"redeemable" poems
Opportunity or opposing unity to unify and untie
Leper's lesion sipping each seasonal reason for loving your flowing hair and knowing care
Strike the stench and light the match and throw open the hatch jump inside along with furry-toad-love
*** and lust and the vex of the ****** of what is on the television gone up and through and something grew inside my skull where IT is thus, null
And I speak of course off course because of this coarse curse of your love
Flinching finch-pinch-tense, since she's, hence, a personal goddess
I'm a man of fetus-like love of birth and woman-girth
I like my girls to be bigger
Though perhaps for a less redeemable reason
I am the humanoid-elemental-embodiment of low self-confidence
And most are out of my "league" (at least physically and aesthetically)
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
If the world were flat I would argue
there would be more suicides,
Jumping from the edge of the earth.
The act would somehow be more redeemable
Than say, swimming into a concrete walkway.
City crews wouldn’t have to wash the mess
and children wouldn’t see the naked truth.
The news could do an expose
On this trendy new trend
In the inward homicidal debauchery.
I imagine the lower three miles would be much like purgatory
The pale-blue breath holders
With their glass frozen eyes
All floating in the under earth
Not sliced and bleeding,
Or comatose from pills,
Or lessening the brain via bullet,
Or gas like Plath,
Not even rope burn from a hangman’s noose.
No if the world were flat, they would be floating.
Some stitched with government satellites
Payment in the mail for their families.
Why yes there are other benefits too
Like executions,
Orbital burial and visits,
even gps tracking.
But I am no sales man
You should talk to
Samuel Birley Rowbotham
He holds a parallax
Between history and accounting.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 10:19 PM UTC
My father, he always has so much to say,
you know.
He loves weddings.
My daughter,
yes,
she’s always been so smart,
and we’re so proud of her.
He says it like he knows anything about me.
I nod and smile,
and shrink myself in front of the men.
What is there to do but pretend?
No one needs to know about
the ways that you made me unlovable,
the way I spread my legs,
the way I strike a match.
We don’t talk about it.
It’s cultural values,
or something like that.
Look at the happy couple,
interchangeably
pharmacists, physicists, or physicians.
The groom smiles,
the bride does too,
they’re both so
good.
I sit there
and dream
of it.
A mandap, a
great big white horse.
I would be forcing it,
I knew,
but I wanted them to see me in red.
I wanted to walk
down that aisle alone,
and smile, demurely, smugly –
look what I did.
I got him,
I
wore him down.
I dream like it makes it redeemable,
the things that I’ve done.
How bad is the punishment
if I deviated with best intentions?
We hold onto these tiny ambitions,
the boy
the buffet line
and the bragging rights,
like it undoes the damage.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
You and I
Are like faded vouchers.
**No matter what they say
We are Redeemable**
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
tarnished child
who the zoo
is not new
to
time, present, past and
future
are all
redeemable
and I ought to
have told you
before
it's not a heart
beating
but a drumming
from before that
sounds like
a record of
its own accord
30 years,
bare and white
baring, daring, breathing
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
The rusty lock on each heart-petal swung unusually, as if everyone now carried several keys, digital padlocks, with them on purpose, because they can never give the vile current of unpredictable fate what it deserves. They prove unable to swallow and spit out compromising, redeemable dreams and desires. Life only passes by, almost endlessly, because perhaps we all lived and existed a little with cowardice. A discarded, neglected fragment of memory drifts by in vain, the spoken "I love you!" that led to the fatal breakup before the wedding.
No one can figure it out, perhaps they haven't wanted to for a long time, what could have gone wrong in a sacred relationship that was nicknamed lasting, spiced with everything, promising immortality?! There have always been and will always be answers, the simple excess weight of forced steps keeps pulling back its leaden limbs.
After all, it is impossible to stoop to the point of questioning the now happy wife, who gave birth to three children at once, with an open judge-prosecutor confession, as if she could have discharged her social obligation at the same time. There is no need to wait for mousetrap confessions; the stoic indifference builds a mandatory defensive wall out of compromises, with which everyone tries to keep everyone away from themselves first and foremost, so that no one can be treated with dignity even by chance. to question.
There is nothing to take back from the sluggish yield of compromises that seek to belittle, nor to repent with sincerity. Because everyone is now a coward and doubly unfaithful in one person. Even the one who once truly loved takes on the yoke of vulnerability!
