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"glitched" poems
Framed so poetically, there it stays Never steps out of its flimsy boundary line but it takes in everything with him Inside a a static sea frame, there roam all the wild guesses you took: all blue all trapped, as erratic and diminishing as it was named. Was you were to throw that time when you tried to take to the sea all into it? There is no need to make me open my eyes to see something as obvious as this for a even a blind man can see it so crystal clear in his pitch black vision I'm closing my eyes and hope it stops but    ***I remember waking up    somewhere in midnight term    drowning in salty seas    and making bitter coffee to    recede the former taste.    I found your diary on the sea    shore with all of the demerara    sugar sand    disconnecting wires in my mind    with overflowing water in the    bathtub    and getting electrocuted.    Alarms when off buzzing with    tick tocks    I found myself with    a pacemaker also    your dying digital clock you had    since forever, displaying    blurs of phobia*** Am I wrong to be trying to breath underwater Would it be right to despise the blue sea that should soothes us that turned grey for all our fears we threw in without hesitate I put all of my fears into this sea, as a glitched version of your deceiving eye hue, demerara sugar on the edge of your lips lingering in my coffee chronomentrophobia oh thalassophobia, yet I was to choose between icy cold ocean air and falling into clocks' icicle-like hands. This is much of an error as it is a tsunami washing us with a tide of heartache like over sugared coffee with still bitter taste that melted into my inner cheeks when I had ulcers and you wearing wristwatch while holding my hands.
0
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC
Chronomentrophobia / Thalassophobia
Framed so poetically, there it stays Never steps out of its flimsy boundary line but it takes in everything with him Inside a a static sea frame, there roam all the wild guesses you took: all blue all trapped, as erratic and diminishing as it was named. Was you were to throw that time when you tried to take to the sea all into it? There is no need to make me open my eyes to see something as obvious as this for a even a blind man can see it so crystal clear in his pitch black vision I'm closing my eyes and hope it stops but    ***I remember waking up    somewhere in midnight term    drowning in salty seas    and making bitter coffee to    recede the former taste.    I found your diary on the sea    shore with all of the demerara    sugar sand    disconnecting wires in my mind    with overflowing water in the    bathtub    and getting electrocuted.    Alarms when off buzzing with    tick tocks    I found myself with    a pacemaker also    your dying digital clock you had    since forever, displaying    blurs of phobia*** Am I wrong to be trying to breath underwater Would it be right to despise the blue sea that should soothes us that turned grey for all our fears we threw in without hesitate I put all of my fears into this sea, as a glitched version of your deceiving eye hue, demerara sugar on the edge of your lips lingering in my coffee chronomentrophobia oh thalassophobia, yet I was to choose between icy cold ocean air and falling into clocks' icicle-like hands. This is much of an error as it is a tsunami washing us with a tide of heartache like over sugared coffee with still bitter taste that melted into my inner cheeks when I had ulcers and you wearing wristwatch while holding my hands.
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55
I've seen criminals act heroic, Heroes walk as thieves, Humans must be at a steady downfall Because all I see are leaves Tarzan stood half monkey, half man Until he let all those apes escape Now he's running with Specter in this primate land. I play mario in a tanooki suit, as a statue would stand Sure he could take on a world of weight, But I still miss the days he wore a cape. See because you only get one master ball to capture, Still unable to catch a politician who isn't a lying ******* I am backed by deep words quoted by Mewtwo Even in minds they create from scratch, they won't believe you. The heartless can swallow your heart whole Leaving your shell cold, walking as a nobody Created as a somebody glitched through the system like Xion When no one remembers your soul what planet would you be on Fighting for a right like Seifer  versus Leon. I am looking at a world frozen like Shiva's diamond dust With Eve pumping through my veins, Getting stronger, selling all the Adam in my clutch. You will never find me, how I look no one knows I'm a master of disguise with a Poppit full of clothes I'm storing all that I know in my roots Collecting memories like wumpa  and paopu fruits Stealing loot from crooks like Captain Hook As time tick-tocks, in time we are all late So follow the white rabbit, this red pill won't wait.
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
Nerdy Poetry
every monster finds it way to my paintbrush. and paints itself and its story. monsters write themselves in blue ink, idling aphotic shadows, luring near floors, unable to view themselves as nothing more than weak mindless creatures who yearn to be seen as beautiful and not fearful creatures that hide in dark spaces. They want to be drawn and written about, painted and noted. They want to know if they have some place in the world that fears them. the voices are faded distorted whispers, glitched between my thoughts and the floorboards they will not let me sleep until they have their stories told.
