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Patrick McCombs Sep 2016
Never ending netflix
Are you still watching?
Yes. I am always watching
Binging: rapid consumption
The sin of a glutton
Always feeling guilty afterwards
Marathoning: a long journey
Requiring stamina and determination
When you finish
You feel acomplished but half empty
As you long for the next race.

The continue watching section
Is an ever changing battle ground
Where titans like Mad Men
With its 7 seasons and hour episodes
Rise and fall
The catalog rotates constantly
An exercise in media darwinism
Where only the strong remain
And the marathon runners
Are at the top of the food chain
During the winter of {twenty-thirteen/twenty-fourteen}
many a night I did spend alone, marathoning powerful
series (namely, Game of Thrones), until eventually
the sun crept up and finally I'd fall
into troubled sleep, exhaustion was the only stuff.
So eager to forget the world I was
that I found myself in such a lonely place. I kept what
it offered me: an escape. I went a week without daylight.
The night was all mine for this nocturnal escapism, it was
great, a ridiculous and foolhardy thing, I needed it so badly
back then. In this act of praxis I vilified.

It was during one of my worse times,
When I'd be out sessioning regularly
'til dawn and for days afterwards I'd
still feel the come-down. Two lives fit
into one sleeping pattern all-too-perfectly. I remember skagging with an odd fondness now, fairly irreligious yet therapeutic somehow.
I found reprieve awake in the dark of night.
lucy anne Mar 2013
you'd think
after
decades
of marathoning lies
he might inadvertently stumble upon the truth
and yet
still
Lauren R Jun 2018
So he texted back once. Once with an exclamation point and an emoji. My teenage tech savvy brain read this as some semblance of interest. Of course, it's only a little thing. I read too much into it, and I knew that. I didn't expect anything. It's been 24 hours. I think his birthday is in 2 days. He could be busy. Is it arrogant to even postulate anxiety on his behalf? Well, anyway, I've been keeping busy. I've been marathoning movies and drawing self portraits of me surrounded by hearts with pretty cartoon eyelids.

But I think I'm worried. I'm worried that I'll never be able to love something I know. I don't know when I'll love someone without filling in the blanks. I wish I could get someone that I like to like me back, not the other way around. I suffocate in the arms of men, their kisses like battery acid on my fairy wing lips. It bubbles through and leaves me flightless. I just want a pretty boy to sweep me off my feet and cure the boredom that too, gnaws holes in me.
Lexie Aug 2018
I melt down your body like wax
It is a painful descent
And a slippery *****
I made the mistake
Of crawling inside your head
I can never look you in the eyes again
For when I was behind your sockets
Sweat marathoning down my temples
I saw things no man should see
It was beyond me
And now this evil
It is a part of me

What have I become

please

Please help me.

To see is to know
Though believing is another thing
And that changes naught
And I have seen
Oh I have seen
More than my eyes were meant for
Is this why I am cast away?
Is this why I'm a castaway?

I have lost all composure
And my solutions worth as much as the pennies in my pockets

Still I melt
And my wick grows shorter
As does my stamina
I am a wretch
And still it would be a mercy
To pull my eyes out through my skull
And let them rot in the sunlight
Even this is better than the dragons
Reigning fire in my mind

The earth
She would swallow me whole
Oh that she would eat me up in a moment
Rid me of this meandering
Take me from this hell
Still I wander
Though I lack perception
Still I tread on
Blind, foolish one that I am

— The End —