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 12:26 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Not redeemable in the slightest bit of having
Better luck to being a big shot while collecting what
Is suppose to be mine,
I have no kinda time to waste time on tyrants like
Yourself,
I'm trying to succeed in wealth,
No luck with getting some help,
And they say life is what you make it,
Well i made it into hell,
And I swear that I can tell nobody cares about
My way of living but all I really wanna do is
Do good for myself,
I can not spend all of my time just sitting,
Choking the life out of my future while
I'm dying from maintaining my wealth.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
I am not the protagonist of this story,
I am not the righteous one.
I am not who you think I am,
I am the antagonist, the obstacle to be overcome.
I'm selfish, reckless, mean; I'll say anything to get under your skin.
I'm vindictive and cruel, I would betray you in a heartbeat.
I am sad and envious and spoiled and I always have been.
I don't have a righteous bone in my body.
I am rebellious and weak.
I am I am
a sidenote in your story.
So don't give me your respect,
I know you think it'll work.
I don't want your love and admiration
I can't take it.
Give me instead hatred and condemnation.
Write me off as a lost cause, a bully, a weakling.
This I can live with, this I deserve.
If were all redeemable there would be no point
So let me serve the purpose I was meant to serve.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
Who is it
That lit the first flame,
On the darkest night,
Of our final day?
Who is it
That committed a heinous sin-
As the destruction of our humanity
Laid curse to all our kin.
What might become of us
As we walk blindly into darkness?
Will we redeem our begotten souls,
Or leave our redemption to the tales of old?
What burdens shall we carry?
How many millenniums will it take?
Will we succumb to our suffrage-
Or fulfill our forgotten fate?
They say it was long ago
That we crafted the glory of the gods
Stripped souls built their thrones
As we lay hollow, and broke
Dante traveled through the echelons of the afterlife
And returned with tragic tales of our irrefutable eternity
Whether we lay to waste in the River Styx
Or exist solemnly in our blissful ignorance
We conceived poetry, and literature
The likes of which the world had never seen
We told stories of prophets and fiends
All to detail our enigmatic intrigue
Unbeknownst to us we betrayed ourselves
Separate stories became separate beliefs
Bearing swords, we wrought bloodshed
Payment for prejudice, collected by grief
We led crusades, and jihads
As death of men reeked in the fields
Children were taught love, and affection
Years later, we sent them armed to the battlefields
Prophets practiced **********
Politicians purged families for power
The poor became mindless and meek
The covetous grew stronger,
as they overpowered the weak
The tales of our dreaded destiny disappeared
As our humanity crumbled before us
Our dilapidated divinity was lost to the ages
And heaven and hell, left quietly at a cusp
Perhaps we should pray, just one final time
And reach out to the heavens
For our humanity is dying...
Our beloved father, are’t thou still in heaven?
Might we still utter thy hallowed name?
Might thy kingdom come-
And your will be done?
The forsaken are many
And the gates of hell are unleashed
The oceans have turned to acid
And the earth crumbles beneath our feet
Will you forgive us our lord?
For the sins we have made?
Are we still redeemable?
Or will we succumb to the shade?
All remained quiet, for so long, we waited on his word
But the stories were stories,
and I suppose that’s all they really were.
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC
Move a little closer
Give me what you've
Planned to take.
We're both numb here
Blue lipped
And wanting around the
Flame
Taking what burns we can.
I know we need this
The way I need to
Lift away and dig around
In search of something
Redeemable
Though this act will only
Add another layer
He won't reach.
I shiver
Wasting away with the taste
Of fine whiskey
As a whisper on my tongue
Of a moment where we felt
Halfway human again.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
maybe i got caught up in that rustic
devil-may-care way that you leaned
on any counter, how the hot oil from
your grandmother's pans shot up and
flecked across the posterior of your
hand and you didn't even flinch, just
sort of sighed through your teeth
and how I spent the few seconds after
that wishing I could press myself against
your back because you are so solid.
But I digress, because I've learned that
idolizing people is a mess of self-inflicted
palsies
Nevertheless, my affinity for compounding
problems manifests in my lack of willpower,
in your forearms that are like thick bristlecone pine
branches, dry and scarred with your
obstinance--
and when you would go to wash your
hands, you'd roll your sleeves in
this rough, intensely **** manner
with your hip pushed up against
the lip of my sink, working the
dirt out of your knuckles.
