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"flatlining" poems
Glances in passing and nothingness, I'll drop out and take up gardening. And you are so cool, all German bred, and sometimes braided. I see you, so well-read and rather regal. ***** blonde nuclear, alabaster, aluminum rods - electricity dripping from the soles of your shoes. This classroom, my own ink blotted incubator, the radiator sits, flatlining. Your jaw as two razor blades, your shoulder blades, broad, gentle. I wonder how you look in the morning, How you look at yourself in the mirror. Do you practice smiling, and how often do you wash your hair? Oh, you exist in glass, and I will not try to know you. Leaving this poem limited, and yet. Your jam drop mouth houses all well-spoken soliloquies, radical requiems. So, what would happen if we brushed shoulders in passing? Your little accent. Accident, we appeared in the same huddled mass. Literary plugs in the drain, and your new American. So, why don't we just go walking on airplane wings? Some transcontinental affair. Frequent flyer ******* stranger.
0
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
classmates
you should’ve never unpacked your bags, because it gave me this expectation that you were in this for the long run. i’m still running. i have swallowed so much blood that tastes like your regret from biting down my tongue to cage it behind my teeth from screaming about you to a world that wants my blood for ink. i am more than a number, but 24 makes me feel better than 26, so i sit in jeans that leave red marks on my hips and make it hard to breathe, but see it’s two inches and i am more than a number, but i know every test score i ever got and still remember fourth grade and question three and crying because suddenly my mistakes had weight and i couldn’t fix things by saying sorry and i am more than a number, but i was always the middle child, always the not-quite one, not the best friend to anyone, just a girl with kind eyes and jeans that are a little bit too tight and i am more than a number but to you i am seventeen, ten and three. and lets be clear; it’s the three that haunts me, because *** doesn’t matter and ‘girlfriend’ is just a label, but i wish i was the first girl you truly loved, and sometimes i still wish i was the last, but with you i fear i’ll forever be just another number. i drove over 17 bridges the other day and next week i'll do it again and i think nobody gets what that means except maybe you. i just tell them i love the scenery, that somebody must've made these trees blush just for me. you know how i love to change the subject? i bet they'd love the view. i bet you would too. and all these metaphors for other things are beside the point. this is a metaphor for why i don't wear my seatbelt, a metaphor for why whiskey knows me better than you could ever try to. all the buildings seemed to sag yesterday and all the stars are doing that cliche thing where they talk quiet jet noise and some lumbering giant made everything shake. not those hand metaphors, not another one of those & keep the sea to yourself, i think it was a train, it's sound hugged the embankment for a moment and then trailed off into nowhere, and that's kind of like me how there's a town called 'rescue' close to my home and it's no coincidence that i've never been there. i’m just flatlining now and hoping that you can look at the next girl the way i looked at you.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
130 bpm
you should’ve never unpacked your bags, because it gave me this expectation that you were in this for the long run. i’m still running. i have swallowed so much blood that tastes like your regret from biting down my tongue to cage it behind my teeth from screaming about you to a world that wants my blood for ink. i am more than a number, but 24 makes me feel better than 26, so i sit in jeans that leave red marks on my hips and make it hard to breathe, but see it’s two inches and i am more than a number, but i know every test score i ever got and still remember fourth grade and question three and crying because suddenly my mistakes had weight and i couldn’t fix things by saying sorry and i am more than a number, but i was always the middle child, always the not-quite one, not the best friend to anyone, just a girl with kind eyes and jeans that are a little bit too tight and i am more than a number but to you i am seventeen, ten and three. and lets be clear; it’s the three that haunts me, because *** doesn’t matter and ‘girlfriend’ is just a label, but i wish i was the first girl you truly loved, and sometimes i still wish i was the last, but with you i fear i’ll forever be just another number. i drove over 17 bridges the other day and next week i'll do it again and i think nobody gets what that means except maybe you. i just tell them i love the scenery, that somebody must've made these trees blush just for me. you know how i love to change the subject? i bet they'd love the view. i bet you would too. and all these metaphors for other things are beside the point. this is a metaphor for why i don't wear my seatbelt, a metaphor for why whiskey knows me better than you could ever try to. all the buildings seemed to sag yesterday and all the stars are doing that cliche thing where they talk quiet jet noise and some lumbering giant made everything shake. not those hand metaphors, not another one of those & keep the sea to yourself, i think it was a train, it's sound hugged the embankment for a moment and then trailed off into nowhere, and that's kind of like me how there's a town called 'rescue' close to my home and it's no coincidence that i've never been there. i’m just flatlining now and hoping that you can look at the next girl the way i looked at you.
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18
1. immortal stone rolled away. 2. ..........pinwheels rolling on O O O O O O O O O O O O then just flatlining ---^-^---^------^--------------------^----------------------------^-------------------- S T, 8 July 2013
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
Ode to forever’s attempt (10 w)
*Psychic Trance & ****** Dance, Emitting Chemical Solace Dipped In Her Capital Romance, Feral Atmosphere Written In Her Carnal Elegies, Rapturous Serenades Forming Phantasmal Effigies, Magnetized Synchronicity & Metamorphized Reciprocity, Animating Foreplays Dazzling Her Astral Virtuosity, Phantasmal Lips Illuminating Cherub Faces In Draped Compositions, Painting Supernatural Visions Forged In Her Vocal Inhibitions, Prototype Voids & Spiraling Realms, Religious Frenzies In Her Temporal Screams, Autumn Sun Reincarnating The Light Of The Spring, Glass House Perspectives Blooming In Her Prismatic Bling, Rhapsody Confessions Of Her Divine Obsessions, Rainbow Skies Dressed In Her Spiritual Progression, Coral Spells & Synthetic Desires, Floral Pastels Engineering Her Romantic Fires, Nightlife Flatlining Through Her Lonely Avenues In LSD High, A Congenital Sinner She Respires ****** Hues With A Luminescent Sigh! – 05:13 AM –*
0
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC
Psychic Trance & ****** Dance
if you were comatose i wouldn't worry so much everything i write i write for you so when you read this please stop and close your eyes and notice me leaning against your back and reading over your shoulder sometimes i reread my words and try to imagine how you feel when you read them but i read them and i feel so empty i hope you don't feel the same because people have told me i made them cry but i find that hard to believe when i just make myself bored just know i'm curling around your feet i'm hoping my words will help you when you want to hurt i'm hoping you know i wrote this for you because i know you read this in the dark in your room in solitude with the light of your screen turning you pallid and blue but you know blue is better than red black words on a white screen i read once that monotony is ataractic but it just makes me itch and i hope i'm an anomaly and you're part of the norm because i don't know how to make you feel something i don't know but i'm trying everything i can i want you calm i hope my words can be a soporific for you they say that you're not alive unless you hurt unless you never stop moving but in that case maybe i want you in a coma because i saw what being alive did to you please sleep they say it isn't art if it doesn't make you uncomfortable if it doesn't make you itch but artistry was never in my future anyway i just want you to have my words when you want to test your nerves to see if they're picking up any signal at all because your emotions are flatlining but maybe the physical sensation's still there and you are so ragged and i hope i smooth your edges at night when you can't sleep and you seek out the light that makes you pallid and words written just for you and maybe that night you won't itch so bad i wrote this for you because i know when you're alone with pallid light and music you want to hurt but please close your eyes i'm right behind you i'm leaning over your shoulder and trying not to cry because you don't need another burden cause all your thoughts are the heaviest material on earth but i can make it better i can make my words meaningless enough that they can lift you up just a little more you don't have to stand on your own my words can hold some of the weight because maybe you grew up too fast or maybe not at all cause i can tell your body is far too heavy for your heart to support and sometimes your hands are too far away for blood to reach them cause a pulse can only do so much and sometimes it feels like simply living is another type of malaise but maybe i can ease that just for the minute it takes for you  to read this and close your eyes and feel me against your back i just make myself bored but maybe i can help you i hope my words are so monochrome they help you sleep i hope my words are so empty they're like air sacs to help you stay upright  i hope nothing i say resonates with you because the world gives you enough to swallow you don't need one thing more my words can be your sleeping pills i wrote this for you so you could sleep easy tonight and i'll hold your hand and hope you don't dream
0
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
bzd
if you were comatose i wouldn't worry so much everything i write i write for you so when you read this please stop and close your eyes and notice me leaning against your back and reading over your shoulder sometimes i reread my words and try to imagine how you feel when you read them but i read them and i feel so empty i hope you don't feel the same because people have told me i made them cry but i find that hard to believe when i just make myself bored just know i'm curling around your feet i'm hoping my words will help you when you want to hurt i'm hoping you know i wrote this for you because i know you read this in the dark in your room in solitude with the light of your screen turning you pallid and blue but you know blue is better than red black words on a white screen i read once that monotony is ataractic but it just makes me itch and i hope i'm an anomaly and you're part of the norm because i don't know how to make you feel something i don't know but i'm trying everything i can i want you calm i hope my words can be a soporific for you they say that you're not alive unless you hurt unless you never stop moving but in that case maybe i want you in a coma because i saw what being alive did to you please sleep they say it isn't art if it doesn't make you uncomfortable if it doesn't make you itch but artistry was never in my future anyway i just want you to have my words when you want to test your nerves to see if they're picking up any signal at all because your emotions are flatlining but maybe the physical sensation's still there and you are so ragged and i hope i smooth your edges at night when you can't sleep and you seek out the light that makes you pallid and words written just for you and maybe that night you won't itch so bad i wrote this for you because i know when you're alone with pallid light and music you want to hurt but please close your eyes i'm right behind you i'm leaning over your shoulder and trying not to cry because you don't need another burden cause all your thoughts are the heaviest material on earth but i can make it better i can make my words meaningless enough that they can lift you up just a little more you don't have to stand on your own my words can hold some of the weight because maybe you grew up too fast or maybe not at all cause i can tell your body is far too heavy for your heart to support and sometimes your hands are too far away for blood to reach them cause a pulse can only do so much and sometimes it feels like simply living is another type of malaise but maybe i can ease that just for the minute it takes for you  to read this and close your eyes and feel me against your back i just make myself bored but maybe i can help you i hope my words are so monochrome they help you sleep i hope my words are so empty they're like air sacs to help you stay upright  i hope nothing i say resonates with you because the world gives you enough to swallow you don't need one thing more my words can be your sleeping pills i wrote this for you so you could sleep easy tonight and i'll hold your hand and hope you don't dream
Continue reading...
67
time moves forward winding through galaxies coursing through milkyways pulsing through universes hanging on heartbeats yesterday, today and tomorrow happening concurrently burned onto disks stacked on top of each other lifetimes skipping tier to tier peeking through veils of reality scoping inward to Brownian motion zooming outward to life’s whole energy flowing freely through meridians navigating congestion and voids finding balance in life’s peaks and valleys like electrocardiograms my lifereadings on paper lately I’ve been flatlining routines can be boring drudgery stagnates maybe I’m just physically tired maybe I’m tired of life caught behind a rock in a river awaiting a cataract to break me free and restore the song of life’s flow maybe I’m an insignificant speck of dust a blip off life’s radar or maybe the smallest piece of jigsaw is an equal part of the whole
0
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 10:41 AM UTC
Life Puzzles
My body is a roadmap Dotted with state lines and stretch marks and red arrows pointing to You Are Here. There are scars like flags crossing my arms claiming gripping holding fast to this Earth this life Highways that lead nowhere Train tracks that click clack against my ribcage Cars that rumble in my brain. Exhaust fumes fogging thoughts. My body wears these hills on my chest like rugged territory unstaked unstated these weight plateaus like failure flatlining against the horizon. My body is untraveled unfolded uncreased These eyes like lakes see depth from new perspective dipping fresh into cool clear vision. These legs like rivers cut through worlds rushing hard and fast This head like boulder steady and stoic even with anxiety quaking through my core. My body is a roadmap. I seek only adventures within.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:46 AM UTC
You Are Here
Two hands wrapped around my heart, It's a death grip. Two hands lunging for your throat It's blood for blood, love for love. 911 What's the emergency. I have an urgency I need a needle sharp enough to slice And the strongest rope that will suffice To get these stitches in. Gasping for breath but still breathing My hearts still beating From the bottom of my heart I can tell you the pools of my love still ripple waves The richest shades of red Call it cardiac arrest. If you really broke my heart; I'd be flatlining Anatomically incapable of life; I'd be dead.
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
Artificial Heartbreak
I am flatlining. I can see my life projected out and witness all of my goals achieved. So many accomplishments. Everything I've ever wanted to do. And yet... I feel empty. As I feel now, sitting here with an empty head filled with light from the computer screen. It's so late that it's early. We all arrive here, sometimes. When was the last time your hand touched someone else's?
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Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:13 AM UTC
Asystole
I perch here idle hands, administer the dregs of my coffee, to a flagging, dull head agonizing over every flimsy word I might utter to make my dull life bright grasping at a flatlining pulse a woody smile      from the wreckage of my past. Look!           Look at this earnest celebration of chaos                                                  that drives away oblivion.
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
To Write 'Til Three
i was never quite sure as to why you left, but the only answer i can come up with is that you found someone better. you were the air i breathed, everything i ever felt, my sky and my earth and everything in between. you were my lifeline. and it seems like now i'm just flatlining, flatlining. people don't need someone who can't fuction properly, can't be fixed with a simple "it gets better". you walked away and i tried to follow you, hoping you would lead me to live amongst the stars. most nights i can't even look out the window knowing i might see you again. i'm not sure where you are, if you're watching me, if you remember all the promises you made me. i hope you look at the next person the way i looked at you.
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
9.10.14
I raise the blinds to let the world in Fix your coffee just to see you smile Footfalls echo throughout the hallway And I want to stay here for a while I hear the shower running Knowing how hot you like the water I reflect on the evolution of us And how our love burned even hotter Simple complexity is our principle Our imbalance is a shortened fuse I dream of different happy endings You dream of life as a muse I hear the hum of Adele through walls Amazing all that a heart can distort This love born in a summer haze Is flatlining on fall's life support I grab my keys and wallet Yet leave my prudence on the table Goodbye is never uttered Because tomorrow is always unstable
0
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
Evolutionary War
Up on a limb I found the stars and the moon Together Flatlining
0
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC
Cupids arrow
Roads, Dark tar pathways Winding in infinite lines, And going nowhere in particular And everywhere else, With tell-tale markers When you stray. Endless routes To nowhere
0
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
Flatlining
As my hands comb through my hair, I stare between my knees looking into the depths of this unfamiliar wooden floor. The foundation creaking from the wind howling outside, its feral cry full of pent up emotions, filling the night with chaos, mirroring the landscape of my emotions. Pictures so lovingly framed, propelled by chaotic winds, splash into an unbroken lake sending ripples scrambling away as they try and escape the touch of these cherished memories. The golden light of a sunny day spent laughing and crying under pine trees, shines from the depths. The cold grey light of a rainy day spent looking out the tear stained window trying to make sense of this hurricane of emotions, cuts through the inky black water. The constellations of so many memories seems just in reach as I syphon this inky black water through my pen, drawing from the depths of my soul, a straight IV into these flatlining lines of this black notebook that holds my soul.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
My black notebook
*Give them guns , have them come back tortured , depressed and disabled Label them heroes , pay no regard to their high suicide rates , give them hometown parades and let them fend for themselves in the American rat race Vietnam Part II is being played out for all to see                                                     via the internet , laptops have replaced Walter Cronkite , Arlington is slowly being filled week after week Color guards bring cheers at sporting events , our young people are flatlining on our countries streets A painful Presidential election is coming our way , tear gas and rubber bullets on Cleveland's streets , The violence will spread from city to city Watch with fear as 1969 plays out once again*
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May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
Two Score and Seven
I see it like the lines on a monitor, spiking with each beat of my heart, crossing from one point on the map to the next. It was rather uneventful at first, flatlining, if you will, but I can see the increase in frequency and amplitude as my heart beats faster each second, third, fourth time he messages me and I am not so slowly falling for some beautiful boy on the other side of this, one of the largest countries on the Earth, whom I barely even know.
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
Long Distance
Delirium taints the every                      effort to motivate All was elation, before it faded to                 a collection of false                                                effigies... My ecstasy is an overdose,           and I'm flatlining with every smile...
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Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC
Smiles Die With Every
my old heart is failing, oh it's beats are fading, no, my blood, it won't flow. the whole world is edging, off the page, I'm dreading what comes next, I don't know. jagged pieces finely cut, into this poem, but it's lines do turn faint. God knows I'm not ready, for this test, mind heavy with the thought of your pain.
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Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
flatlining
Pull the plug, return the feeling   Resurrect its deeper meaning Eternally internal bleeding Out the suicidal beating Of a barely living being Worth less than the air I'm breathing Further in the dark receding Nothing real to keep believing Blinded by a faith misleading Echoes torture chamber screaming Silently I wither, grieving Elegizing starless evenings Mourning joyous moments fleeting Buried by the grimmest reaping Rotting slowly, maggots feeding On whatever's left of needing Flesh to form my muse appeasing Where I find myself exceeding Astral plane existence seeing In a world of lucid dreaming
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
Flatlining
And the days were full enough and the nights were full enough and life did not seem to move and was like death in that regard. Before the spikes, flatlining snapshots of the unattainable.
0
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
Infancy with Ezra
all my calls are going to voicemail you don’t pick up the phone, you don’t show up where you’re supposed to be I have flashbacks of train tracks and flatlining machines want to run my hands through your hair let my lips tell you that I’m here, I’m right here as they’re pressed against yours The monster in my head is whispering The same one that lives under my bed it’s asking me why you didn’t trust me enough to let me be there it’s reminding me that I’ve been close to having blood on my hands before it’s running memories in my head like home movies im pushing past the crowd, I’m reaching for you There’s never going to be a world where my light is off, my phone is on silent, and my doors locked I’m here whenever you need it darling the porch light is on if you find your way to this part of town, I’m here if you remember for long enough that that used to mean something to us
0
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 9:45 PM UTC
leave the light on
I was born for extraordinary love, A prisoner to a heartbeat, Seductive, captivating, mine. Never flatlining in the outline of us, A hidden agenda filled with time stamps of you. Two stars never falling away from each other. Powerful, guiding, free.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
Extraordinary
Soon Worship nothing Before a false idol Consider these signs That I’m seeing As vital Flatlining And idle Of minding Its business Its dealings Provoking The pulse Of the polls To its feelings For fear Is the sheep To the slaughterhouse Martyrdom I am the bomb In its first class’s Carrion
0
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 1:52 AM UTC
The Secular Numinous