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"hydrate" poems
There is a storm gathering in             my womb soon to explode into a thousand crimson stars lighting up my veins with fire and unraveling deep-set,           knotted scars and the gentle rage outside my window presses on, inside my head as I lie here, my thoughts twisted in a cozy, yet empty bed my thoughts unfurl in misty haze            curl into                       smoky                  rouge as nightsky thunder rolls into creamed saxophone                           deluge the snare drum beats in firelight ripple sheets in silky flutter as my fingers strum my womanly instruments into loamy, primal butter my voice in quiet utterance as the heavens open            to heavy rains                     that liquefy                            my desert                  hydrate my            bare-soul caves so I electrify my echoes into fruited, crystal drips frothing up my cherry wine upon these moistened, hungry lips
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Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
hydration
for the 111 yr. old young lady from Mars <•> fluids in, fluids out   wake up at midnight, lips, throat, even eyes, California Death Valley parched, white crusted-stuck together, it takes Poland Spring water from the Northeast to unlock the throat, ****** not sipped, from a plastic gourd  the chilling wetness slap to the body and brain screams metaphor, poem in there somewhere, so what if it's spat-past midnight, isn't this one of those soul-criticality's, staying hydrated, (is) disco staying alive   make sense to you? the older I get, thirstier I am, could be I'm drying/dying out from the inside out,   doctors clueless, but then again they don't reveal all they see out of poetic professional courtesy and they are tired of yeah yeah yeah, my professional courtesy answer to their  dire warnings repetitious   tonight tho the metaphor runs strong like a mountain stream, a Mt. Marcy beginning trickle growing into a mighty Hudson, and the driving urge to drink, simple replenishment, birth fluid   is strong transformed into words water is words, the water is wide, the poems hydrate what's left on the inside, and the metaphor transforms itself again water is words, words are water,   the difference huge, the difference minuscule, both pour, both refresh like a mother's body fluids, all for one, one for all, and as closing time grows nigh, staying-hydrated is primate place a new cold bottle in readiness for my 3 o'clock feeding
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC
staying-hydrated
Dear Arjana, Isis told me that you left your paradise for love in disguise  Camouflage love  Erroneous love  Inaccurate love  Artificial love  Mimic love  Man-made love  ... Substitute love ... I can't trust the "fact" that you wanna desert me only to hydrate a man who's life is so sparse with affection  Can't you tell by how devoid his life is of women?  He can't storm into your life and bring forth lush  He can't be your sunshine and make you feel tropic  He can't have you sprung and spring you out of your glacial phase  ...Smh  Bottom line Arjana babe  Is that he cannot draw the line between your north and south poles where it's typically warm when I'm around and rock your equator wild as a 200 miles per hour cyclone Lol!!! ... He just can't  And I could  So why do you even give G-Gwa-Gwala a chance?  However you say his name!  You need to come back home to your paradise  Before you end up a dystopian  Please reply =-| Sincerely Masika "Zola" Oluchi
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 4:55 AM UTC
Letter to Promise Land
I find myself in a daydream about those lips Slowly caressing every inch of my body down to my hips Leaving me in such a state that I cannot control mouth Deep moans of yes and no and baby please don’t stop I find myself surrounded in your arms, lost in your voice I’m not fighting the mood but it takes m y body by force Blessing my ears with such a tone of memorization Sending me into a ****** state of confusion That only you control and I dare not fight the hold Cause everything you are doing is like food to my soul As if I need it to continue for my own survival The thought of you stopping and leaving gives me a taste of dehydration Hogging this glass of water to the death of me, you hydrate me Close my eyes as I continue to steady my breath So much water I’m drowning in my water flow Trying desperately to keep my head above the current only to be dragged down to the bottom The water overtaking my body granting me the pleasure of feeling every desire you have Reaching out for your face to pull you close, gazing into those eyes Seeing the passion you have for me only takes us to new depths of waters Suddenly the effort to breath becomes easier as we are exchanging an never ending oxygen support Legs wrapped around you waist, squeezing to keep you near As my body is shaking with overwhelming pleasure from this sea we have created Wanting to bring you to the edge of the waterfall and watch you overflow your self Both of us deep underwater submerged in love Suddenly floating to the surface again It seems we overdosed on love, in our own sea we drowned.
