully awake
But not fully alive
They snuck into my mind
And exchanged emotions with emptiness
I snuck into their house
And exchanged furniture with emptiness
They exchanged words with the police
Who exchanged my freedom
For everyone else's peace of mind
But the exchange between the excommunicated
Exacerbated my exiled existence
The steel bars placed before me
Paled in comparison
To the bars that surrounded my heart
And faded from memory
When the Xanax bars entered my system
Until I couldn't walk anymore
Making me Professor X
Hiding out with the other mutants
Trying to lecture the world
That zombies turn to demons
If the exchange isn't examined
When they exit their enclosure
Sidewalk standers turn to explanations more elementary
Eliminating empathy
While elevating themselves above us
This is the epitome of our exchange
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
redefining awkward definiens
endorsing victorious evening
clamoring hawk-like intonations
conjecturing additional goals
optimizing ambient network
winning illinoisan night
trapping hacked-up events
warping æsthetic remnants
resuming inaudible overture
rallying auric-state net-work
defying anti-punk technophobia
eliminating cavalier homies!
minding icelandic anniversary
winging ersatz excuses
kicking ecstatic nerves
denying lackadaisical event
questioning upper echelons
brûlant en calice
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Festivals are appreciated by many just because they mean public holidays..
Some of them may also be holy days..
and they also reunite us people together..
They are the days in which there are no enmity..
but only unity..
the days in which everybody are supposed to be happy..
Today is Diwali,
a festival celebrated by Hindus,
but this does not mean that only Hindus can celebrate it..
Its all about sharing and helping other people,eliminating the darkness and most importantly,
bring light in your house,lives,and in the lives of others..
Happy Diwali to ALL of you guys!
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC
In a land where the sun will shine
Softly on our bare skins,
The cool, calm water will flow over
Our feet dipped in-
Sparkling, soothing, tickling,
While we’ll both lazily lie,
Arms spread out, time stretched out,
Truths and worries left behind,
Where the only possible distraction
From each other’s sight could be
That of a butterfly fluttering by,
We'll track, over lilacs and yellows, its flight,
Then suddenly we’ll catch each other’s eyes,
And once again forget the presence of all life,
Just soaking in the profoundness,
Of being side by side.
And my fingers, freed from
All shackles of wrong and right,
Will slowly move over soft, wet grass,
Eliminating whatever distance before us lies,
I’ll touch for a moment, your fingertips,
And I’ll test you, wait for your reaction,
I’ll see it on your smiling lips,
And at last with your heavenly fingers,
Mine will entwine,
To finally fill that love-shaped void in our hearts,
For the union of our souls to never grow apart.
Wait for me in that land, my dear,
Wait for me; I’ll meet you there.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 3:47 PM UTC
I should of left you years ago had I only known how much more pain you could actually cause me . If I'm getting honest perhaps i did know but I didn't want to admit it I wasn't ready I couldn't let you win to take power over me. I suppose I kinda got off on it the way you could make me feel incredible by eliminating my desire to feel at all. Or maybe I got off on the way you treated me always putting your needs ahead of mine the abuse and pain I believed I deserved. God how pathetic I was but I guess that's why it was so easy to get to know you to become devoured by your sweet seduction.. at the time I really needed you you saved me I guess that's why it's so hard to say goodbye to you as much as I truly sincerely ******* hate you and I do hate you I can't figure out how to escape the love I still will always have for you. You saved my life after all.. then you made it feel far from worth saving. I'm sorry it's been a good run but I'd say it's about time you've had this coming for awhile but I'd never been ready till now… and so I stand here hopeless Tired and ******* mad as hell to tell you it's time to go I'm ready to move on it won't be easy it isn't going to be easy but you win I surrender i am powerless over you and my life our life has become unmanageable I know when I'm with you that's the way it is.. so I'm leaving you to begin to pick up all the wreckage we made to buckle down and deal with my consequences for once in my life. And I have hope that one day I'll find someone better I'll be someone better and who knows I might even like me.. addiction you've been Dumped for Me so how does it feel? Wait you don't feel do you but don't worry I won't forget about you i couldn't I know your always there betting wishing waiting for me to **** things up expecting me to just come running back to you… and I know that will always be an option but right now I'm choosing life and feelings and depression and devotion and Hope never letting that Hope wonder to far away holding it close living Just for Today…..
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 7:32 AM UTC
There are clocks turning backwards
there are rights being lost,
you might think you’re unaffected
but things are worse than you thought.
For your wives and your daughters
are now property of the state;
they’ll be tracking their cycles
and they better not be late.
For your women are now watched
by the militarized state;
The old laws have been eradicated,
cause it’s freedom
the republican fundamentalists hate,
and like the Taliban, your freedoms they’re taking.
You better vote soon, before it’s too late,
cause your rights are disintegrating.
Come fathers and husbands
throughout the land
let’s give them an electoral beating
that they’ll understand
your vote is your voice
so please take a stand.
