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blondespells Dec 2020
Lily Kesha Gump

Sittin' on the curb of Bronx and Main Street

How I wish I could wrap my arms around you

Sweet little lady, lookin’ grown with a picture of her mama’s stare frozen on her face

Wrists slung through the spaces of her thighs, waiting for a daydream

And she sees me as I’m twirling by in my ruby reds and thigh high leather grace



There you go darlin,

She says to me  

Scoring on my indigo smile

She bites men to sleep

With the crevices of her curves

As her voice weakens wicked

she pulls me out of my gloom



There you go darlin,

She says to me

With a time bomb ticking

On my pain pain pain

And the pen is in my hand

Before she even leaves my sight



I love this city

I love these women

I love their shoes

I love their smiles

Cheeky little laughs  



Someone once recommended

When I was dancing under the shades of a neon lamp  

From Homeless to Harvard

by a woman named Liz or Marie

Or maybe I read the title off of a screen
when I walking with Maryanne on north Peachtree street


And I remember


Lily Kesha Gump

How I wish I could wrap my arms around you

And give you the life some white woman

who doesn’t even know you

Thinks you desire.
Jessica Britton Oct 2013
This is to every sour patch kid
That ever tried to be cool by going off the grid
But you’re only as cool
As that mouth behind your cig
And the thoughts you numb with aspirin

I think we all know
It’s sour
Then sweet
But not before it’s gone
So keep it in your mouth a little longer
And then maybe
Just maybe
We won’t cry every time the bag is empty
And the lights turn out
And all we have left are those little grains of sour
That we still eat anyway

This is to every sour patch kid
That ever wrote “I love you” on your eye lids
Then fluttered your lashes
But closed your eyes for too long
Too long to see that the party was gone
And that you were the only one still pretending to have fun

Lets for a minute pretend that
The red ones aren’t just Swedish fish with a little bit of tang
And that the slang you throw in there
Doesn’t make your words anymore true
But were all gonna scream it anyway
Then maybe
Just maybe when we’re screaming
We’ll forget how to talk
And have to use our hand to say more than
Flipping the bird ever could

This is to every sour patch kid
That only did what they did
Just to say that they could
What society forbid

Well this is how it ends
The bag in which you so snugly live
Is ripped open with teeth
And when that happens
You’re gonna fly in between the
Gear shift and the seat
And then maybe
Just maybe
The hand will be skilled enough to get you out
If you’re lucky enough they even look

But even as messed up as that is
Or even as wasted as Kesha is
She has a point
We are who we are
Sincerely, The Breakfast Club
Ignorance is bliss,
really,
more like Stupidity.
an aspect,
benefiting a person,
like cold sore,
irritating,
an annoyance,
peevish to your life.

Face it, honey,
you’re as fake,
as your personality.
You’re plastic,
I could melt you,
if I truly desired,
setting a lighted match,
to your artificial body.

Please, take some advice,
lay off the make-up,
you look like a clown,
maybe a *******.
Tanning is acceptable,
but looking dark orange,
is outrageous.
There is no need to look,
like you just rolled in bag of Doritos,
that’s Snooki’s Job.

There is more to life,
besides appearances,
waking up like P. Diddy,
sweet heart, don’t like be Kesha,
it’s ******.
Partying is enjoyable,
but not necessary every night,
consisting of drinking,
frat boys, jocks, pretty boys,
saying “oh my god”,
or “I broke a nail”,
and precarious ***.

I know you were raised with Barbies,
but you don’t have to be one.
Barbie is a piece of plastic,
containing no originality,
with an unfeasible body,
and isn’t real,
much like yourself.
Stop with the act,
no one wants to be,
around a person,
who is often intoxicated,
narcissistic,
and a ditzy *****.

You can be a girly girl,
but be genuine,
stop being a follower,
if everyone jumps off a bridge,
then you’ll be splattered,
upon the ground with them,
no use to anyone.

My words are probably useless,
going right through the holes,
of yours ears,
attached to the plastic head of yours.

Anyways, I tried,
as excruciating as it was,
to reach out to you,
who are living this life,
of alleged greatness,
more like a travesty,
in my eyes.

