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"mys" poems
i cannot fathom the (i'd)ea of you (go)ing away and leav(in)g me here, i(s)olated , unable to st(an)d by mys(e)lf.i cannot fathom the (i'd)ea of you (go)ing away and leav(in)g me here, i(s)olated , unable to st(an)d by mys(e)lf. n.d.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
parenthesis
i cannot fathom the (i'd)ea of you (go)ing away and leav(in)g me here, i(s)olated , unable to st(an)d by mys(e)lf. n.d.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
parenthesis
It took only a few seconds to f a l l in love with you. _________________________________________ It took only a few seconds for us to be, meyou , side by side.   _________________________________________ It took only a few seconds for you to d r o p me from your life. _________________________________________ Why can't it take only a few seconds to pick myself mysel myse mys my m up again?
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Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
Seconds; if only
What is fantasy? False fantasy confession Understanding by analogy The fantasy of me Counter brainwaves With thought guns Deceive me I am a self agenda Schools are found In the background School mask Real me Real mask School me Fat Sad and Bad Submissive Fantasy Villain Happy he should be Look down Straight Shot Straight up It's up Fantasy is theater Acting like a character How many writers in a snare. One by one making a dare School of thought thought up Subscribers indentured to strange What a hollow soto A thin man's polo Stripped with dread Woe on theater Theater is the past Back in history ****** get hit by disarray This is a history made this way Only character hits from these paypools Not so obvious doc! Try to be less conscious! Tu lewai to LA FENESTRA I'm playing the tropes That I loathe and despire Even I hide my own words Get a thought recorder Shipping and packaging is free for the day. 250 of the most popular Words arranged in draft sentances I am a fantasy! U play in. Don't worry I am an expert attorney Trained in exquisite self fantasy Proffessor of Future Fantasies Or maybe Garfield the nat "Sneekky rouououttttt. I know the truuttthh. It's a parks and rec Adventure sketch I am declining I've lost my health This issssnnn'tttt FAIR Director "CUT!" IT COMES FROM THE HUMAN MIND HAAUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can you Teach Them That CAT IN THE HAT ??? ??! ?!? !?? !!? !!! @ # $ Fantasy Divorced From mys elf Argumentative Prentinsuous And parsimonious Who buys it?
0
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 5:31 PM UTC
Mind Salad
What is fantasy? False fantasy confession Understanding by analogy The fantasy of me Counter brainwaves With thought guns Deceive me I am a self agenda Schools are found In the background School mask Real me Real mask School me Fat Sad and Bad Submissive Fantasy Villain Happy he should be Look down Straight Shot Straight up It's up Fantasy is theater Acting like a character How many writers in a snare. One by one making a dare School of thought thought up Subscribers indentured to strange What a hollow soto A thin man's polo Stripped with dread Woe on theater Theater is the past Back in history ****** get hit by disarray This is a history made this way Only character hits from these paypools Not so obvious doc! Try to be less conscious! Tu lewai to LA FENESTRA I'm playing the tropes That I loathe and despire Even I hide my own words Get a thought recorder Shipping and packaging is free for the day. 250 of the most popular Words arranged in draft sentances I am a fantasy! U play in. Don't worry I am an expert attorney Trained in exquisite self fantasy Proffessor of Future Fantasies Or maybe Garfield the nat "Sneekky rouououttttt. I know the truuttthh. It's a parks and rec Adventure sketch I am declining I've lost my health This issssnnn'tttt FAIR Director "CUT!" IT COMES FROM THE HUMAN MIND HAAUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can you Teach Them That CAT IN THE HAT ??? ??! ?!? !?? !!? !!! @ # $ Fantasy Divorced From mys elf Argumentative Prentinsuous And parsimonious Who buys it?
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92
Pai n      voi ces b od ys c o r p s e s gu ilt hat re d ang er sad ness blo od gu ts  ste  nch  de a th    he ll peo ple      ene mys all ies fam ily lov ed o n e s  fri ends   se arin g pa i n b r ok en        b o nes      to rtu re N O mer cy         men tal    sani ty L O S T                       m in d  br o k e n HIM I am HIM n o i c a nt b e ple as e  just   ki ll  M E?