If the freedom of privacy's worth saving,
you better vote soon, before it’s too late,
cause your rights they’re eliminating.
Aug 29, 2023
Aug 29, 2023 at 9:37 PM UTC
Hanging at the end of
Strained rope
Swing my lost ambitions
And desires
My sanity swaying in the
Cruel winds of
Loveless night
Just a square peg
Confronted with
A round hole
Dropped anchor on
The shores of insanity
It seems so beautiful here.
I must create my own world
As my place in this one
Does not seem fitting
Genius is wasted
Upon the buffoonery
Of mass ignorance
Intelligence shunned
Brilliance and uniqueness
Frowned upon and cast aside
For the normality of uninteresting
****** zombies
The painfully intelligent
Forced into subversion
Hiding their gifts
For fear of being outcast
Men who cling to the faults
Of their fathers
And stories of stir crazy, house wives
Cabin fever was invented
To thin our stock
We all toy with the desire
Forcing blind eyes
Into the faces of
The gifted
Substance abuse is often a malady
Of the painfully intelligent and artistic
Drowning my will to be weird
My own underhandedness
Innately forcing my inner self
Beneath a cloak of politeness
This world
This living theater
Where we all assume
Our own role
Where our actions are
Transcribed
And cast upon us
Like stones on the river
I have grown tired
Of acting the fool
Prepare myself
For a new role
A starring role
Have you ever felt
The wonderment of déjà vécu?
And the sorrow of knowing
You belong to another time?
I need the exhilaration of a time
When life was simpler,
Yet more confusing
Was Judas the only one Christ trusted
To deliver him to his fate?
Is the human race too cowardly
To be welcomed in the arms of a deity?
Are we too ignorant to recognize
That is has already occurred?
Are we the last remnants
Of an experiment gone wrong?
The plague of the human race.
Devouring consciousness
Eliminating uniqueness
Evolving into our own demise
One too many mutations gone wrong
Retching in the soiled undergarments
Of our father's sins
Reveling in the untold lies
Of mother's milk
I have soured on this world long ago
Bounding for higher consciousness
Looking for the unseen
Searching for the undiscovered
Drug sideways
Through the sludge
Of society
Screaming wildly
Through the entirety
The gene pool would benefit
From a healthy dose of chlorine
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
Hello, you
I guess you're new
Because anyone with any sense
Would know that crossing me doesn't last
I've dealt with plenty of *******
You're not new and niether are your words.
Eliminating you is easier than drinking water.
Doesn't cost much and takes little time.
Surprised? Well, your grand mistake,
Your extremely stupid move,
Was trying to cross a girl like me
Who has absolutely nothing to lose.
Not for a while, anyway.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 8:43 AM UTC
Smiling and communicating is such a pain
But these things I must everyday feign
Because this is a world that lives in a lie
They avoid the truth even if it’s staring them in the eye
I must wear a mask to live in this place
They’d slaughter me if they saw my real face
I’m a rare breed though I’m not the only one alive
Eliminating them makes me the fittest to survive
The ones who make everyone happy are the ones most sad
Perhaps because they don’t want others to have a past so bad
Its true when they say don’t judge a book by its cover
I’m a serial killer; not a friend, nor your lover
Though what I do is for those whose justice is denied
A punishment I receive is I have no one to confide
It’s not the beauty outside but what’s beyond the façade
I have to measure my steps and always choose the right card
Though what I do is not legally right
I punish those who are demons of the night
I am Dexter, master of disguise
It’s not the truth that defines me; it’s my lies...
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
During moments I yearned for forests grown for me alone,
Caressing them in a dream,
I could sense the throbbing of the heart
Hidden beneath my ribs to bless my journey.
Summoning me with a pulse that he recognizes in me.
I heard the noise of abandoned smoke from a moment of care
Join with me,
Forcefully traversing desires to the hidden-most one.
My spirit swung toward him,
Creating a tingling
On lips that devour breaths alive.
I felt ashamed,
But the eye,
In moments—I scarcely know what to call them—that took me on another route
Toward the television, saw warplanes . . . spray death on them.
At that moment,
The fire of machine guns raked all the bodies,
And another fire raked my body when I trained my eye on him
Hesitantly inclining his head
Toward a shoulder unaccustomed to the secret of the stars of war
Or to insomnia.
Oh . . . . I leaned on it!
And when he caressed a dumbfounded person
I felt his fingers like coiling embers inside me.
Bashfulness seized the excuse this caress gave . . . and vanished,
Eliminating distance till the two of us were one.
And the eye—he moaned: May love not forgive her the eye—repeated another evasion
Toward a drizzle of men flung about in the air by just the rustling of a pilot penetrating a building
To fall on screens as the debris of breaking news.
But his breaths . . . shattering the still down of the cheek,
And turning their picture into mist as
Eddies of the screen’s corpses . . . varieties of death that they brought them.
The spirit that became a body,
The body that was sold for the sake of a touch,
The eye that was concealed in his image
And that approached the firebrand of conflagrations.