Hopefully, you’ll change,
wake up from this social stupor,
become yourself,
regain your individuality,
and cease to be,
a Barbie doll.
Aaron LaLux Aug 2017
One of her earliest memories,
was that of being *****,
that’s right no foreplay in this poem,
right into it like what happened to her when she was torn open,

one of her earliest memories,
was not of flowers or ice cream or curious cats,
just that which was her grandfathers curious fingers,
***** by the very ones who were supposed to protect her,

painful facts of heinous acts do we have to let that linger,
can’t we just get it out into the open I mean it’s even happened to the famous,
just ask The Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan,
or Amy Shumer or Lady Gaga or Gabrielle Union or Madonna or Tori Amos,

or Teri Hatcher Kelly McGillis or Queen Latifah or Pamela Anderson,
or Oprah Winfrey or Fran Drescher, or Mo’Nique, AnnaLynne McCord,
or of course Kesha, Jane Fonda or Ashley Graham ****,
and these are just a fraction of the victims because most women don’t even file reports,

but it’s not just women that get ***** it happens to men too,
Tim Roth Scott Weiland R Kelly Billy Holiday to name a few,
also include Cory Feldman of course and DMX Santana & Tyler Perry too,
I mean to be honest I’ve also been touched inappropriately how about you?

Let’s bring our skeletons out of the closet so we can stop the nonsense of these monster’s abuse.

How is **** so common and constant yet the subject completely oppressed,
I guess it’s kinda exactly like what happens to those that are molested and those that ******,
young girls staying silent while screaming inside and taken advantage of by a member of their tribe,,
as the same man that married the woman that breastfed her mom touches her breast,

in other words,
the man who birthed the woman that birthed her is the one that hurts her,
her grandfather’s curious fingers find his granddaughters innocence,
and she’s not sleeping but still she’s squeezing,
her eyes closed like if she tries hard enough he’ll just disappear and evaporate,

as he fulfills his sickening sense by finding her emptiness in the losing of her innocence…

Why do those closest to us cause us the most harm,
why was this girl more comfortable telling me what had happened to her,
than telling her own family about what had happened,
maybe because the trust was gone and the love was lost because they’d betrayed her,

why does the American Dream,
sometimes feel more like a terrible nightmare,

one where you’re dreaming that you’re being attacked,
but you’re paralyzed by fear so as much as you try you can’t scream,
silenced by the violence that’s personally occurring to you,
and you’re trying to pretend you’re asleep but really all you want to do is awake from this dream…

I guess in a way we all feel sick,
because we all have things we still have to admit,
like how suicide is something a lot of us have tried to commit,
how we all feel sick of it all & don’t know the point was to any of this,

see sometimes,
when you’ve been wronged your whole life you lose sight of what right is,
and honestly I feel exactly the same way sometimes,
which is exactly the reason why I took the time to write this,

just to let you know,
that I love you,
and that I hope,
one day you'll escape all abuse,

when we are pure enough to see clearly,
when we’ve redeemed ourselves enough to earn our halos,
when we finally reach the Heavens,
someday sometime someplace somewhere over the rainbow….

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of multiple best selling poetry books
https://www.amazon.com/Aaron-La-Lux/e/B00ODPJAOK
Andrew Rueter Apr 2021
You might be on ****
if you run over your own transmission
pushing your car as hard as possible
because Tik Tok by Kesha is playing.

You're definitely on ****
it afterwards you pull into a nearby parking lot
and decide to just shoot **** there
for the next few days.

You're not on **** anymore
when the business owner is fed up with you
and you're falling asleep talking to the police
who only find empty bags and tell you to leave.

The lines become blurred
when you're six months sober
and a psychosis has developed
to the point where you're hiding
behind your couch from the shadow
people with ****** rifles outside.
Allen Wilbert Sep 2013
Best Week Ever

Just had my best week of all time,
I'm 42 but still in my prime.
Spent some time with Brittany Spears,
I left her begging and in tears.
After a night with Beyonce,
she wanted me to be her fiance.
Just one night with Pink,
now she can't even blink.
Had a date with Katy Perry,
she asked me to pop her cherry.
Spent some time with J-Lo,
she was more sloppy than a joe.
Rihanna likes to play rough,
**** she looks good in the buff.
Me and Fergie ate some black eyed peas,
then we were joined by Alicia keys.
Had a blast with Taylor Swift,
we did it on a ski lift.
Avril Lavinge wanted it never to end,
now she wants to be her boyfriend.
I turned Miley Cyrus back into Hannah Montana,
its a secret what we did with a banana.
Me and Kesha sang her hit Tik Tok,
then she ****** on my clock.
Selena Gomez is a witch no more,
I turned her into my little *****.
Carrie Underwood won't slash my tires,
the heat between us started some fires.
Gwen Stefani left the singer from Bush,
she loved the way I smacked her ****.
Lady Ga Ga showed me her poker face,
with her I reached every base.
Me and Lita Ford kissed each other deadly,
then she sang me a **** medley.
Madonna said I was her best,
we spent no time dressed.
I was man enough for Sheryl Crow,
let me tell you, she can really blow.
As the week ended, I had Shakira moving her hips,
then I woke up and it was an **** with Gladys Night and her Pips.
Zani Jun 2017
Welcome to the feast
We all come here for the hunger
Come and take a seat a while
Lets talk of friends
Lets talk of style