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
Nightmares.
The mystic Mys-Match of Mew Manor mounts the moon at midnight. He flies freely, forgetting the faltering fallacies that fold this failing facade of figments of the imagination and inglorious nations into a crooked caricature of creeps, clowns, and carcinogens to our culture. From crack and **** to casual deaths, the population prays for post-pissing match days. What's the reason of rhyme if you don't have a reason to see a new season of sweethearts and treason? The mystic Mys-Match of the planet Piblatch has snatched nary a glance of this reprehensible romance. He hums happily, hovering over the homes of the hurt and the helpless, unaware of the ugly and untrue souls of the suffering below. Due in part, perhaps, to the planet Piblatch, whose population prowls playfully amongst the pipperplitz plants and the tinktertip trees. A civilization unaware of Gods and demons, Guido's and dip ***** At sunset, the Piblatchians partake of rackaday root and crushed up clibber clatch cuttings. They see the psychedelic sky ways that sing of sweet things and spacey swings. As mankind manipulates, murders, and maims itself, the world which waivers with weakened wings is consumed by the carnivores that **** off the common crowd and leave only the corrupt and cantankerous crooks that fall to the depths of despair when the bomb goes off, blotting out humanity's light forever. But the mystic Mys-Match and his planet Piblatch live on, past the end of time itself. The peaceful people continue to enjoy their lives and never know of the negative notions that drove the dimwitted denizens of Earth into a violent and gruesome grave. Mankind could have learned something from the Piblatchians, if only they had opened their eyes and seen the light.
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
The Planet Piblatch
The mystic Mys-Match of Mew Manor mounts the moon at midnight. He flies freely, forgetting the faltering fallacies that fold this failing facade of figments of the imagination and inglorious nations into a crooked caricature of creeps, clowns, and carcinogens to our culture. From crack and **** to casual deaths, the population prays for post-pissing match days. What's the reason of rhyme if you don't have a reason to see a new season of sweethearts and treason? The mystic Mys-Match of the planet Piblatch has snatched nary a glance of this reprehensible romance. He hums happily, hovering over the homes of the hurt and the helpless, unaware of the ugly and untrue souls of the suffering below. Due in part, perhaps, to the planet Piblatch, whose population prowls playfully amongst the pipperplitz plants and the tinktertip trees. A civilization unaware of Gods and demons, Guido's and dip ***** At sunset, the Piblatchians partake of rackaday root and crushed up clibber clatch cuttings. They see the psychedelic sky ways that sing of sweet things and spacey swings. As mankind manipulates, murders, and maims itself, the world which waivers with weakened wings is consumed by the carnivores that **** off the common crowd and leave only the corrupt and cantankerous crooks that fall to the depths of despair when the bomb goes off, blotting out humanity's light forever. But the mystic Mys-Match and his planet Piblatch live on, past the end of time itself. The peaceful people continue to enjoy their lives and never know of the negative notions that drove the dimwitted denizens of Earth into a violent and gruesome grave. Mankind could have learned something from the Piblatchians, if only they had opened their eyes and seen the light.
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7
On top of the stairs her silhouette dances, She sways with the beat making her hair flow with rhythm. Good God Oh God she moves with such grace I can't look away I want her embrace. She pulls up a square straight to her lips takes a long drag and lets the smoke fog drip. In one bony hand she grasps her own bottle, constantly taking swigs she would be my favorite model. Her arms swish back and forth next to her sides, boys keep approaching her left and right. Their mouths keep moving but it doesn't reach her, she never stops dancing like shes been in a trance. My palms get sweaty as I watch them walk away, Now mys chance as I stand from the floor. I try to catch her attention shifting in front, but like all the others she ignores my approach. I stand there awhile embarrassed of failing, noting the shine in her long black hair. Oh God Oh God, why not me Evanjellion? I take a few notes before I saunter away, turning my back I'm hoping she'd watch, Glancing back I catch a blue eye, my body burns with passion. But I just let it fly, I'll remember this night and try again next time. Do my best try harder, than maybe just maybe, she'll love me like no other. -Alicia Hubert
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 9:29 PM UTC
Evanjellion
I'm green with those I leave behind, This world I have, where all seems mine. I vacillate as their world keeps thriving, Leaving the living live with the alive. But I'm gone, I'm dead, The colorful globe will spin; The living will die; Not now... by and by, With O whys and O mys. It's a curse I've bequeathed To the loves of my life, When they leave their loved ones behind.