So as you kneaded your fingers
back and forth; your Venke's
pulsing, I found myself to
be too hungry for you,
for this
I've never been around so much
man, so much cord and bark
i've never touched a person and
not felt like I was going to slip
through them like some spectral
being, like their spine would
give way before they bend in
two around my palm, barely
grounded by their own
body weight.
The difference is (was?) that
you feel so full, so stalwart
and
(I got to thinking; maybe I wasn't ready.
Because for all your worth, all your
redeemable qualities, I'd cashed in on
the way you made me feel when
I hadn't for so long and that's not
the way I want to,
Not the way I
Want to
Not the
Way )
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 6:36 PM UTC
.*it's not like i couldn't pay my bills at Edinburgh university, we didn't have internet access in our third year at home, but we had it, when visiting the library... so what? paying the gas and electricity bills is rocket science these days? the two of us paid them... so now it's supposedly, "hard"? mobile phone... what?! roaming internet access.... what?! car... what?! not a pair of legs?! oh yeah, i have a choice... either where i'm at... or the roof of star constellations in a forest... BIG LOSER... biggest loser of them all... the one that manages to fix up his grandparents' kitchen, and doesn't "think" his parents are lepers, or something to be ashamed of, basically a non-sperm-bank donor's... attache of ******* egoism; your turn.*
such a random array of people,
abstracting themselves
on the grounds of love...
or whatever love is...
i said once:
buy a dog first, before having
a child...
you can pet a dog for five years,
and then you can father / mother
a child...
love... seems everyone's
love is just dandy, oh so pristine...
i drink...
you probably watch t.v.,
match-made in heaven,
or Cerberus' ****
i make sandwiches that do not
resemble napkins...
i drink... **** i said that already...
so basically as perfect as
an avocado on toast...
who does this sort of ********
is that crap even edible?!
i don't want to know...
i go to a bar,
i turn into a pseudo-Santa...
some smurf, some elf sits on my lap...
'is this the part where i get
a hard on?'
obviously i don't say
those words, i just insinuate
the Christmas metaphor...
what the hell am i writing...
it's not even like i want
to look my best,
like i want to lie "hoping"
for a date...
i did speed dating once,
back in Edinburgh...
let's just say...
stroking a cat's head
amounts to the classification
of the more...
fruitful endeavors...
dating... is that a western
"thing"? you know,
when people find thinking claustrophobic?
is that the point they start dating?
when a blank space is no longer
a redeemable "friend"?
that time?
what other time?
let me guess...
never walked a cemetery alone
at night...
that's one of them, right?
can't help you there...
you're supposed to be on your
own at those crux coordinates.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC
How do I find the words,
And for them to not burn,
Coming out of my throat,
We've been in this boat,
Time and time again,
And I'm sorry my friend,
But how do I say,
That I don't want to see another day,
Don't want to live through another sunset,
I still don't know how to get,
These words out,
They can't be found,
It's like 404 of the brain,
And I'm just so insane,
At this point from these boys,
Who treat me like a toy,
To be put on a shelf,
Only to enjoy me in good health,
But when I'm not okay,
Well them I'm afraid,
They leave,
They always leave,
And I'm so tired of living every day like I'm okay,
But I just don't know how to tell you, to say,
That I need help, because I can't be hospitalized another time,
But where does that leave me to turn, I need a sign,
But God has definitely abandoned me,
If he was ever there like they say to believe,
Because I've done things, I've seen things,
I've smoked things, I've snorted things,
And at this point, He can't love me,
God knows no man can find a redeemable quality,
To stick around for,
And I know we've been here before,
But I can't seem to be alright,
No matter how hard I fight,
How many times I meditate,
How hard they try to medicate,
These feelings of suicide,
Out of my half-dead hide,
I can't seem to muster the will to live,
And any I used to have has drained out like a sieve,
The years drained out all the good,
Leaving nothing but pieces misunderstood,
And always feeling abandoned,
Dark thoughts like friends in my head,
The only one's who truly know,
How I feel on a daily basis though,
And I'm so tired of living every day like I'm okay,
But I just don't know how to tell you, to say,
That I need help, because I can't be hospitalized another time,
But where does that leave me to turn, I need a sign.
Mar 7, 2020
Mar 7, 2020 at 10:38 PM UTC
where the looming darkness is like searing 50ton gold up against the sun, and the only light is of the moon yet some hides in the hearts of the brave.
only to dance behind the eyes of the innocent.
our sky is not for limitless reaching but for ghosts of memories- tossed over the heads of the hurt. lingering in the air like thick fogs of thunder stinging those who wish to feel.
with each silky wave our seas gray of emotion, step by step its potent.