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Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
monsters
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled, Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle. I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo, While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño. Wading the nightscape  with a glitched simper, I could not change nor attempt to tinker, Just breaching the moments passing to linger. Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black, Then for a few seconds the world collapsed. A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back. Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts. And now, The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance, And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence. I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives, And anything I might say could only lack eloquence. Then magnanimous mantras attract exact, It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match. There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress, Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death. Particles of my brain erupt, I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch. Every pose palatial down to the pixels, I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals. Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes, Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes. There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee, I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy. Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic, My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic. Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings, Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
Beautiful Creature
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled, Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle. I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo, While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño. Wading the nightscape  with a glitched simper, I could not change nor attempt to tinker, Just breaching the moments passing to linger. Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black, Then for a few seconds the world collapsed. A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back. Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts. And now, The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance, And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence. I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives, And anything I might say could only lack eloquence. Then magnanimous mantras attract exact, It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match. There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress, Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death. Particles of my brain erupt, I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch. Every pose palatial down to the pixels, I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals. Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes, Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes. There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee, I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy. Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic, My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic. Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings, Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
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32
Had such a busy week so exhausted I could barely speak Needed to get up early on Friday for an important appointment much to my disappointment my alarm glitched maybe even caused by a power outage Instead of making it to the appointment I was dreaming about it while asleep in my bed. Perhaps maybe I needed the rest really bad and that is why I overslept. It might be my body's way of saying that I needed to slow down a bit.
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
Overslept
i am becoming strange who is stranger me or the girl i dont know sitting next to me on the bus my hands shake as i try to remember your telephone number at the corner payphone i keep on glitching itching and twitching and i miss-dial your number and my quarter is wasted i slept with a stranger girl than i remember but not how you think it was that she fell down in the middle of the party and the glitching and twitching reminded me of you so i carried her and put her in my spare bedroom and that was it when she left i went back to the payphone to tell you about it my my hands were still shaking and i miss-dialed your number but it went to your mother who explained to me again why you can't pick up she said you slept in a nice box downtown after you got too drunk and your bike hit a truck i said that i remember how you glitched and twitched how you were hospitalized for a week or two and then when you got out you forgot to call me she told me that you cant call anymore because you sleep in a nice box downtown with your grandma and uncle after she hung up i went to talk to you in this nice box downtown but before i got there i got too drunk and my bike hit a truck and now i can see you in your nice box downtown but you still dont return my calls
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
gliTCH_10110//tWitch
Back when I was glitched, you found me broken and you stitched me back up, now I'm more than full of love.
0
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
Stitched up
Grievous I hold you as the chameleon with his spring-trigger bone Holds his tongue And I will catch you as a fist I will lick the stench from your odor sacks as a skunk All those creepy little fragments bugs in the system;glitched codes they are shackled souls in a microsecond arc-length of the universal Prodding the dirt and the worms as stars How about all the spice trees? The many different species of food glitter they make the buds sparkle, they are thinking of the taste of umami, of sour, of patchwork gaze the cooked vestibules of bone the marrow, seeping into the stew The pepper trees are smoked equinoctial bonfires You and I are yet to be cooked through A taxi in the trader joes parking lot Big repetitive 7's splattered across its paneling I won't forget when i'm drunk or inebriated somehow The tree in the center of town is lit up with LEDs Branches curling like worms You are Pharos, you are the great celestial beam you are the crescent moon, thin as a sleeve and the hot taste of batter on your breath the way you let my Guinness cool off next to the space-heater and give me yogurt from the local townsfolk Everything is creamy, you said. But i don't like to hear that It's a steel rod into my brain, that. I am a simple Vishnu Hare Brahma I do not have any purpose but to be enlightened and worshiped for my powerful odors and a four-chambered bowel that makes the turn easier for worms. 2 Pitiful You are the hopeless pod the many wildebeest, crossing their annuals through twirling water-crocs, Lion Prides Leopards shifting within the brush Bacterial infections from ***** tusks Strange metal boxes No 7's on this side I want to blow the ******* skulls off of anything that aims for you, sweet mare 45-70 Will literally send chunks of it into orbit Lion or Turtle or window or Children The most godly thing is a bullet And the streams of blood that will seed a new ravine and seep the next feed of riverrun Will you be mine, then?
0
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 4:39 AM UTC
Sub-Sahara
Grievous I hold you as the chameleon with his spring-trigger bone Holds his tongue And I will catch you as a fist I will lick the stench from your odor sacks as a skunk All those creepy little fragments bugs in the system;glitched codes they are shackled souls in a microsecond arc-length of the universal Prodding the dirt and the worms as stars How about all the spice trees? The many different species of food glitter they make the buds sparkle, they are thinking of the taste of umami, of sour, of patchwork gaze the cooked vestibules of bone the marrow, seeping into the stew The pepper trees are smoked equinoctial bonfires You and I are yet to be cooked through A taxi in the trader joes parking lot Big repetitive 7's splattered across its paneling I won't forget when i'm drunk or inebriated somehow The tree in the center of town is lit up with LEDs Branches curling like worms You are Pharos, you are the great celestial beam you are the crescent moon, thin as a sleeve and the hot taste of batter on your breath the way you let my Guinness cool off next to the space-heater and give me yogurt from the local townsfolk Everything is creamy, you said. But i don't like to hear that It's a steel rod into my brain, that. I am a simple Vishnu Hare Brahma I do not have any purpose but to be enlightened and worshiped for my powerful odors and a four-chambered bowel that makes the turn easier for worms. 2 Pitiful You are the hopeless pod the many wildebeest, crossing their annuals through twirling water-crocs, Lion Prides Leopards shifting within the brush Bacterial infections from ***** tusks Strange metal boxes No 7's on this side I want to blow the ******* skulls off of anything that aims for you, sweet mare 45-70 Will literally send chunks of it into orbit Lion or Turtle or window or Children The most godly thing is a bullet And the streams of blood that will seed a new ravine and seep the next feed of riverrun Will you be mine, then?
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59
The house alarm threw a fit, Loud sound night red upset! If she hadn't made it home after I glitched, the alarm would still breath wail live. But she pressed numerous soft keys, like seven red green backspace deletes. I couldn't remember the code, I hug you, you scold, you get down and say cold, Listen Good Cole; This is mine, not your home.
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
Staying with my Sister
I wish to fire All planets I can reach, Do even stars can tell what happens, When universe is glitched? Is matter fading? Like me - fade in the dusts, Seems like I've lost my spotless mind In self-destruction rust. My eyes are staring, The silver rain shall pass, The darker skies will open all its beauty - This vision shall be last. World is on fire - I'm watching oceans burn, The darker skies once radiant, Mountains collapsed in storm. And now I'm dying - My scared mind's only thought, But when I'm staring up at heavens, I see - the thuth is far beyond. Beyond bright starlight, And cosmic coldest lights away, If i could look behind the blinding suns, I'd clearly see its cruel sway. (inspired by OTWATM and Midnight Odyssey)
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 4:19 AM UTC
Darker skies once radiant
A day long been forgotten was the day our paths had crossed. Back then, I was made of brittle bones and smoke-filled lungs – a parasitic host. And you were a scratched mixtape, glitched beyond repair – a spectre of menace. We became a tragic misadventure - a meteor crash, a numbing hailstorm, a catastrophic shipwreck. Safe, it was no longer. I felt the ground crumble when you left. Our story had no rhythmic patterns or ballad structures, just a simply-written prose. If only we had met today, I, a blossoming daffodil in spring and you, a picturesque landscape But fate vehemently opposed. Who else to blame for our love’s brevity But time, the relentless enemy.
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Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 6:35 AM UTC
Time is our enemy
My shape is a puzzle of shattered light, From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks. I've floated in crystalline tears through nights, That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks. Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution, My dreams became ether suspended in place. Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion, Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace. But my system of nerves, interstellar threads, Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire. They reshape the grid of my own waking dread. I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired. My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned. The flux of euphoria then glitched the code. Chased every god who tread through my mind. As my belief in them began to implode. I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve, Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache. My being, potentialized, now unobserved. As moments of reality shown to me, faked. With every tremor that left a deep scar, Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic. I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars. As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic. ♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦   "The Quantum Bound Poet "
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Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 1:07 AM UTC
High, Pathetically, Hypothetic
featherweight with more heat than light more feast, than a violence we found a clamour together drunk tank, we tackled battered at one and the other we mashed in pleasing years we dedicated fractured time manufactured sot saturated employed misfunctional us trussed ; brace pinned neat by the heels whatever be, come glitched the floor-riding fits upturned, revealing sickness now observed and prone hold hands treated far apart separate medical cots in damage we bed
0
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 9:09 PM UTC
treated
It was at the party where we first met. I wasn't feeling it, but you did. Thank goodness, you threw your number down. I didn't mean to call you; my phone glitched. But I don't regret it. Chorus: Now we're sitting in the bay drinking away our sun days, Seeing the boats rocking in the sea. The band plays a song about falling in love, But I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking this is the best vacation I've ever had _______ Now you're climbing up on me like a puppy saying I'm the cutest girl, Saying you will miss my kiss, and you wouldn't trade our time for the world. It's a shame I live far away, and we can't continue this, My hotel key needs to be returned to the lobby, and I got to go home, But I don't wanna go, Gotta enjoy what's left of your lips. Chorus Now this Sunday has turned to a Saturday and it’s a goodbye we can't withstand. I'll always have that picture of us and the memories on the sand. You in your board shorts and me dressed to **** I won't stay another night. Oh hell yes I will. Chorus
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Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
I've Ever Had
I'm I have no idea how this was seen by so many people it was legit an empty box because the website glitched lol
0
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 6:28 PM UTC
Untitled
Dear Artist/ Your art sings to me like a soft kiss/ And as the poetic words are spoken they stop to rest carefully here atop my lips/ Tasting of loneliness/ Something I understand well unfortunately from years of misery/ It regrettably makes up most of my memories/ Every moment I'd spent ready to surrender from the pain I suffered/ Often left to ponder/ Why me/ Does nobody see these scars that bleed/ Upset that so many could leave me with such ease/ Always leaving questions unanswered inside my mind/ Despite all the times I screamed out their names/ Because in the end/ I wasnt worth the compassion let alone the attention/ Feelings of depression/ Thoughts saying Im nothing/ Convinced I deserve this/ Listening to the emptiness echoing in my chest/ I've felt it all myself once before, unable to drown in the liquor anymore/ All I wanted to do was turn up the music and let the silence play through it/ So know your not alone having to deal with everything on your own/ There's always this place where people care about the pain you share/ Wanting to hear things from your joys to things you fear/ Where we love this art we all write/ An the company of another poets insight/ Just remember things get easier/ Cause its always better tomorrow I swear/ So I guess I'll end this letter and see you there/ Yours truly, Diction ****** Glitched" Diers/
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
Suicide Letter (Suicide Awareness)
Ostracization Contamination Through my deflation I find devastation On the devil’s station Of severed relations My misfit ****** Sin bit Prison stint Reminisced Of my bliss Without a kiss So I eat a dish Of a returning wish But I’m a burning witch Who’s yearning to switch From learning I’m glitched I received A receipt Of deceit By elite Petite Feet That stepped on My weapon Of inspection Due to detections Defused by erections The jaded Invaded And waited To be hated So I’d be baited And mentalities traded Pickaxe Sick facts Impact My tact As I react To the flak I use to attack Coming back On my track Turning black How do I deal with their negativity? Is it really just a matter of relativity? Must I have my relatives killing me Before the hatred filling me Is justified? Why must I cry When only dust resides In my desolate insides? The heartless devastate Making me separate Into a mental state Completely innate An unseemly inmate Of the tumultuous strait Between finding a date And the bitter fate Dinner plate Sinners make This challenge leaves me petrified Possibly electrified From their pesticide That infects inside Until I elect to hide And convince myself I don’t care My mental health I won’t share I’ll just scream no fair Flailing arms in the air I will not have been spared By this devastating nightmare
0
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
Devastation
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, infinity=zero Luna betrayed the Lady & the scene glitched a definite into maybe Luna betrayed the Lady & my fourth hour seemed a little bit too hazy                                                                             ------ravenfeels
0
Sep 19, 2022
Sep 19, 2022 at 1:55 PM UTC
Luna 1523
Dear Work, I love you, I loathe you. You got my mind overloaded Thoughts of you fill my head, No room for anything else. Hacked my life and you stole it; Reprogrammed all my rules, And guessed my passcodes, too! And now I can't act the same, 'Cause, Work, you're a bug I can't shake. You're pushing my hard drive too far, All my circuits will break. Work, you are a dangerous game, You are a dangerous game, Why must do you? You are a dangerous game, Nothing can protect my brain From a sadistic virus like you! Getoutofmyhead!head!head!head!head!head!head! Getoutofmyhead!head!head!head!head!head!head! Getoutofmyhead!head!head!head!head!head!head! Getoutofmyhead!head!head!head!head!head!head! You're too much of a good thing, So good, you're bad for me; Corrupts my memory. Shocked my mainframe, yes you sting- In my mind all lines of code Are glitched up and going wrong. Sorry for acting a little bit strange, But now I must do you, whatever it takes, You're pushing my hard drive too far, All my circuits might break If I can't attend to you, I wouldn't, wouldn't attend to me either. See "Play" around you. I want to, want to, wanna just delete her Sorry for acting a little bit strange But now I must do you, whatever it takes I love you, I loathe you
0
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
A Letter to Work
my first love was young rebellion and how it made me feel. my second love was abuse. I have been asked, on more than one occasion, how I could fall in love with a man who I was scared of. my masochism was inside of me for years before I admitted to it. I like to talk about how I didn’t know that it was wrong for him to hurt me, but somewhere deep in the back of my young mind, I did know. I realize that now. I realize now that maybe I enjoyed it. maybe that was part of it, my own fantasies leaking through the cracks of my innocent, good girl persona. or maybe I truly believed that his abuse was all I deserved. my childhood had taught me that I broke everything that I touched. I came from a broken household with a broken family. I broke both of my legs at one time, and started the next school year with two bright casts. I broke toys that weren’t mine, and ceramic dishes that I threw down too hard, and the hinges of every bedroom door that I slammed shut. I broke hearts, including my own. when I fell in love, I had finally met someone with no conscience and no concept of morality. he was a sociopath, a narcissist, an abuser. he was the perfect subject for my poetry, and the perfect match to my masochism. I looked at him and wrote that he was the diagnoses that flooded the pages of some therapist’s notes. he was the embodiment of the pain that he inflicted, terrifying but somehow too attractive to resist. he was a love story jotted down by a nihilist, a black hole taking me deeper and deeper. he was a blank slate that could not be written over. he was as empty as a bottle in the hands of an alcoholic, a freshly dug grave waiting patiently for a body. I worshipped him like an absent father, idolizing his image as if I had only ever known of his appearance and normality and charm. I acted as if I had no idea that beneath the surface of his skin, he was nothing more than a living corpse. if chaos theory is as real as death, and if I was never traumatized and grew up happily, I doubt that any of this would have happened. but it did. whenever someone asks how I could fall in love with a man who I was scared of, I tell them this. I tell them that I fell in love with him because he was already missing something inside. his mind had glitched somewhere in his past, and then it failed to restart. he did not feel emotions the way that other people do. I’m not sure if he could feel anything at all. he was already broken. I fell in love with him because he was the only thing I had ever encountered that I knew I couldn’t break.
0
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 1:05 PM UTC
I fell in love with abuse
my first love was young rebellion and how it made me feel. my second love was abuse. I have been asked, on more than one occasion, how I could fall in love with a man who I was scared of. my masochism was inside of me for years before I admitted to it. I like to talk about how I didn’t know that it was wrong for him to hurt me, but somewhere deep in the back of my young mind, I did know. I realize that now. I realize now that maybe I enjoyed it. maybe that was part of it, my own fantasies leaking through the cracks of my innocent, good girl persona. or maybe I truly believed that his abuse was all I deserved. my childhood had taught me that I broke everything that I touched. I came from a broken household with a broken family. I broke both of my legs at one time, and started the next school year with two bright casts. I broke toys that weren’t mine, and ceramic dishes that I threw down too hard, and the hinges of every bedroom door that I slammed shut. I broke hearts, including my own. when I fell in love, I had finally met someone with no conscience and no concept of morality. he was a sociopath, a narcissist, an abuser. he was the perfect subject for my poetry, and the perfect match to my masochism. I looked at him and wrote that he was the diagnoses that flooded the pages of some therapist’s notes. he was the embodiment of the pain that he inflicted, terrifying but somehow too attractive to resist. he was a love story jotted down by a nihilist, a black hole taking me deeper and deeper. he was a blank slate that could not be written over. he was as empty as a bottle in the hands of an alcoholic, a freshly dug grave waiting patiently for a body. I worshipped him like an absent father, idolizing his image as if I had only ever known of his appearance and normality and charm. I acted as if I had no idea that beneath the surface of his skin, he was nothing more than a living corpse. if chaos theory is as real as death, and if I was never traumatized and grew up happily, I doubt that any of this would have happened. but it did. whenever someone asks how I could fall in love with a man who I was scared of, I tell them this. I tell them that I fell in love with him because he was already missing something inside. his mind had glitched somewhere in his past, and then it failed to restart. he did not feel emotions the way that other people do. I’m not sure if he could feel anything at all. he was already broken. I fell in love with him because he was the only thing I had ever encountered that I knew I couldn’t break.
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105
I used to choose my words with ease Picking and choosing the placement Aligning the thought’s with the paper perhaps try to think back to the pen tap? Now it’s the click of a keyboard I know im off track Im still moving backwards somehow I’ll try to reroute These letters used to glide out my mind Now they stay stitched over and over Mind glitched trying to rewire the mind of professionally trained liar Lies spoken not with malicious intent but rather in my own self defense Also insecurity of my own life path and journey For fear of my rejection i used these lies for protection For my mind is far to flexible for ones own good My malleable mind had molded like clay Then hardened once it saw the light of day And basked in the sunlight So much so it forgot how to admire nippy nights Blending truths of characters played and my own Twisting truths though i hate to admit id done that alone Thought i wasn’t always a truth teller I strive now to do better I’ve learned flexibility is useless without stability Clay compact so bound it broke Which is fine Just remember my previous line Flexibility is useless without stability Blending, bending and finally mending A mind shattered and rebuilt after ending New beginnings
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May 13, 2022
May 13, 2022 at 5:41 PM UTC
Past words passed
The air is present, but off in weight— It breathed beneath my dragging tread. Each step mistook itself for fate, My inner voice spoke, “Don't breathe, instead.” The moon, it winked, then turned to ash— Its glow, a trick. An enchanted claim. The sidewalk split like I had crashed, a static god without a name. The faces turned but couldn’t track my bent proportions, preset loops. We saw each other—witnessed lack— their auras steamed like data soup. The neighbor outside was made of code, his mumbles stitched with minor flaws. He walked a lagging, crooked load— a hologram without a cause. My name collapses if spoken twice, a sound that doesn’t mean a thing. Identity—just loaded dice thrown blind across a buffering screen. Store signs were different at second glance— one blink and “Pharmacy” was “Control.” The cars reversed their motion trance, passing through buildings they'd passed just before. The pigeons froze mid-flight like glass, then shattered the moment they caught my eye. She glitched—revealing skin’s disguise— and smiled with teeth she didn't try. My arms were pulsing with phantom blood, my ribs were cords I couldn’t play. Each thought I had was owned by flood— I feared that death would find its way. The walls were off-white, shaped oblong, they fluxed with math beneath the paint. This world’s too smooth, too clean, too long— its holiness grown dim and faint. So, I became something unglued, a breach inside the program’s lie. Not mad—just deeply over clued, I feel—I know—that nothing dies.
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Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 12:35 PM UTC
Unreality in Reality
The air is present, but off in weight— It breathed beneath my dragging tread. Each step mistook itself for fate, My inner voice spoke, “Don't breathe, instead.” The moon, it winked, then turned to ash— Its glow, a trick. An enchanted claim. The sidewalk split like I had crashed, a static god without a name. The faces turned but couldn’t track my bent proportions, preset loops. We saw each other—witnessed lack— their auras steamed like data soup. The neighbor outside was made of code, his mumbles stitched with minor flaws. He walked a lagging, crooked load— a hologram without a cause. My name collapses if spoken twice, a sound that doesn’t mean a thing. Identity—just loaded dice thrown blind across a buffering screen. Store signs were different at second glance— one blink and “Pharmacy” was “Control.” The cars reversed their motion trance, passing through buildings they'd passed just before. The pigeons froze mid-flight like glass, then shattered the moment they caught my eye. She glitched—revealing skin’s disguise— and smiled with teeth she didn't try. My arms were pulsing with phantom blood, my ribs were cords I couldn’t play. Each thought I had was owned by flood— I feared that death would find its way. The walls were off-white, shaped oblong, they fluxed with math beneath the paint. This world’s too smooth, too clean, too long— its holiness grown dim and faint. So, I became something unglued, a breach inside the program’s lie. Not mad—just deeply over clued, I feel—I know—that nothing dies.
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