Elizabeth Squires
She is one to admire
Connecting the dots
So that love may transpire

Kim Johanna Baker
By God’s blessings and grace
Makes this portal
A magical welcoming place

Then there’s Temporal Fugue
Who’s magic awakens
With his humour
Much of my time he has taken

TSPoetry is a royalty
With his noble voice honours me
How much sense that I make
From the words that you’ve choiced

Donna Jones
The three line queen
Pure joy through her literature
Now I’m forever dreaming Haikus

Ouise Godsent Abode
He knows
With five lines he unravels
Then tickles your bones

z-blossom your stanzas
Are so pleasing to the eye
How the vivid words ring
To my ears as sublime

CGY Your haikus
They have blown my mind
To collide with Benji’s
Beautifully long, flowing write

Ghostwriter and Mykayla shea
Even though I rarely see ye
I’ve read through most your poetry
And hope that there’s loads more to read!

As for Clark Dave Hitchens
I just read him in my kitchen
This way I found a witty rhyme
But not to undermine his brilliance

Janae you are on it
Red Flag, Daydream,
Magic Kiss, Invisibility,
Brain *****

Vlassis I will quote you
When I need to charm a woman
Otherwordly Wanderer
When some hope I need to summon

God bless to Tyler Mathews
He is posting every day
I hope the universe conspires
For us to carry on that way!

To learn of freeform prose I can
Take a scroll to SR Millan
And if I want a treat dessert
Ellie Graves has tonnes and tonnes of work!

Zhanuary Arielle
So much passion your words tell
I feel I understand them
Natural imagery does us well!

Marie James Alexander
I pandered to the thought of you
When I put Ramen in my soup
I chuckle at some words you choose

Daniel Steven Moskowitz
Your poetry endless
Your writing is phenomenal
Your arguments relentless

Camiliamhd I wish that I
Could read what you are saying
When I read your pretty poetry
I feel like I am praying!

Vanessa Gonzales
She has got the attitude
With Fredrick Njoroge block style
They push onto higher altitudes!

Kesha You have peirced me
With your double barrel stanzas
I had to go read SoulSurvivor
To practice on my Mantras

Now that the round is over
It is time for us to feast
I thought that I'd invite you
So that we'd have a chance to meet

Thank you all for being
Thank you all for caring
Thank you all for sharing
Thank you all for reading

<3
Bon Apetit!
Murredith Feb 2016
***** isn't okay & no government or *any authority figure should ever be the one to decide if someone was sexually assaulted, or not. In addition, a human's rights, safety, & mental health, should not be taken away or reduced simply because another human or a group of humans have decided so. Kesha Rose Sebert, better known as Ke$ha, is a celebrity who called attention to a situation where she was drugged & ***** & isn't finding justice even after speaking up about it.
Though she was denied release of her contract with Sony Music, meaning she now must continue to work with the man who drugged & ***** her, she has the support & help of millions. This is because she's a celebrity & attention was called to it. But what about those who aren't known? What about those too afraid to speak up because it's a hopeless attempt for justice. What about those who did speak up but the case died in a court room or even before it ever made it to a court room, simply because the abuser has higher authority, more power, or is in some way guaranteed to be found excused by the law?
What about them?
Thank **** she spoke up. But what about everyone else? Justice needs to be served to Ke$ha & also to the many other victims in this world.

**We shall not fall under those above us from fear or from the indignity of others.
Go to change.org & sign the petition to boycott Sony. Speak your thoughts, share this message, share other messages about it. Sign, speak, share & don't let them win. We will find justice. Together.
ayroba dutton Aug 2014
2014, a year where 90s and late 80s babies are happy hyper turnt up not turnt down are swaggerific vs Brillitelegerent. Everyday we live is a commercial Just because we see many commercials Young fly and flashy is what we all want to be but what about those that just want to be "young wild and free"

Free to speak, free to act, free to stand, free to move, free to sing, free to dance, free to read, free to eat and more importantly free to choose how and what we want things to be like Females: I see we got swag of soul urban sophisticated finesse then theres those of us who are preps that are chic may be geeks. Lastly the girls that love to twerk alot plus cover themselves in thick make up and hair dye or is it a weave or a bob (Bob)

They say we sweet cuz we got that "bubblegum" question is what is your flavor something like K Michelle? Nicki Minaj? Rihanna? Miley Cyrus? In that case so do we all skirts and crop tops and bikinis and short shorts or is it galaxy leggings or perhaps jeggings.

Fellas they say you are pimps and players dons and brothas that be like "Forget the haters" they say you are cool with swagger as Kesha said something like that Nick Jagger. Urban dominance, fitteds and suits glasses and high fades what about those high grades Yasssss my brotha ooh I cant forget about those gorgeous dread heads now Ayeeee

Alright I mentioned alot about the guys but which are you...chris brown? Drake? That boy Meek milli or Justin Beiber well whichever it is Ladies and Gentlemen Just remember your place and Destination our Generation peace
Zulu Samperfas Dec 2012
Warm and fuzziness is the feeling I crave
That feeling that everything is OK, with me, the world,
the sun is shining, I'm out of that dank cave
And there's one way to get it, even though I know even though I've been told
through science I know, there are really two ways

Science isn't poetic, but it explains and you can understand it
Doesn't change much of anything in how you feel as you go along
I feel like I'm living through a ****** Kesha song
and that is sad and just plain wrong

Men.  They can give me, that seratonin high
And there's nothing better, although I've looked well nigh
everywhere and run down train tracks, into seedy bars,
took those pills in plastic bags and ***** jars,
it always comes back to that one elusive feeling
that floating, I am attractive, enough and everything will be just fine
And I'd drink a case of wine
except I know it wouldn't take me there,
just make me sick, and lie around making a rat's nest of my hair

It makes me seem desperate
For the guy who is experiencing me and it
I don't even have to like him
He just has to turn a kind eye and off I go
That's how I entangled with my X I know
I didn't even like him much, but off I went
and ended up married under one of those Jewish tents

So one call and I'm high
And then an hour later it's over and I'm low
There is only one thing I know
I must take the sage advice
that I've paid a high price
for
and that is: this feeling, to myself I can give
and if I learn that I won't feel like this
I can, anyone can, renew from the inside out
I don't have to walk around in helpless doubt

But it's the hardest thing in the world
harder than the butterfly stroke
that I'd never tried to learn
I wish there were drugs in some ancient urn
and I'd walk a thousand miles on my knees
until they were bloodied
to plunge my hand in and consume that thing
or I wish at least I had some book
that could teach me how to get there, or at least how it would look
Just be here, science says, that's all it does.  It's not enough.
Maya Duran Sep 2019
i.
To catch a boy in the wake of summer
Leave out a cup
Brimming with melon-colored milk tea and tapioca
Make sure to capture his smile
When he spills some on the counter

When it is still warm on the cheeks
And independence has yet to be fully realized
You catch a boy by offering him the futon
Night after night after night after night
You don’t think to ask your mom and
He doesn’t seem to mind the basement stench
But you overcompensate with your words anyway
You’re good at that

Kesha plays like a hymn in the cathedral
Of his boyfriend’s second car
But you catch a boy with the menthol sound
Of Cavetown at dusk in your hole of a bedroom
And he sits on the bed and watches you paint
As his notifications are piling up with passive-aggressive texts
Summer tastes like lemon and cough drops
This is the first poem in a series titled "Cavetown wrote a song about your ex and we played it all summer long." The series is about the best summer of my life, although the poems may appear bleak upon first reading. It is about falling in love and the budding of a best friendship. About seeing and being seen.
Calli Kirra Sep 2013
The crickets and the cars
And the heat of the stars
Running down the street
Hopping the bars
A trap beat
Rustling sheets
Wherever you may be
Rollin windows down as we speed around
Kendrick and Kesha and ATL
Mac and Butch Walker and Frank's Golden Girl
The smell of gasoline
Clink of rings on my feet
When they scream at us to get out of the street
Kisses and moans and gimme more's
Cash register chimes cause I bought one to match yours
Cryin in the bathroom and baby got sick
When I gotta fall asleep
That does the trick
Alanah croft Aug 2014
Connor
My love my drug
Kesha
To the window
To the door
I changed my behaviour
As i saw
M V Oliveoil Feb 2015
when your laughs turn into sobs

they go back and forth really

you can see the line

are you overjoyed or hysterical?

it's a vicious cycle

to realize your emotions.

as I laugh into sadness i remember all I've done

I let you down

when all you did was raise me up

I promised you things that I have had to go back on

Your trust in  me may never be the same

but believe me when I say that you will always be in my fame

hold yourself dear

as i do now

it may not seem like it

but please don't fight it.

We will each move on

cause that's how how things work

but you will always remain

my closest domain.

I consider that I may have just ruined

the best thing to have entered my life

But when the time isn't right

it really ***** things up.

And I wish so much that I had met you twenty years from now

because my heart would want the the things you do.

But right now

it's not the same

it'll work itself out

the way it's supposed to

you'll find yourself a girl who deserves and appreciates every second of you.

I'm sorry that I couldn't do that.

You have no idea how much I wish I could

You mean so much to me.

I love you.

It's that simple and that complicated.

Be happy

Forgive

Don't forget

We had amazing moments together.

Please never forget me.

Because I will never forget you.

I will cherish those moments forever.

I know that you will need to grieve

But

Please don't think badly of me

I needed to do this

and I hope that one day I'll be be able to explain

I hope that one day we can be as close as we used to

I will will always regret not telling you how important you are to me

You are millions of times more amazing than you think you are

You'll find her

I truly believe that

your one girl who can give you everything that you desire.

I'm sorry I couldn't be her for you

but I promise to be supportive of you always

in anything

no matter what

we'll probably always agree to disagree

but that's what makes us you and me

I promise that when I reach the point

If I ever meet Miss Kesha Rose

I will make sure

you have your tea, just tea, with her.
Farah Mar 2018
I learn today that I have changed,
for better or worse i'll never know
People come and people go,
I am going through something I was once afraid to show,

Chapters are my story line...
adding up to reveal different personality crimes
it's how the system grows and grows,
 I'm a thriving kid of wild ambitions and colour of indigo,

counting up as my age ascends like killer queen,
I'm young, naïve and cleverly keen  

Has God answered my prayers?
I guess that's a question i'll never stop asking,
I need to take a bath and start relaxing
days and nights, runs and walks,
praying and praying when will he talk ?
you come out better than your demons warned you not
listen to Kesha and pray,
its your only way of fighting your enemy
Marthin Sep 2018
The rain pours slowly outside
tiny drops flow down the glass,
A bright yellow shaped M hangs
outside this place that promotes a clown,
A song by Kesha is being
played on the speaker loudly,
The taste of smooth white cream
paired with the sweet yet salty caramel,
I see kids playing around
smiles plastered on their faces,
I forgot the times which I smiled
like that, no worries or woes,
Nothing to think about but just
having fun and enjoying the time,
I long lost forgotten how it
feels to be truly happy,
I try to be on track with the music
but I can't get in tune,
I try to be happy, but there's a
crack that cannot be filled with,
I try to fill up that crack that
seems like a black hole,
That part of me is something
that just can't disappear,
I've longed for something or
somebody to fill this space,
But as I travel and experience
more, I have come to realize,
That maybe I don't need something
and all the more someone,
Maybe I just needed to let
myself find out what happiness
truly is and how I found it,
As I think about all those things,
the music changed into
something that created much upbeat,
I decided to walk away from
the place and go home,
As I exit the door, I walk through
and I felt the rain sprinkled
over me, and I felt something,
I felt a relief of being able to accept
something you love without
avoiding or rejecting it.
Maybe happiness looms around
each and everyone of us but
we avoid and reject it cause
we don't think that it's what we want,
but dear that's what we need.
Morning songs to gear my day
Running up that hill on YouTube display
Kesha praying for strength to come
Kid in street tells Grandfather in difficulty of the hill he today had to run
I felt the climb
Ashly Kocher May 2019
I’m about to blow
Just like the little tea ***
Or even Kesha
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
.as i reiterated the stream-of-consciousness cut-off point: wow! that's a great way of thinking about "it".

and "it" is a great starting point,
i never understood how
the French existentialists,
or existentialists in general,
notably the rigid Germans
could invert the comma on
such a pivotal word like ego...
maybe this whole "gender neutrality"
of pronouns stems from
what the French existentialists
cited, i.e. "i"...
but then...
   aren't we talking about
a number neutrality?
     they isn't one, as one would
claim, in Royal speak, no?

i still prefer to don female sunglasses,
i prefer the feline contorts...

there was something else...
ah... **** me, i almost forgot,
a reworking of
cogito ergo sum...

   right...

            cogitans qua esse

i.e.

it's more of a question,
a prompt rather than a proposition,
i.e. an observation,
it's a prompt, a vector,
because there are no fixed
coordinates,
hence?
it's self-explanatory:
        exploration is on the table...

mind you:
i know of gay males who
love divas...
  lady gaga, kesha, rihanna, etc.,

i can't control the music i like,
music is unconscious
with regards to liking or disliking
it...
     headphones and the analogy
within the confines of the sound
of progress?
   really?! the sound of cars is
motivational, enough to not escape
into music?
   don't **** on me with
that kind of *******...

and in relation to dreams,
   i love this quote from rogue one
(non verbatim):

are you the sort of man that carries
his prison wherever he goes?
that's how i count for the phenomenon
of dreams...
      i rarely dream...
i sleep...
   but dreams are shackles
under the scalpel-scrutiny of
Freud's observation...
   lazy, bourgeoisie demands for
scrutiny and, fixations on
metaphysical affairs...

   sure... dreams originate in the brain...
hyper-inflated memory...
dreams are a distorted,
hyper-inflated memory...
i'm pretty sure that people
with a photographic memory
dream very little...
        the cheapest,
   gateway hallucinogenic...

i don't like dreams,
reality is too real to concern myself
with dreaming,
but i have no say in that,
my body prevents me from
elaborate labyrinths in
the land of Nod & Nox...
which, oddly enough...
is mildly refreshing.

- but back to the Cartesian revision...
plain and simple

cogitans qua esse -

    thinking as being, being...
in question:
how much of your thinking
translates itself into
your, being?
day dream, O Joe?
conjure fantasies?
   hence the question,
because the fact per se is no
longer enough...
people are wondering...

the old i think therefore i exist
isn't enough...
given...
how much of your thinking
actually exists, in being
what your thinking surmounts
to the prompt of thought
in its genesis -

what can motivate you to think
if not the originality of
your being,
however subtly construed
in deviance,
yet hinging onto a figment
of a "norm"?

because, well... **** me! cogito ergo sum
is a eureka moment!
it's not a preposition,
it's a proposition, hence a vector,
with coordinates,
and it can be changed,
since it's proposed,
                 and not supposed...
otherwise it wouldn't be
so ****** revolutionary!

hence my counter, it's a question...
cogitans qua esse...
thinking as being, being?
yes, we're all Nazis having read
the defector Heidegger's obscure works...
pure and proud Aryans...
gorilla punches on the chest
and all...

   it's a simple question,
   and i'm done with undermining
ontology with
                          ******* out maxims
akin to Nietzsche or la Rochefoucauld,
or Machiavelli.
the words i wrote at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, twenty
did i truly understand them?
do i truly understand them now?
i'm closer to thirty than i am to fifteen
and i'm just staring at this keyboard
of a laptop i didn't buy
listening to kesha on a speaker with the volume turned up 'way too high'.
i think about the days i laid on the floor, listening to kesha, with the volume...yeah, way too high.
i would lay on the floor of the room i grew up in
a room whose walls, if they could talk, would just weep
they would sob with all their might
the distress, suffering and bloodshed they've seen
and i'm still here, alive, more than just alive. living.
and i wonder, could there be a way to slip back in time and watch myself on those cold, lonely, empty nights?
"ain't it funny how time flies? fades into gold. now i wanna do a drive by, but i cant find the road... back to wonderland, where it all began."
"feels like it was a movie, that plays in my mind. shadows of a past life, wish i could rewind."

when did i learn to be so full of shame?
so inhibited and so suffocated?
it feels like i was more free in a sense
when i was writhing in pain and emptiness
but now that i have to have my head ******* straight on
to survive in this world on my own two feet
with everything i do, every step that i take...
shame engulfs me like a raging fire that came on with no warning.
even now, i feel ******* stupid writing these words

but in times like these,
i also feel completely and absolutely mentally ill, unwell, destroyed
and somehow, it's freeing.
i want to act like a lunatic
i want to make unidentifiable noises
i want to be called unstable
at least then i'll get a pass to be unhinged and absolutely myself
without the pretence of sanity and civil behaviour
without needing to be so painfully aware of the fact that 'we live in a society'
**** that
i am my entire society
i write the rules and i erase them
at my will

mentally ill, depressed out of my mind, numb as all hell, withering away
but completely and entirely free to be myself.
act out, lash out, scream, cry, crawl, hiss, flail, fail, growl
do it all
**** what anyone thinks
i'll do as i want.
i'll be me.
that's it.

— The End —