********** you of all your insecurities and restoring serenity.
we were broken stones unturned in the fields of the weak.
letting fear just dwell..
to a place where emotion is delusional!
because our hearts are cradled by the dark.
emotion is just a seduction of the mind, so we go to a place
where the broken is redeemable
and fragmentary souls mend themselves.
it is only here where the rain cries for the dried eyes
and wraps coldly around the lonely
given a sense of mother to child security.
almost like heaven but not quite there yet.
almost lifeless but you've reached a place..
almost like a different dimension,
something the ignorant would call "rock bottom"
but I've witnessed the stench of death the remains
on the gallows dangling like swing sets
because it is not often that the weakened can just stand alone.
i too was a victim of cherry blossom red against silver.
substituting pain for just 2 seconds of a blissful reality.
more accepting of the physical because i could not explain
what my brain was bawling to me.
then i found myself at a place
where it was okay to scream and i could finally breathe
i gave up my old habits when the darkness
started fighting internally.
the a place where my demons could no longer conquer me.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
The world takes out its blade
And whittles away
On all that you do
On all that you say
Pared to the bone are you
Naked without cover
All of your dignity stripped away
Nothing is left in the souls bay
Sometimes though its blades
Are ***** and dull
As it whittles you
Into something you're not
The disfigurement of you
At the cruel knife's behest
Where a lasting scar
Stays ingrained in your breast
You find you slowly bleed out
From what you once were
Beginning to end
Carved up by the world
The redeemable pieces of yourself are pasted together
To go forward with the tools of hope
The spirit within is broken
But in this life you find a way to cope
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
The boys and the girls
Of the town,
Were all lost in the mist
Of a world divided
Into the good and the worse.
They thought justice exists,
And they hoped that
Redeemable their town was.
They figured the fault
In them laid,
And replicas of their grand ancestors
They became.
Sure they were of how
Unredeemable their town was.
The men and tha ladies
Of the town,
Were eccentric.
Were all stuck in a reality,
Which the boys and the girls
Of the town
Believed is quite redeemable
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
I can't sleep
When I think about
Your ruthless race of men
You could say
That I'm just bitter
But hear me tf out-
They've said,
The respected among you,
That I inherently
Think
I'm supposed to be
Stupid
They've said
That my skin
Causes
Irrational and violent
Aggressive
Hypersexual behavior
You've believed them
Because
Let's fuckin' face it-
You trust each other
Ugh
But I'm
Just playing
The RACE CARD
Ya know?
The worn-out card
I've had since birth
That works so well
At what?
I'm not sure...
My coloring
Has earned me praise
For "rising above"
Above what?
I'll tell you:
Rising above
The white opinion
Of what is real
And what is fact
And becoming what THEY see
As an anomaly
Huh.
My RACE CARD
Is full of punches
Redeemable for
A lifetime of
***** looks
Why do I do this, again?
Oh, yeah-
I'm angry
I'm angry at Rick
I'm angry at Stephen
I'm angry at Jim
I'm angry at Donald
But that's natural
Like the Fact that I'm
Less Evolved
Less Intelligent
Less Civilized
Naturally
Black-on-black crime
Is out of control
In this country!
Pull up your pants
And take care of your children!
But I **** white boys
To the dismay of proud sisters
That don't ask me why
Here's why:
They are e a s y
And w e a k
And I don't mind
Seizing my *******
And their self-esteem
Because they know
Who's ******* who
By the end of the night
Their *****
Are MY s l a v e s
My ****
Is their M A S T E R
Truly, this is ¡JUSTICE!
I will think on my
Hypersexual conquest
My feast of white flesh
With triumph!
The only victories
I claim
And I
Will sleep
Less
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 1:37 AM UTC
"A 5."
I'm a 5?
Is that really what I want
Don’t care about what they think you’re beautiful
Wow. I thought at least a 6 or a 7
But a 5?
You are perfect. Their opinion doesn’t define you.
I should do it again.
No. Please. You know how bad for you that is.
I’m going to do it.
I have been gaining recently.
What’s it going to hurt?
Me and you. Please don’t
…..
…..
I feel better now.
I wish you would listen to me.
He said I look good.
He said I’ve gotten skinny.
He said I’m better now.
Don’t do this love, please.
She said I look good.
She said I’ve gotten skinny.
She asked me how i’m better now.
You are more than enough to me,
You have always been and will always be.
This is working well i’m happy again
Can’t you see i’m now a 10?
Oh lovely daughter you are so much more than
words can tell you
One day someone will love you just like this, like
I do.
I’ll keep going it’s doing nothing wrong.
I know you can’t yet see
But the pain you are feeling is just hiding
underneath
…..
Please.
He said I look unhealthy.
He said i’ve gotten ugly.
He told me i’m a 5.
I promise you my love you are not a rating on a
scale
You are smart, kind, more stunning than I can
explain.
She said I look unhealthy.
She said i’ve gotten ugly.
She told me i’m a 5.
cries
If you can hear then listen close.
You are Lovable.
You are Valuable
You are Capable.
You are Redeemable.
I don’t know.
Love, I created the stars.
The shining light from above that meets you in the
morning.
I created you.
Why would you doubt me?
The very one who created beautiful?
Society has made me fear it the most.
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
I often think that the only redeemable quality about human beings
Is that you may love one.
All the greed and cruelty and abuse,
All the mindless, pointless politics,
All the power mongering antics of the higher-ups
And the pervasive ignorance of the masses-
Sometimes it makes me wonder
What we are even for
If we are on this earth and choose to pollute it
And refuse to learn from our mistakes,
And avoid responsibility instead of helping those who suffer,
And cut corners so that some may be rich today
While the rest pay the price tenfold in fifty years.
We are a people of billboard ads
Our greed 300 feet tall
On the side of every highway promising
**** girls
And new cars.
From far off we are millions of empty business suits
Headless and heartless,
Puppeting through streets and behind desks.
I have never taken full ownership
Of my humanness.
Humanity- that is another story-
We have come, in our vanity, to associate that word with
Kindness, empathy, and emotion,
But from a big picture point of view,
Those concepts have no place in the description of humans.
I have always rejected, to some extent,
My fellowship with these people
That I spend my life near.
There is something other about me to them,
There is something other about them to me.
But, like many toxic things,
Humans
Are addictive.
Humans are a drug I can't quit.
And I look at all the destruction we cause,
And the horrors we invent and implement,
And the injustice we ignore,
And I wonder why I have such faith in me
For my foolish race.
And all I can think of is that
There is only one reason that we are allowed to exist,
That we are at all redeemed for our crimes,
But that that one reason
Is immense enough to hold:
When I wonder how anyone could justify us as a whole
All I can think of
Is that the only truly wonderful thing about human beings
Is that you may love one.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
If you’re gonna leave-leave completely
Because the thoughts of you
That consume my mind
Keep me up at night.
I hate the little things
that remind me of you.
I’m still pulling bits and pieces of me
From your quicksand.
And although I do like him a lot
He’s not you.
Why do I have hope
That this is redeemable
When it’s based on nothing?
So-here we are, you’re gone, and you left the door wide open ..
I haven’t had the strength
to close it yet
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
One of the only redeemable qualities
Of the mass transportation system know as the modern highway
Is occasionally I’ll catch a glimpse of a hawk on a light pole
Patiently standing watch for the next in a long history of casualties
A majority of these casualties are non-human and so acceptable as long as we all still get to work on time
And I still remember the hawk in the woods
Clutching a blue jay in its talons
Not far from where months later I’ll find the body of a deer
I stand and observe it for quite awhile
Half expecting it to get up and start walking again
There is a strange feeling you get when seeing the lifeless body of an animal that large
Almost as if you are being entrusted with a secret
Between me and he trees and the flies that buzz around it’s head
Every time I pass the body now I leave a stone as a sign of respect
A silly thing to do maybe
But I’d hope people would do the same for me after I’m 6 feet under
And the question always arises in my mind if I will ever live a life
That matches the freedom that deer experienced until it met its end
These are not topics to dwell on too often or for two long
Something this existential is best left for the coffeehouse crowds
whether you choose to join them or not
Instead I think I’m more jealous of the community of the pack,
the group,
not a mindless collective blindly following the one next to them but the conscious collective
How together they are stronger
Maybe I’ll bring back the way of the warrior poet
Enlightened, but without the boastfulness
Strong, but without need to prove it
But maybe for now,
I’ll just keep an eye out for any hawks by the highway