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May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
Oh, The Whys and O Mys
What for? For what am I waiting so long? It makes absolutely no sense. Without you I felt the walls built out of plaster and tasted coffee from countries that I haven’t visited, with soft hands I am planted in the earth on the edge of your river. Yes, so even, yet outflown as I am, degraded and unnecessary. A thousand thorn centered tributaries. I would like to feel your thoughts on me and mys-- “mys,” what does it mean to adhere? Yes, I know you have them still, these whispered thoughts they are the seams that hold my feathers beneath your head. You can lie the same way as yesterday, but without follow up. “I am not flying toward you!” I call. But it’s no use You escape me. Shame, Sweet, that we are together so short.
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Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
Library 3 12
left right center what should i choose bold thin or italic which will it be public private draft who could think mys perspective or someone else's who knows who cares
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
Choices
Earth abundant with Oh Mys, Oh my belly, oh my thighs Oh my sensory surprise Oh my hips, oh my lips, Oh my palm, oh my wrist, Oh my action, oh my whips deviating from the script More Oh Mys than I can fit Or maybe this multiplicity Crossing all with all Simplifies to one love A universal go, cosmic come Cosmic to, a universal from These Oh Mys meld Do not be deceived Feel the universal energy, But oh my! do not leave
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May 24, 2022
May 24, 2022 at 7:08 AM UTC
Abundance
Always tried to live by "don't let your worries ruin your days" Becomes quite the task when your worries are your days And you're stuck in between conversation in a hungover afternoon haze Can't ever get anything out with your constant interruptions You couldn't ever know what I want Because all you want to do is talk about you, flaunt, flaunt Constant conversation, you mys as well mark that down in your monolog The only one I can talk to is myself Makes for some interesting morning jogs Sorry about the hate mail but it's the only way I could get a message across to you Miss my dorm room for once, everything before I met you It's better to think about how lovely love is than to fall in it
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Mary Monologues (Hate Mail)
It's only cables that tie me to you now Everytime I try to contact you I get shocked My phone sits there on the coffee table, but it mys as well be my noose Every text message I sent was just time spent induced The idea of being with you is so abstract light bends obtuse But we tried government and it became to powerful Our markets were privatized and our thoughts of trade were never exchanged Oland our military minds built thought tanks from broken memories I remember those October clouds were like the fog of war When the sky ripped open and tore the ozone The conflict was swift but it would take time to repair it You won the battle though, and your sovereignty became apparent And here I am with this telephone just calling in air strikes Missing every time Because you don't care
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
Stale Dial Tone
Chewing the same gum for a while now Late nights, and parties, and fights About time I spit it out, Douse the fire, and flare the smoke out This is an S O S to brain control We're getting a lot of alcohol down here It's time to exhale and breathe in fresh air Kid, you mys as well dig yourself a hole I speak words, but my words wear masks They mean more to me, you'll never see what's underneath Maybe they'll be clearer after we share this flask And then I can wake up in the morning and breath And I'll be ****** if I see you show up to my party I was just trying to reach out Now my veins run like a still river in doubt My heart has beat itself out
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
"It's something"
After visiting the lava-tree I washed my hands with toile-trees The weather outside, was sort of win-tree Affording me no pleasan-trees As my thoughts become arbor-tree But hear no words of bigo-tree So studied the elemen-trees Looking for some asymme-tree I sat within a conserva-tree As i pondered on the fores-tree Wishing to write something complemen-tree It all became a mys-tree I thought for a while on trigonome-tree And the sciences of chemis-tree Got completely lost in microcircui-tree So sent myself to Coven-tree So i'll finish this piece of coque-tree As dwell upon my ances-tree As i delve into lost his-tree Then return again to the lava-tree! by Jemia
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May 23, 2022
May 23, 2022 at 2:53 PM UTC
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