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Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
Drowning in Love
I find myself in a daydream about those lips Slowly caressing every inch of my body down to my hips Leaving me in such a state that I cannot control mouth Deep moans of yes and no and baby please don’t stop I find myself surrounded in your arms, lost in your voice I’m not fighting the mood but it takes m y body by force Blessing my ears with such a tone of memorization Sending me into a ****** state of confusion That only you control and I dare not fight the hold Cause everything you are doing is like food to my soul As if I need it to continue for my own survival The thought of you stopping and leaving gives me a taste of dehydration Hogging this glass of water to the death of me, you hydrate me Close my eyes as I continue to steady my breath So much water I’m drowning in my water flow Trying desperately to keep my head above the current only to be dragged down to the bottom The water overtaking my body granting me the pleasure of feeling every desire you have Reaching out for your face to pull you close, gazing into those eyes Seeing the passion you have for me only takes us to new depths of waters Suddenly the effort to breath becomes easier as we are exchanging an never ending oxygen support Legs wrapped around you waist, squeezing to keep you near As my body is shaking with overwhelming pleasure from this sea we have created Wanting to bring you to the edge of the waterfall and watch you overflow your self Both of us deep underwater submerged in love Suddenly floating to the surface again It seems we overdosed on love, in our own sea we drowned.
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26
i’ve been on happy pills for half a year. more often than not, i feel like a buried seed, twisted and tangled in a graveyard of dreams, yearning for the light the darkness has taken from me. like a river carving through rock, i do what’s expected: show up, go to the shops, hydrate, light candles, wash my hair, bake, then exercise, get up on a stage where i pour my feelings out. i’m in recovery. i don’t drink. i’m pretty sure i’ve tried everything. yet, i feel like a canvas stripped of colour, a paintbrush, bristles frayed, dragging the last stroke of a story that i fear will end before i reach the last page.
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Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 12:50 PM UTC
this is me trying.
parched tongue please mister cola carmex these cracked lips it's time to hydrate this carbo bi- sickling through vacant streets for a cure my tummy is like this town a desiccant cactus it's 12 a.m. in stockton 12 amens spew from dry desert gums i sea liquor store icee soda this is no mirage i found atlantis at the bottom of a coke bottle peddling back home peddling peddling stop I dropped My holy grail He stops Is he thirsty? He pulls knife Like a sleeved playing card “give me your **** Poor minus poor 0-0 =0 Or X0 After he cheapshots me Fist meet face Face meet fist obliged Profit 10 cents Gym membership Fuzzy lint ***** But not my soda Or my sweat Or my tears Or my blood It’s time To hydrate
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Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
thirsty
Once there was a man called Jim, This tale is quite maudlin, So, what was wrong with Jim? He received some pets from his family, Who decided to give Jim pet therapy, So, what was wrong with that? Lucky they didn't give Jim a cat, So, why, indeed is that? Well, he had a budgie and a terrapin, New little friends for poor old Jim, Which he forgot to hydrate, He forgot until it was way too late, His terrapin turned turtle, A desiccated shade of purple, But, what about Jim's budgie? You ask, Daily feeding was supposed to be Jim's task, Poor budgie mortuus, there he lay, Jim's family came to visit one day Eventually, his daughter's jaws did part, "There's nothing colder than an ex-budgie's heart!"
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
EX-BUDGIES.....
Clouded formation of inner color control mechanism System synesthesia pulsing eyes and dull surroundings Float in gently woven tapestries that make the atmosphere Dig into a solidified and nullified enigma Decisions though no comprehension brought to life like a golem The line that I cross between focused and lost has me open Smooth and calm status accepted and enjoyed Fellow interlocutors debate and compare wisdom Rowdy and open to suggestion, I share freely Less inclined to anxious thoughts Like spiders creeping in the dark Mysterious and unfamiliar persons are simply characters As I weave a tale after my own interests Nothing to fear in a world where I am capable My guests are strewn about The ruckus scattered and cluttering Thumping walls of a thought tank desperate Hydrate-Revive-Rejuvenate Rebuild by burning like a forest fire Cycles become me sadly
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 5:33 AM UTC
37. Firewater 10/30/10
To my friends whose hearts I'm about to break, know that my left cheek will shatter first before your hearts does. I hope that's comforting enough to hear. I've always liked the angle of the right side of my face better, therefore the papers and reporters shall see just that. I hope that's relieving enough to see. To my other friends whose eyes I will be leaving swollen ugly for days on end, España's rain and floods shall hydrate you back to life. I know because I have blessed the skies with my own tears on the nights prior. Dapitan's dust and smog shall breathe air into your lungs, but not into mine. I know because I won't he here tomorrow. I hope that's alleviating enough to know. Over the last month, I have never figured out if I liked España or Dapitan better. But I suppose it's the former, for it shall have my sorry excuse of a body for the very last time. It's a bad metaphor for a feigned and forced liberty, as with this country that I lived in and loved better than the pretentious and lifeless cities I've traveled to. Singapore is but a fleeting fling. Tickles your fancy but will leave you tired and in resentment. Hong Kong is just another plaything. Everybody would tell you she's good and all that, but she lost to your tastes still. Macau is the lover that never gives but keeps on asking, she was never the safest bet nor can you lie and tell her she's the best. Johor is just as frustrating. She would be the hardest question in the test, the one you've thought of over and over but still stood miscorrect. Bangkok, I have kept her dearly in my heart but ended up forgetting still. My other lover from the farther west, but still wouldn't compare to the best. But Manila, she lives in me. She is me. It's a shame, I will never see her prosper and bloom in her waiting heydays, whenever that may be. But do I deserve to witness that? I have never done anything to help pitch in her movement. But it's a bigger, even better shame to have lived in this age of technology. Forgive me for leaving too soon, Manila. Welcome me tomorrow around high noon, España.   Forget about me like you did with your history, my beloved Philippines. To the headlines, I am diving in headfirst. To the tabloids, I beg of you to once more tickle the funny bones of a dead girl.
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Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 5:36 AM UTC
Headfirst To The Headlines
To my friends whose hearts I'm about to break, know that my left cheek will shatter first before your hearts does. I hope that's comforting enough to hear. I've always liked the angle of the right side of my face better, therefore the papers and reporters shall see just that. I hope that's relieving enough to see. To my other friends whose eyes I will be leaving swollen ugly for days on end, España's rain and floods shall hydrate you back to life. I know because I have blessed the skies with my own tears on the nights prior. Dapitan's dust and smog shall breathe air into your lungs, but not into mine. I know because I won't he here tomorrow. I hope that's alleviating enough to know. Over the last month, I have never figured out if I liked España or Dapitan better. But I suppose it's the former, for it shall have my sorry excuse of a body for the very last time. It's a bad metaphor for a feigned and forced liberty, as with this country that I lived in and loved better than the pretentious and lifeless cities I've traveled to. Singapore is but a fleeting fling. Tickles your fancy but will leave you tired and in resentment. Hong Kong is just another plaything. Everybody would tell you she's good and all that, but she lost to your tastes still. Macau is the lover that never gives but keeps on asking, she was never the safest bet nor can you lie and tell her she's the best. Johor is just as frustrating. She would be the hardest question in the test, the one you've thought of over and over but still stood miscorrect. Bangkok, I have kept her dearly in my heart but ended up forgetting still. My other lover from the farther west, but still wouldn't compare to the best. But Manila, she lives in me. She is me. It's a shame, I will never see her prosper and bloom in her waiting heydays, whenever that may be. But do I deserve to witness that? I have never done anything to help pitch in her movement. But it's a bigger, even better shame to have lived in this age of technology. Forgive me for leaving too soon, Manila. Welcome me tomorrow around high noon, España.   Forget about me like you did with your history, my beloved Philippines. To the headlines, I am diving in headfirst. To the tabloids, I beg of you to once more tickle the funny bones of a dead girl.
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39
I wish we could catch a raindrop with our hands Hydrate a 3 a.m. conversation about how the First Agreement either does or doesn't keep us honest about the way we look at each other. At 3:13 a.m. I tell a story about my favorite agate I found when I was 13. By now it's pouring outside and a bolt of thunder snaps me out of my haze. Laying on my pillow I remember I need the clouds because I live in a storm, and right now you're the calm before, during, and after. Your voice is the one I hear over the whirl of the wind, the one I feel after waking up in a pool of my own sweat, the one I see even through the distance of feeling alone. So talk to me before, during, and after the storms of our lifetime, and we can share what we find together in the aftermath.
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Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC
Sometimes I
My joints ache and my back is broken. My lips are parched and my throat is decaying come on and hydrate my being. Because I know one thing is for sure - Heaven and Hell both long for my soul, and this dense and gyrating battle exhausts me immensely. My eyes are sore. With one blink, the dawn returns to dusk and the owls start to call out to each other No sound of the morning songbird or the church bells signaling the Seraphs to flight. I am always in the night, and always in transit with the nocturnal Let us hold each other to sleep. No liquor will drown the moon away. Sense my brokenness and fill this empty vessel. We are shipwrecks needing rescue.
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Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
My Eyes are Sore
*To think we might go terraforming; When we cannot save our own green earth. Bulldoze, clear, hydrate, land conforming - Leave behind the trash with carefree mirth Lost to eyes that have never perceived Intrinsic beauty within a leaf The song of nature, gifts we’ve received Perfumed zephyrs, their aroma brief A symphony of insects and birds Trills and whistles, loud winds and soft sighs Music here that needs no spoken words Had they noticed how it softly dies? We’ve pushed beyond a safe redemption Killed off species never discovered So much more of which we can mention Some, much too late to be recovered And yet, we plan on terraforming Move on to a new place, start out fresh Some might see it as bullish storming With ways unchanged, new worlds we enmesh. Lin Cava©*
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 5:20 PM UTC
Terraforming
it's what you do to me that makes me see that the summer isn't so bad when it comes to weather if you're around and act like the winter breeze it's what you do that fragments and throws away my left over sadness in a hole that's feelings of the are forgotten it's what you do that puts me to sleep at night because I know I'll wake up and know you'll be mine for the next 16 hours I'm awake it's what you do that makes me write like I'm writing about a high power that I believe in it's what you do that makes it seem like the sun and the moon aren't the only things that can light up my world with eternal hope when the sky resembles how I used to feel; blue, or when the sky resembles my biggest fear as an innocent minded 4 year old; the darkness it's what you do that makes it seem like water isn't the only thing that can keep me alive, because your kisses hydrate my soul more than hydrogen and oxygen hydrate my body it's what you do that makes me want to copy and paste my words on all that I feel about you inside a door in your heart and lock them with a key that I'll throw in the deepest area of the Atlantic ocean, not even the most powerful magnet in the universe could find it, because the sureness in my sentences I compose for you are meant to stay in your heart like well thought of tattoos without hesitations on inking your skin permanently for the rest of eternity it's what you do that makes me run the mile in 4 minutes and 53 seconds hoping you'd be at the end of the 5,280 feet I ran it's what you do that makes think overcoming what I think is impossible at the moment is possible it's what you do that makes me proud to stand by your side when we're walking hallways full of shame and disappointment it's what you do that made me realize a believer of God can love a doubter of his word, an opposition to my morals it's what you do that made me believe some blessings are everlasting, like you it's what you do that makes me wish I could tattoo my kisses on your face to remind you that I love every inch of what you don't like when you look in the mirror to make your insecurities irrelevant to what I admire it's what you do that makes me see that comparing galaxies to your eyes don't do them justice it's what you do, that makes me love you as much as I do, as much as I always have, as much as I always will.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Irrelevant
it's what you do to me that makes me see that the summer isn't so bad when it comes to weather if you're around and act like the winter breeze it's what you do that fragments and throws away my left over sadness in a hole that's feelings of the are forgotten it's what you do that puts me to sleep at night because I know I'll wake up and know you'll be mine for the next 16 hours I'm awake it's what you do that makes me write like I'm writing about a high power that I believe in it's what you do that makes it seem like the sun and the moon aren't the only things that can light up my world with eternal hope when the sky resembles how I used to feel; blue, or when the sky resembles my biggest fear as an innocent minded 4 year old; the darkness it's what you do that makes it seem like water isn't the only thing that can keep me alive, because your kisses hydrate my soul more than hydrogen and oxygen hydrate my body it's what you do that makes me want to copy and paste my words on all that I feel about you inside a door in your heart and lock them with a key that I'll throw in the deepest area of the Atlantic ocean, not even the most powerful magnet in the universe could find it, because the sureness in my sentences I compose for you are meant to stay in your heart like well thought of tattoos without hesitations on inking your skin permanently for the rest of eternity it's what you do that makes me run the mile in 4 minutes and 53 seconds hoping you'd be at the end of the 5,280 feet I ran it's what you do that makes think overcoming what I think is impossible at the moment is possible it's what you do that makes me proud to stand by your side when we're walking hallways full of shame and disappointment it's what you do that made me realize a believer of God can love a doubter of his word, an opposition to my morals it's what you do that made me believe some blessings are everlasting, like you it's what you do that makes me wish I could tattoo my kisses on your face to remind you that I love every inch of what you don't like when you look in the mirror to make your insecurities irrelevant to what I admire it's what you do that makes me see that comparing galaxies to your eyes don't do them justice it's what you do, that makes me love you as much as I do, as much as I always have, as much as I always will.
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15
No, ashes no longer fall From the sky Those diamonds are precious Between your thighs And that pounding in your chest Fossil fuel, so indespensable Can keep someone like me full I'm a minner ready to fall Into you, most valuable ore The mere thought of you Can warm me more Than coal or wood You can heat my heart, Set my body ablaze A thousand degrees higher Then lava consuming land No, ashes no longer fall From this sky You must have come To save me How brave we, Knowing love is dangerous Knowing it can fail, Trying with no fear or avail My manifestation of love, You rise from the shadows Letting me know I can be yours Like warm water dew drops I see you trying to attempt To hydrate, fortify this force of nature No, ashes no longer fall From our sky Taking it one precious step at time If our paths allows us Like two cells engineering one being Living one life knowing we have each other
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 4:34 PM UTC
From Our Sky
Friends, enemies, angels, demons, and Gods alike: I have but a simple request of thee: (however redundant it may well be) forget not to drink Water! For 't'is an acid in basic environments and a base in acidic environments; 't'is comprised of two of the most explosively energetic elements and 't'is the foundation upon which many systems operate and 't'is the medium through which many systems facilitate. 'T'is pure crystalline goodness for these, our crystalline bodies; and, I find, the chances are 't'will only be of benefit to thee to drink some more of it! So, my advice is: do it: drink it deep if, indeed, ye can. For, thou art fortunate if such be the case and it's straight-up fuckin' irreverent to ignore such an extreme gift. When it is there, 't'is there for thee; 't'will nourish thee. Give thanks to it as well as for it. Hydrate, it feels great. It can be a cure-all for even the worst moods. Some mint, some lemon, maybe some solid water polyhedrons, should ye encounter such need for diminished thermal states. Though, warm water is absorbed more readily. The moral here is merely to respect what thy Body needs, both mentally and physically: 't'is thy vessel; 't'is owed thy respect: 't'is what gives thee Time, and it is good to give back.
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Thank you, Water
When you skip the rhyme And you scan the lines And you feel whatever you can, Whatever comes to you: it's what I am. A sobering experience Highlighting our differences As I'm allowing the typed letters to form words And the words, often absurd. Like the water will hydrate your body and skin The words will do the same to your mind and soul within.
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
Fast paced poetry
Dripping in adolescence, Breaking ourselves to get a gist of what putting ourselves back together has the power to feel like, Late nights spent making horrible decisions to wake up in the morning and recover what little energy we have left, It is not me, it is you It is not we, it is us Surrounded by hot sweaty bodies collecting cold sweat in jars so we have something to hydrate our obsession with confidence with, Feeding off positive energy to form some sort of understanding of what pessimism takes to the battlefield every day, In every way, this is everything we tell ourselves not to get into, yet do anyway, Giving ourselves to the wrongdoers to see how much of a tolerance we have built up, Searching the cracks of innocent bodies trying to find the answer to all of the promises broken on us, Coming up with excuses so we don't have to apologize for being the lesser man, Ruining our shoes by walking on the mud of teenage heartbreak, Driving as far away as possible and hoping that our problems won't catch up to us, We are dangerous, but we wouldn't change a ******* thing We are always late, but we wouldn't miss any of this for the world Broken, but not recovering because we love the feeling of knowing we still have the strength to help ourselves if we have to, We are finding space where there is none, We are loud when it is all silent, We are never ending where the ends meet, Lost in the static of this electrifying atmosphere we call our youth, Look how high we're jumping from Not dying, but getting there, We wouldn't change a thing, We are loving every minute of it
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 4:33 AM UTC
Diary Of The Everlasting
Dripping in adolescence, Breaking ourselves to get a gist of what putting ourselves back together has the power to feel like, Late nights spent making horrible decisions to wake up in the morning and recover what little energy we have left, It is not me, it is you It is not we, it is us Surrounded by hot sweaty bodies collecting cold sweat in jars so we have something to hydrate our obsession with confidence with, Feeding off positive energy to form some sort of understanding of what pessimism takes to the battlefield every day, In every way, this is everything we tell ourselves not to get into, yet do anyway, Giving ourselves to the wrongdoers to see how much of a tolerance we have built up, Searching the cracks of innocent bodies trying to find the answer to all of the promises broken on us, Coming up with excuses so we don't have to apologize for being the lesser man, Ruining our shoes by walking on the mud of teenage heartbreak, Driving as far away as possible and hoping that our problems won't catch up to us, We are dangerous, but we wouldn't change a ******* thing We are always late, but we wouldn't miss any of this for the world Broken, but not recovering because we love the feeling of knowing we still have the strength to help ourselves if we have to, We are finding space where there is none, We are loud when it is all silent, We are never ending where the ends meet, Lost in the static of this electrifying atmosphere we call our youth, Look how high we're jumping from Not dying, but getting there, We wouldn't change a thing, We are loving every minute of it
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24
I've reached a door after twenty-three years that I apparently can't walk into unless alone, as foolish as I always am.. I decided I'd never let go of my loved ones and lost that last piece of me behind that door and stayed here. Lost, confused as **** loved but not like I should be loved, communicating when I don't even believe in the word or the magic of that action, but at least with my loved ones.. Eh? Oh well, if any of you people are reading this behind the door, did I miss it? was it wrong that I quit it? I know it was a mistake, I knew it while I was walking the opposite direction from it as well. I said all the stupid things I'm supposed to say but only when it "felt right" well, nothing feels right. But at least I'm with my loved ones, yeah? I lay in bed in mornings and for hours at midnight, I walk the roads to everything alone my heart can't stop feeling this sort of unbearable feeling and I think it's trying to tell me something that I still can't figure out or most probably in complete denial about, I eat the food I'm supposed to eat, I hydrate, I walk as much as I can, I stopped listening to blues and only listened to what made my heart race, I've watched my cat give birth to the most beautiful six kittens ever existed, I sit with my mother until she's out of talks, I take long therapeutic baths and treat myself right.. from time to time.. but my heart is still feeling the same way, almost nothing but that feeling, and relates to nothing but that unbearable feeling. So.. I decided I'd try and talk to my loved ones, my darlings, my whole life which is the reason I chose them over myself and it goes like this: My sister, my guardian angel: "You should go have a full checkup." My best friend: "Same" My loved one: "..." And I knock the door Once Twice But I stand here alone hours in the morning, hours at night roaming all the roads staring at every wall built the sky, clouds and the sun alone but thinking about my loved ones
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Where are we?
I've reached a door after twenty-three years that I apparently can't walk into unless alone, as foolish as I always am.. I decided I'd never let go of my loved ones and lost that last piece of me behind that door and stayed here. Lost, confused as **** loved but not like I should be loved, communicating when I don't even believe in the word or the magic of that action, but at least with my loved ones.. Eh? Oh well, if any of you people are reading this behind the door, did I miss it? was it wrong that I quit it? I know it was a mistake, I knew it while I was walking the opposite direction from it as well. I said all the stupid things I'm supposed to say but only when it "felt right" well, nothing feels right. But at least I'm with my loved ones, yeah? I lay in bed in mornings and for hours at midnight, I walk the roads to everything alone my heart can't stop feeling this sort of unbearable feeling and I think it's trying to tell me something that I still can't figure out or most probably in complete denial about, I eat the food I'm supposed to eat, I hydrate, I walk as much as I can, I stopped listening to blues and only listened to what made my heart race, I've watched my cat give birth to the most beautiful six kittens ever existed, I sit with my mother until she's out of talks, I take long therapeutic baths and treat myself right.. from time to time.. but my heart is still feeling the same way, almost nothing but that feeling, and relates to nothing but that unbearable feeling. So.. I decided I'd try and talk to my loved ones, my darlings, my whole life which is the reason I chose them over myself and it goes like this: My sister, my guardian angel: "You should go have a full checkup." My best friend: "Same" My loved one: "..." And I knock the door Once Twice But I stand here alone hours in the morning, hours at night roaming all the roads staring at every wall built the sky, clouds and the sun alone but thinking about my loved ones
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16
On a raft in the middle of the ocean walking alone and dehydrated in the desert lost and hungry in the wilderness friends in the skies in the images of clouds inspiring memories but nothing on which I can feast tears too salty to quench my thirst try to speak but i just weep try to put energy into my feet I loved you all but this is so hard I want so **** bad to survive Can't anyone see I'm barely alive? Questioning why I should even try? Tears dried in the heat of the sun Years ago I stopped having fun God **** I'm just so I'm just so done Drifting on a raft in the middle of an ocean of my own bitter tears they can't hydrate me can anyone revive me? Can I survive being me? I thought I knew reality If this is life then it's death to me Cause there aint even one breath left in me Can I redeem what's left of me? Starving for an epiphany I just hope you all remember me as this planet dismembers me as I succumb to being me praying for a new me
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
Drifting Away...
Hey friends, just want you to know as this year ends, whether you ingest brownies, alcohol or ecstasy, stay safe, hydrate and create some new history, blissfully. Get live, just don't drink and drive cuz we still have memories to make. Consciously enjoy your slice of heaven, for heaven's sake. Much love to you and the stars above May you feel peace as clear and symbolic as the emergence of a dove. Wear a glove if you get frisky, and if you're strapped for cash drink off-brand whiskey. May the music vibrate your soul, and the collective energy-field take hold For you to seize control and own the present. Let intuition guide you to a place more pleasant. Even if you're gonna sit at home, sippin' on some beer, I hope you enjoy yourself, and have an amazing New Year!
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Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
A little New Year Cheer
hot sun the sweat heat on full blast the sweat losing weight re-hydrate the sweat the sweat the sweat
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
the sweat