Everyone drawing close to everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone.
But the thunder of their machine guns splintered them:
Corpses piled on corpses,
I mean on me,
The eyes of those in it were extinguished.
They slept in a trench of silence.
My eyes’ lids parted in a wakefulness obsessed with them.
I rose … and embraced the chill
That the screens brought me in commemoration of Stalingrad.
………………………………
Translated by William Hutchins
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
And the question is, “What constitutes the good life?” And the neurons in my brain automatically begin to connect and arrange themselves into a conveyor belt of possible responses. This is not about fancy cars and giant mansions. This is about searching high and low for the unique existence of character buried in the depths of your heart. The labyrinth of suffering is something that traps and consumes every single one of us. Being aware and accepting the circumstances that will occur after exploring all the different solutions of discovering a way to escape is a major fundamental element needed to survive. Ostracizing yourself from the countless number of distractions in today’s generation to truly identify your individuality is the most crucial procedure in recognizing an outbreak from conforming to false associations. Infinite minutes are wasted every day because there are numerous amounts of interruptions that interfere with our life’s mission. Eliminating these disturbances will erase people’s impulses to shake hands with laziness. More people need to realize that utilizing time and wisely spending the precious moments we have left should be more carefully valued before it is too late. At times like this, it is perfectly acceptable to be self absorbed on account that working towards a goal is in effect. Take the time to focus on figuring out how to learn and how to proceed in expanding the mind’s personality. It is so important to acquire the ability to control the aspect of reason. But once enough experience is achieved to gather the information on how to conquer the labyrinth of suffering, you will then inaugurate the good life.
There is only one way to assemble the knowledge as to where the door lies and that is by simply living life and never giving up. Take chances and live on curiosity. We learn by putting ourselves in situations that are out of our comfort zones, giving the opportunity to mess up. Overcoming the situation is when we gain the confidence to promote ourselves to the next level. Life is full of mistakes but it is about being intelligent about those obstacles. Building up from those faults and taking advantage of everything life offers. We will move on from every mistake only to come face to face with another one. But life carries us. It challenges us. And the brave souls that accept that challenge are the ones that go on living the good life.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
A cactus he loved, all he saw was beauty in her,
the fascinating patterns,were engagingly intriguing,
she sought his thorns, to naturally reciprocate,
to love him, the way she always had known that art.
Never could she find, even one, however she tried,
thorns weren't his attraction, was she disappointed?
she had to learn love transactions, eliminating thorns,
then, everything in place had fallen one by one.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
Got fired but looked as if he bluntly had resigned,
Got penalized for improving every product's design.
And yet created another one, cuz as hell was creative his mind,
"Stay hungry, Stay foolish", was his ultimate key-line.
Not a coder, not an engineer, no technical precision,
No determined profession, except for a couple of visions.
Loved his work and worshipped his love,
Stood apart form the crowd to put himself above.
Eliminating the unnecessary was the magic of his sight,
What phone would you be using, if on his was a copyright?
His fame is the consequence of what he always used to say,
Conventional is always preferred, can you think it in a different way?
Got trolled as the company's name was based on the name of a fruit,
However it has been for many decades, digital technology's roots.
He taught us how to follow one's dreams without always being afraid,
Because thousands of supporters stand behind some handful filled with hate.
He taught me to grab the golden opportunity and not regret on the one that drops,
As like him one day, I will be able to say, "Ladies and gentlemen, My name is Steve Jobs!"
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
"the photographer, as well as the horrors of the warzone, also captured those brief moments of humanity."
"air freshener naturalizes the air by eliminating unwanted odours"
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
It’s a race to the bottom of the bottle
between sanity and sober realization
to every impaired negation and how to
alleviate and mediate the dependancy I
place on finding new routes to the
end of the flask. —
The hands of the bottle hold
dreaded burdens above my head,
bringing life to each morrowed breath,
and write hyms towards yearning
a long awaited wish for death,
sobriety weaves this addiction
of solitude through each thought of
halted life, and pushes it’s back
as it’s heels leave crevices to follow,
a view of darkness to come,
with turning back placing another knot
down a throat with attempt to swallow.
as each run of whiskey drips down the
walls of my throat the sinking ship within
my veins finds strength to stay afloat.
a Wiser whisper tickles at the anticipations
towards taking another sip,
the Hennessy tendencies stutter
a ****** equilibrium captivating
and inching my sanity towards
a shot of sequel librium. —
As ***** spews and consumes
the inhabited ground, a paroxysm
of unconsciousness feels
mentally sound,
blacked out with the following
morning full of acts to repent,
the monetary blackness
proves to be nothing but content,
recollection of priors
seem to fade with the desire of
sobriety and eliminating any hope
towards thoughtless propriety. —
Momentary happiness through
intoxication provides no mediation
between a sober fight for death
and a drunken one, the wish for
lifelessness is just subdued by
stumbling to bed and the inability
to steadily hold a gun to my head.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC