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"fragmenting" poems
Melting down, crossing barriers, breaking out, stepping round. Pieces fragmenting, character isolating.  Green-acid, hair follicles, white is the blank slate, painting blues with reds. Freaks from a sideshow, muscles in the sea, six-packs in a grog-shop, dancing improperly. Beguiled by your bounce, sleep-walking this town.  Fine is the white wine, poisoning the liver, spining on a sixpence, ********** follows dinner.
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Crazy
I've started a habit, I ignore the best of advice. I see the gold but I can't reach out and grab it. My chances lost, thrown away, life doesn't suffice anymore. Just shouting at the god that has ****** me!! **** it!! He strikes me, smites me, I can't fight back and he bites me. Self belief burned and buried, self esteem shot down and slowly drowned. The power I crave is unteachable, untouchable, unreachable and unbearable. I have such foolish ambitions and desires. Never to have greatness and my helpless soul is on fire. Duck, drop and roll, send me to the poles to freeze, please!! Reduced to begging, I'm a disgrace, you better take that ugly grin off your face. I'll continue to flow It like a poet so that you feel my self loathing. I turn on the TV and look at the news, It's not good apparently. The whole world's becoming a zoo, It's so true. And guess what! The sky's not even blue, It's red!! No wait; thats just the pain in my head, pain from exaustion, or maybe just hunger. Life's a mess. I need to get this crippling weight off my chest, can you help me? Force the world off my chest, then I'll carry it on my shoulders. Gonna live like this until my fragmenting fragments are broken.
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Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 2:59 AM UTC
Self Loathing
*chopping the carrots and the onions with tears.. this fragmenting in linear time.. now dialogue ensues carrots and onions join other friends ingredients unite..! a community in heat transforms and shapeshifts.. an aroma announces a new creation a quantum delicacy before her eyes...*
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
Real cooking
~ *Pieces of this and that From remember when It used to be a flowershop She used to smell of roses Panting church candles Now and again From the quiet corner of absolution Eyes closed to the dusk of sensualité In search of lost time "yearning for a song of reply"* ~
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Dec 26, 2021
Dec 26, 2021 at 1:16 PM UTC
Utterly Fragmenting
You love my light, but can you embrace my darkness? My madness, my neurosis, my insecurities? You love my laugh, but can you love my tears and my scars and my pain as deeply as you love my joy? You're willing to bask in my glistening iridescent infinite divine red aura splattered in gold tones...but will you be there when I'm unable to lift myself from the abyss of my ever churning, ever condemning, overthinking mind? You want to celebrate my successes, but are you willing not to be overly critical of my failed attempts? Are you willing to encourage me and believe in me when I can't do it for myself? I'm simultaneously happy and sad, hot and cold, unfettered and bound, knowing and ignorant, open and closed, sure and unsure, deep and shallow, obsessed and unconcerned ...can you handle that? Can you handle me? Is it too dizzying of a realization that every part of me has a deep opposing counterpart? Will you stay? Will you leave? If so- I've just given you permission to do whatever you feel that you need... You can't have my light without my darkness. You can't have my joy and discard my pain. You can't have my sanity without my insanity. You can't gather the things that you like and discard the ugly parts, further fragmenting my already fragmented soul... Every part of me longs to feel the warmth of the sun Every part of me longs to shown off like a most prized possession Every part of me longs to be nurtured and cared for and protected and validated Not by everyone- but by YOU I don't need them. I just need you Every part of me longs to be seen by you felt by loved by You. Every. Part. See my heart, taste my thoughts, feel the colors of my memories Into me see Intimacy ~KiCo!
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Intimacy
You love my light, but can you embrace my darkness? My madness, my neurosis, my insecurities? You love my laugh, but can you love my tears and my scars and my pain as deeply as you love my joy? You're willing to bask in my glistening iridescent infinite divine red aura splattered in gold tones...but will you be there when I'm unable to lift myself from the abyss of my ever churning, ever condemning, overthinking mind? You want to celebrate my successes, but are you willing not to be overly critical of my failed attempts? Are you willing to encourage me and believe in me when I can't do it for myself? I'm simultaneously happy and sad, hot and cold, unfettered and bound, knowing and ignorant, open and closed, sure and unsure, deep and shallow, obsessed and unconcerned ...can you handle that? Can you handle me? Is it too dizzying of a realization that every part of me has a deep opposing counterpart? Will you stay? Will you leave? If so- I've just given you permission to do whatever you feel that you need... You can't have my light without my darkness. You can't have my joy and discard my pain. You can't have my sanity without my insanity. You can't gather the things that you like and discard the ugly parts, further fragmenting my already fragmented soul... Every part of me longs to feel the warmth of the sun Every part of me longs to shown off like a most prized possession Every part of me longs to be nurtured and cared for and protected and validated Not by everyone- but by YOU I don't need them. I just need you Every part of me longs to be seen by you felt by loved by You. Every. Part. See my heart, taste my thoughts, feel the colors of my memories Into me see Intimacy ~KiCo!
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35
i can't ignore, the way it makes me feel the cut of a thousand stars soaring, fragmenting falling into tiny pieces i left you wanting more but all that remains is a casket of ruins for a forgotten love when everything is easy i'll stand in my own way like a villain in my own story the harshness of me burning against the softness of you this fleeting feeling is so temporary alone at last but it is not where i want to be.
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Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 10:56 AM UTC
self-sabotage
i am lost in the wisp of your faltering the fluttering of concrete entrenched into stoic rigmarole to reach out layer by layer peeling unearthing a catatonic subdivision of disjoint subdivisions a limit ordinal between touch and feeling where we kiss on the cusp of that silent ocean on the edge of sound drowned in the nebulous familiarity of a distant melody a tired resolve re  solve the old puzzle  muscle memory's misted amnesia half the pieces falling out the warn tinderbox inarticulate drowned severed isomorphisms over brea(d)thless infinities self adjoint matted topologies nestled snugly in the amniotic absolution of form before being       hands of matted ice contorted into perfection by the sculpting propensities   of undulations of estrangement, where we touch in the cusp of self reflections thousand mirrors inverted propensities                         infinite infinitesimals   nestled meromorphic partitions hidden corners in the brevity of dusk multiplicities fragmenting behind empty veils (  to be seen is to be made discrete    to be discrete is to flicker                                      and disappear   (inevitably invariable           inevitable invariability)) we        stand in a waterfall of gravel    and drown our voices in the choke of our cellophane hearts caked              into fillets of aphasic tundra   where we whisper our nothings in the desert on the boundary of silence our words                          escape us            like rats from shipwreck                                       we are                        disembowelled catharsis                            intentional and fatuous                                    retching upon itself        severed and free        and dead
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Untitled
i am lost in the wisp of your faltering the fluttering of concrete entrenched into stoic rigmarole to reach out layer by layer peeling unearthing a catatonic subdivision of disjoint subdivisions a limit ordinal between touch and feeling where we kiss on the cusp of that silent ocean on the edge of sound drowned in the nebulous familiarity of a distant melody a tired resolve re  solve the old puzzle  muscle memory's misted amnesia half the pieces falling out the warn tinderbox inarticulate drowned severed isomorphisms over brea(d)thless infinities self adjoint matted topologies nestled snugly in the amniotic absolution of form before being       hands of matted ice contorted into perfection by the sculpting propensities   of undulations of estrangement, where we touch in the cusp of self reflections thousand mirrors inverted propensities                         infinite infinitesimals   nestled meromorphic partitions hidden corners in the brevity of dusk multiplicities fragmenting behind empty veils (  to be seen is to be made discrete    to be discrete is to flicker                                      and disappear   (inevitably invariable           inevitable invariability)) we        stand in a waterfall of gravel    and drown our voices in the choke of our cellophane hearts caked              into fillets of aphasic tundra   where we whisper our nothings in the desert on the boundary of silence our words                          escape us            like rats from shipwreck                                       we are                        disembowelled catharsis                            intentional and fatuous                                    retching upon itself        severed and free        and dead
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49
I’m the sickness, the grotesque singularity that envelopes and gropes that sick nectar. The sickly substance drains so subtle upon the cut edge of lips and the pillar draw strings stitched and bound between cardiac flesh. I’ll cleave, cut and seethe, suckle upon the sin I glower as I twine and tug at those piano puppet strings caught in twain with every heart beat, just trigger happy nerves spackled in misunderstood concept called love and impulse. Pluck the collar cuff at your guttural sing and sentence, those ballots fluttering from between pearl teeth, I’m stealing those breathing gasps and loving longings; they’re all just flecks and fragments of lackluster human baggage, just mannequins treading sluggish, fractured splinter frame and hinge fickle. I’m the socio experiment, the fiendish distaste of a chimera, the zealous of corrupted cold hearted, faux feeling skin wearing thing. Just a copulation of electrical splatter and liquid tissue, inorganic animal, snapping jaw and glass shard fangs. I’ll rile and reeve between the click and snap of your heart beat, coddle the smoke of prey’s scent, I’ll parasite the life blood that courses and holds beneath your emotional connect. My cancer’s a slaughter fed consolation, ever feasting malignant circumstance, it rallies a thousand eyes, irises blood thick, fragments my moral conscience with teeth riddled limbs, claws that chew and tear. A multi-armed fiend, segmented soulless and black tainted blood lost long ago, all that remains ***** is the tissue wearing skeleton I claim domain, fragmenting the soul into steel shards, all’s just razor edge mechanical once the human feel falls to ash amongst the clutter of bone. You’ll find the soulless circuit board in the gulf of your cancerous conscience, as the human corrupts to cancer
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
The Thousand Mouths of the Once Human
I’m the sickness, the grotesque singularity that envelopes and gropes that sick nectar. The sickly substance drains so subtle upon the cut edge of lips and the pillar draw strings stitched and bound between cardiac flesh. I’ll cleave, cut and seethe, suckle upon the sin I glower as I twine and tug at those piano puppet strings caught in twain with every heart beat, just trigger happy nerves spackled in misunderstood concept called love and impulse. Pluck the collar cuff at your guttural sing and sentence, those ballots fluttering from between pearl teeth, I’m stealing those breathing gasps and loving longings; they’re all just flecks and fragments of lackluster human baggage, just mannequins treading sluggish, fractured splinter frame and hinge fickle. I’m the socio experiment, the fiendish distaste of a chimera, the zealous of corrupted cold hearted, faux feeling skin wearing thing. Just a copulation of electrical splatter and liquid tissue, inorganic animal, snapping jaw and glass shard fangs. I’ll rile and reeve between the click and snap of your heart beat, coddle the smoke of prey’s scent, I’ll parasite the life blood that courses and holds beneath your emotional connect. My cancer’s a slaughter fed consolation, ever feasting malignant circumstance, it rallies a thousand eyes, irises blood thick, fragments my moral conscience with teeth riddled limbs, claws that chew and tear. A multi-armed fiend, segmented soulless and black tainted blood lost long ago, all that remains ***** is the tissue wearing skeleton I claim domain, fragmenting the soul into steel shards, all’s just razor edge mechanical once the human feel falls to ash amongst the clutter of bone. You’ll find the soulless circuit board in the gulf of your cancerous conscience, as the human corrupts to cancer
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38
I could not believe my luck To finally find a friend. We could have taken on the world together, I never wanted it to end. Something had to come along and change it. I know where we went wrong. We both wanted to be in the same band, But we both wrote differents songs. We broke apart like clashing comets Falling from out of the sky. I guess inside I always knew That I could never be your guy. It wasn't that I lacked self-confidence. It was not even that I felt shame. We understood what the other meant. But, the thing we wanted was the same. I would have bet my heart on you. But I could never live a lie. For a while there, life was a party, How the time flew by! You drifted back into my world, I was drifting far from mind. About the time I was fragmenting, Saturn was about to unwind. Like a stone, I catapulted into the world. I ricocheted liked a silver ball. I was making up for lost time. I would rise, then I would fall. The colors melded hotly As I did crash and burn. The cynicism came with ease, With every lesson I did learn. I settled into my routine. I cooled as I slowed down. I looked you up to say hello, And I miss having you around. I cannot believe my luck. That you still are my friend. Sing your songs and tell me stories, Like you did way back when.
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
Believe My Luck
Your hands stole the starlight To paint my body In vivid hues of heaven Unrestrained rapture Soars like a firework Exploding out into darkness Bombarding colours Fragmenting sensation Cool night air Delicately wanders Fanning my flaming skin Stroking my fascination The heady scent of desire Infusing earthly compulsion Thrusting towards celestial pleasures In an effort to enter nirvana Soft folds seek firm flesh Ripening under your touch Ready to burst with sweet ambrosia Flowing through your fingers Demanding in quest Your skyrocket Burns through my atmosphere Leaving trails of stardust that Quiver along my body As you cradle me in hushed epilogue And I descend ..... Back to a garden Bathed in moonlight (C) Pixievic
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May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
Moongarden
Groggy, awoken by a harsh tone unsympathetic to the delicate state in which my mind remains half clutching, memorizing the calm A fragile existence built to long upon lust and desires buried so far below natural thought unnaturally woven into undetermined projections The eyes and smile and picture of you so familliar then The electricity pulsating through touch the lyrics sung on the tip of my tongue caressed carefully by consciousness hidden by greed of selfishness that you are mine I am yours But artificial yellows dank and austere swell before me which pale in comparison to golden hues of fog employed to haunt and taunt the waking memory fragmenting a joyful slumber into only a few definable visions where you remain
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
Awoken
Wondering around formless and free, compelling curiosity to find out what could be? Constructing alpha, omega labyrinth was seen to be good Entering the construct, what great fun to be had Moving around each twist, corner and turn, celestial navigation was learned Dispersing, fragmenting, self awareness was lost, leaving clues at each twist, corner and turn.
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:36 AM UTC
Labyrinth World.
From the very beginning you’ve had thunder in your mind and lightning in your heart-you struck with no warning, Beautiful and awesome and all-consuming. You stirred up pain like a hurricane, Short circuiting logic and reason with beauty and fire. Forest fires often raced through your veins- Although one could argue for arson, Boys starting gasoline- soaked infernos that burned bright and died, Leaving blackened roots behind. You took the whole world in stride, Stepping like landslides the earth moved beneath you; You left victims in your wake, Shaken and changed by the shape of your feet. You felt changes like earthquakes. Buildings shattered with your realizations, The glass fragmenting into opinions ideas connections that left you shaken. Your anger erupted like volcanoes- Emotions bubbling under the surface until they blew sky high, Magma, hot and molten that spat up and consumed everything in its path. Depression hit you like a tsunami. A monumental wave that roared up And crashed over everything and everyone that ever loved you. Then there was drought, All the distractions died out and your cracks beginning to show, Widening as you lose yourself in the ebb and flow of compassion. And your future is as uncertain as a tornado. It’s up in the air and we don’t know where it’s going to touch down; Which house it’s going to rip apart next.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
You are a Natural Disaster.
I saw you in the mirror today. I washed away your sleep and saw your eyes opening with the light of day. I touched the sorrow in your cheekbones and felt the blood in your brow. What the hell happened last night? Your eyes- for once, I can’t read them. Can I see what you have seen? I reach out and,ouch, all I feel is your hurt… No, no, don’t look away, don’t look away, chin up- I’m sending you my love. Remember the summer? Remember the rain and the tickle, prickle, vivid, candid sensation? Remember your first kiss? And how he missed? No, no, return to the sunny day. Yes, I feel the split skin now, too. It’s a web of truths I don’t understand. I see the darkness. Come on, snap to- I’m losing you, I’m losing you I’m losing who you are come on show me who you are WAKE UP Yes, yes, when I close my eyes, I can’t believe the sight. I don’t know how to calculate the escape velocity from Earth’s orbit- I fall asleep in astronomy, too. Your eyes are pools of passion and I see them fragmenting. You aren’t allowed to curl up and die, remember? Not when friends still visit and mothers still call and strangers still say hello and I LOVE YOU still exists even if it sometimes feels like an alternate universe and yeah life ***** and waking up and being the one in pain hurts but you are a butterfly Beautiful, agile, free- Flight, yeah, it exists! Look, I’m wiping away your tears, Remember that there is no true fear. Dawn still comes. Dawn still comes. And I love you.
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Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 8:20 PM UTC
To Myself in a Mirror
I saw you in the mirror today. I washed away your sleep and saw your eyes opening with the light of day. I touched the sorrow in your cheekbones and felt the blood in your brow. What the hell happened last night? Your eyes- for once, I can’t read them. Can I see what you have seen? I reach out and,ouch, all I feel is your hurt… No, no, don’t look away, don’t look away, chin up- I’m sending you my love. Remember the summer? Remember the rain and the tickle, prickle, vivid, candid sensation? Remember your first kiss? And how he missed? No, no, return to the sunny day. Yes, I feel the split skin now, too. It’s a web of truths I don’t understand. I see the darkness. Come on, snap to- I’m losing you, I’m losing you I’m losing who you are come on show me who you are WAKE UP Yes, yes, when I close my eyes, I can’t believe the sight. I don’t know how to calculate the escape velocity from Earth’s orbit- I fall asleep in astronomy, too. Your eyes are pools of passion and I see them fragmenting. You aren’t allowed to curl up and die, remember? Not when friends still visit and mothers still call and strangers still say hello and I LOVE YOU still exists even if it sometimes feels like an alternate universe and yeah life ***** and waking up and being the one in pain hurts but you are a butterfly Beautiful, agile, free- Flight, yeah, it exists! Look, I’m wiping away your tears, Remember that there is no true fear. Dawn still comes. Dawn still comes. And I love you.
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33
A sad stopwatch in silence, regrets fragmenting time, nonexistent, unstoppable.
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Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 1:03 PM UTC
Illusion Caged (10 words)
we carry scars and marks imperfections of pigment warped bones and fragmenting knees we feel the weather in our old injuries if you play you inevitably bleed
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Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 8:25 AM UTC
signs of life
A single touch Would break My back and soul. A touch to unload All the burdens These worn joints Have been bearing. Such a touch Would cause my heart To crumble. Strong as an ox, A horse, a water buffalo. Fit as a fiddle, A lute, a viola da gamba. Happy as a clam, A mussel, an Arctic quahog. If only they knew That a single touch Would be my undoing, Unraveling, Fragmenting-- The one thing That could make me Breakdown. If you knew... Would your hand reach out With all the care you could muster To grasp my shoulder in support? Would your arms invite My head to lay across your breast That I might cry out, alone no longer? If you knew me, Would you supply the touch My soul desires?
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
Question #5
Have you ever seen someone crumple? I have, And I was one half of the cause. She’d taken a bullet But didn’t yet know it. She wasn’t angry As she looked from me to him and back again Waiting for one of us to explain What couldn’t be explained. She wasn’t angry, she was imploding Chipped glass about to shatter Fragmenting shards. Atoms swirled in chaos, She stood alone, in a tornado Still and silent Not realising the oxygen had all but gone. Time stood still for us all And as she realised, She started to crumple and turned and fled Too proud to disintegrate In front of those who fired the gun.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 4:34 AM UTC
As She Crumpled
A hollow point bullet , fired , rifled through barrel , targeting steel resolve , fragmenting , striking ten combatants with one fatal shot ! A wood canoe with confident oarsman , fighting thirty foot ocean swells , hurricane winds and storm surge ! Swan dive over Horseshoe Falls , disappearing within the rocks , returned to the surface laughing , emboldened and unharmed ! Pressure cooker explosives , detonated beside large crowds with zero injuries , homicidal schizophrenic empties his magazine in a theater with no casualties ! Random killing in the name of religion with just cause , fundamental rationality ! Convincing people to try compassion , tolerance and moderation ! Forgetful , carefree , unharmed , thankful citizens impinged , ***** by the three percent , courtesy of Wall Street !
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Zero Chance
A tempest rages, Within my mind, Thoughts screaming, striking as thunder, as shards of ice fragmenting upon impact, Leaving cold, leaving. I am struck, shocked by the sudden realisation that I am not who I was. A current of electricity coursing through my brain, A current I swim against with no hope of winning out, my strength is waning, I have no resolve. My nerves are a deer caught in headlights, I am nervous. I am self-destroying, I am at war with myself. I am a man without eyes, seeing things that aren't there, seeing things. I am conflicted, confused, corroding in the early hours of morning, The sun comes up but the days are dark. Rotting wood, rotting mind, Veins staining skin, like forks of lightning beneath the flesh. I am withering, Wasting, I am waste, Don't waste ammo on the dead. Lines etched in bodies, Like seams in fabric, Like the ******* on my kitchen bench. Addictions crying to be satisfied, To be sated, Nose decorated in white, All I know is night. Mountains in eyes, too high to conquer, An uphill battle, Failure, another pill, Another regret. And another.
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
The Prisoner of Consciousness
We watch the waves crest and tumble, playing, fragmenting quickly into jigsaw puzzles, bubbles dancing on our fingertips, outstretched as the sun soaks through our skin so deep we're replaced by solid light, and the corners of our mouths soar up above the seagulls, and the swells in the distance shimmer like night-time's looking glass, predicting the movements of the stars, and there's something about the easy breath of the sea, the energy and rhythm, that makes us feel like running unbound, and when we return with tousled locks of sun-dried hair, our skin sticky sweet, saturated with layers of salt, our socks made of sand grains that tickle our toes, pockets full of sea-stones and oyster homes and smooth glass, bottle green, the color of daydreams and kelp, we know, despite miles of asphalt and cumulus clouds, despite time-tolled memory, that our ocean never leaves.
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May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
The Coast
i am shattering like glass as everything around me slips away reality fragmenting, i reach to grab shards sharp enough to slit my own wrists i return to tendencies of self destruction like returning to an abusive ex because even when things are bad there is comfort in the familiarity pain. — dis(comfort)
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Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 10:57 PM UTC
i am shattering like glass
unendurable, long and exhausting are the pains presumptuous like appeals from a jaded pulpit such as they are, are powerless a passage from a discarded tract such are these pernicious pains that swarm in a slivering hiss upon dark and lurking shadows aesthetically applauding themselves as they push here and there in their wounding commentary of painful narrative agonising enough to reduce the soul to debilitating bouts of disagreeably damaging experience with startling exaggerations that produce disgraceful extortions upon mind and body squandering unbearable isolations fragmenting the cracks in a delicate structure of personality uprooting it from a sanctified paradise providing instead a monstrous, shameful loathing that makes one choose to become another other than those unthinking other than this misery of anguish other than this pain deliberately to provoke an anger the other with ingratiating timidity or rebellious defiance favours a rejection of all resentful obligations all that is distasteful all that is not worth carrying out such as with a contempt that allows one to escape into an emptiness of the ridiculous and the impossible through thoughts to an absurdity of beliefs through the deserted streets the neighbourhoods of the lie pass the filthy inadequacies of obscene caresses where one is mocked by exquisitely satisfying ****** of vicious pains pains that control behaviour freedom of movement time and space who appear at the corners of the mouth where lurk sarcastic secrets now I know in these horrors and torments that time has stopped in all dimensions eternity has ceased
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
My Delirium
unendurable, long and exhausting are the pains presumptuous like appeals from a jaded pulpit such as they are, are powerless a passage from a discarded tract such are these pernicious pains that swarm in a slivering hiss upon dark and lurking shadows aesthetically applauding themselves as they push here and there in their wounding commentary of painful narrative agonising enough to reduce the soul to debilitating bouts of disagreeably damaging experience with startling exaggerations that produce disgraceful extortions upon mind and body squandering unbearable isolations fragmenting the cracks in a delicate structure of personality uprooting it from a sanctified paradise providing instead a monstrous, shameful loathing that makes one choose to become another other than those unthinking other than this misery of anguish other than this pain deliberately to provoke an anger the other with ingratiating timidity or rebellious defiance favours a rejection of all resentful obligations all that is distasteful all that is not worth carrying out such as with a contempt that allows one to escape into an emptiness of the ridiculous and the impossible through thoughts to an absurdity of beliefs through the deserted streets the neighbourhoods of the lie pass the filthy inadequacies of obscene caresses where one is mocked by exquisitely satisfying ****** of vicious pains pains that control behaviour freedom of movement time and space who appear at the corners of the mouth where lurk sarcastic secrets now I know in these horrors and torments that time has stopped in all dimensions eternity has ceased
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54
unendurable, long and exhausting are the pains presumptuous in their plenty such are these pernicious pains that swarm in a slivering hiss upon dark and lurking shadows aesthetically applauding themselves as they push here and there in their wounding commentary of painful narrative agonising enough to reduce the soul to debilitating bouts of disagreeably damaging experience with startling exaggerations that produce disgraceful extortions upon mind and body squandering unbearable isolations fragmenting the cracks in a delicate structure of personality uprooting it from a sanctified paradise providing instead a monstrous, shameful loathing that makes one choose to become another other than those unthinking other than this misery of anguish other than this pain deliberately to provoke an anger the other with ingratiating timidity or rebellious defiance favouring a rejection of all resentful obligations all that is distasteful all that is not worth carrying out such as with a contempt that allows one to escape into an emptiness of the ridiculous and the impossible through thoughts to an absurdity of beliefs through the deserted streets the neighbourhoods of the lie pass the filthy inadequacies of obscene caresses where one is mocked by exquisitely satisfying ****** of vicious pains pains that control behaviour freedom of movement time and space who appear at corners of the mouth where lurk sarcastic secrets now I know in these horrors and torments that time has stopped in all dimensions eternity has ceased
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
Pains
unendurable, long and exhausting are the pains presumptuous in their plenty such are these pernicious pains that swarm in a slivering hiss upon dark and lurking shadows aesthetically applauding themselves as they push here and there in their wounding commentary of painful narrative agonising enough to reduce the soul to debilitating bouts of disagreeably damaging experience with startling exaggerations that produce disgraceful extortions upon mind and body squandering unbearable isolations fragmenting the cracks in a delicate structure of personality uprooting it from a sanctified paradise providing instead a monstrous, shameful loathing that makes one choose to become another other than those unthinking other than this misery of anguish other than this pain deliberately to provoke an anger the other with ingratiating timidity or rebellious defiance favouring a rejection of all resentful obligations all that is distasteful all that is not worth carrying out such as with a contempt that allows one to escape into an emptiness of the ridiculous and the impossible through thoughts to an absurdity of beliefs through the deserted streets the neighbourhoods of the lie pass the filthy inadequacies of obscene caresses where one is mocked by exquisitely satisfying ****** of vicious pains pains that control behaviour freedom of movement time and space who appear at corners of the mouth where lurk sarcastic secrets now I know in these horrors and torments that time has stopped in all dimensions eternity has ceased
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Sometimes I make myself angry at you. Hurt That you aren't around. Not because I enjoy being angry and hurt, Not because you deserve it, Not because anything at all has gone wrong, But simply because Missing you as much as I miss you on some nights [most nights] Has no reason, No cause, No cure, No trigger or relief. And if I'm going to feel it My mind wants something to blame. It is too much, Too much love, To simply miss you And feel the exquisitely fragmenting pain of that. It is much easier to handle feeling something I've felt before, Something that can be fought, Something that can be dealt with, Something that has a start, And hence, An end. My hurt, my anger...all of it... Even my fear is a lie. Because the truth is Missing you Has no end, No edge, No closure, No border. No creation And no ultimatum. If I bog myself down in petty fear and pain and enmity If I fog up my mind and heart with those silly distractions The love Cannot leak through and terrify me With its immeasurable, ceaseless enormity. If I just stay on the surface, I can't drown in what is really happening: My love deepens by the second, And I am at sea With no land in sight. I miss you with my skin and the marrow of my bones, With my fingertips and in my veins. I miss you more every moment. It's been increasing since the day you left. When you came back, It only picked up. I miss you in a way that absolutely stuns me with fear And with awe. I am not ready to be the vessel for that kind of feeling That kind of love. And so sometimes, when you're not around and I wish you were, I make myself angry with you, Hurt, Afraid to lose you. I engineer insecurities in my head. Because the sheer truth of knowing that you love me And missing you this much anyway Is too immense And too agonizing To face.
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 12:07 AM UTC
Adrift
Sometimes I make myself angry at you. Hurt That you aren't around. Not because I enjoy being angry and hurt, Not because you deserve it, Not because anything at all has gone wrong, But simply because Missing you as much as I miss you on some nights [most nights] Has no reason, No cause, No cure, No trigger or relief. And if I'm going to feel it My mind wants something to blame. It is too much, Too much love, To simply miss you And feel the exquisitely fragmenting pain of that. It is much easier to handle feeling something I've felt before, Something that can be fought, Something that can be dealt with, Something that has a start, And hence, An end. My hurt, my anger...all of it... Even my fear is a lie. Because the truth is Missing you Has no end, No edge, No closure, No border. No creation And no ultimatum. If I bog myself down in petty fear and pain and enmity If I fog up my mind and heart with those silly distractions The love Cannot leak through and terrify me With its immeasurable, ceaseless enormity. If I just stay on the surface, I can't drown in what is really happening: My love deepens by the second, And I am at sea With no land in sight. I miss you with my skin and the marrow of my bones, With my fingertips and in my veins. I miss you more every moment. It's been increasing since the day you left. When you came back, It only picked up. I miss you in a way that absolutely stuns me with fear And with awe. I am not ready to be the vessel for that kind of feeling That kind of love. And so sometimes, when you're not around and I wish you were, I make myself angry with you, Hurt, Afraid to lose you. I engineer insecurities in my head. Because the sheer truth of knowing that you love me And missing you this much anyway Is too immense And too agonizing To face.
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