And the deer hidden deep beneath the trees
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC
The 14th day of the month
Gold exquisite birth
Worth $ * % ++ =
A ton of Gold & $$$
See you in September
He's 24 karat gold I phone
(Bee sting gold weight
all new)
- - - - - - - - -
My 14 karat gold toilet
Such a rarity very few
only wants to flush you
Just hush the crush go posh
to lush hell get ya gush
Around the mulberry bush
A dasher, not the slasher
Shabby chic selling her
goods of trash to the
pusher
She lights up like the
refrigerator he's the
"Jumping Jack Flash"
Rolling Stones
Brown sugar turned
14 karat gold
* * * * * *
Gold turned to sugar
Raw
Drinking her lips
Screwdriver
Overly Folger the dirt
warm brown dew
Change me to gold new
Beyond any redeemable
Hope inside gold-finger
folder
The Grecian Islands robe
The thousand island
of dressings
Seance 14 karat globe
confessing
14 karat shined on
She schemed him on
She tied him in like
rope
All the judgment days
Just one day bring on
hope
Honesty is the best
rivalry her gold you will
get linked to her sanity
How there pledging went out
But she saw something of
purity
- - - - - - - -
Too much gold on her door
Let's be "Planet Clean"
so repugnant
Hands coming out like
green mutants
Mother in gold monster
Wicked spray repellant
So gallant goldwork
Scrollwork fine lines
Show and tell me
All his crimes
"Impersonator"
You just love to
hate her $
honey, I will
see u later
She always flushes her
loves down
the toilet
All Gold Mr. Bond
4 your eye - - only
14 karat
She's the Sire
of magnet's
She sticks like
Orange petal
blossom huh?
Oh! honey this is about
Gold duh he
doesn't orange me
But she will never
Bee plain honey 10 times your $ $ $
as you see
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
The derision of the derided of the dedicated to the storm
The fire and the ice and the love and the rights and people of the demise of the dear and the redeemable
Medication and rumination sounds rather medical can you take through the bridge and preamble
Without the rhyme and pressing matters of the youthful climb
This is just a success ladder and a rare woman
Lugging a leather bag, pursed lips ready for sudden panging hunger
Like a feather fad endemic and indolent in nature, the droll *******
You telling me I'm alacrity and criminal in the numinous nimble loss for words, the fake feeling
Bewwushteinshlage tell me I'm not rising with the tide, the dyer maker
Hot dripping and filling and dryer head full of hairy dreams
The seeds and searching for the demise of the promising song
And the fresh feed of afraid and fearful peaceful people in this clouded age and premise obsessed by flippant speech
Of hungry people acting so foolishly and speaking through their teeth for the representatives of the burning heart of education
Good glaciers are this a revelation and puerile pride and repeat the same behavior if it's so lyrical
Can I tell my sorrows, and the thorough and boughs rescinding of the glances
Advancements come and go, the gut feeling is good to row
The feeling of building and the bullish ****** find of joking kindred spirits
Drilling pleasantries into ole' midterm me losing my feet and losing my need for finishing school
From the rise of the morning, the time is frolicking and not easy
Someone's running from the hopeful and the ****** and the futon for the shrink's naysay
Daydream and rolling dear ad veritas in this vine of dwindling nations, just a glass domino
Words falling like a little limerick and it hurts just distress others
Taking sister act and the distance doesn't matter to someone obsequious and robed
We are stunned by your logic and your jokes, but, you need to shut the **** up
Finally, awaken the human up and stare at the cellar and have a drink
Before the new fire sails through your life instead of the old flame you remember
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
I'm not going to beat down on any religion.
That's a battle I don't need to be a part of.
Let alone, get on the wrong side of.
But here's the thing.
Something is very wrong with me.
What? I don't know.
It's not something under diagnosis or investigation, but it can **** as far as I can tell.
Long story short, I don't want to hear the good news.
We make it so easy to complain about nothing, and yet we stick to the things we hate.
Don't want homework?
Don't go to school.
Some people will take that advice, and most people will rebel against it and stick to school, because something will benefit surely...
Don't want to put up with the parents?
Leave home.
Don't want to feel pain?
Don't start feeling love.
Don't want someone to forget about you?
Become the worst possible version of yourself.
People can't seem to forget everything bad about the world.
Don't want to deal with the guilt of being a terrible person?
Then don't acknowledge anyone.
Don't want the pressure of being surrounded by people who hate you?
Then don't go anywhere.
You see none of these suggestions seem appealing at first.
But when you face this everyday, every answer comes out bland, and boring, cynical.
Like emotion you say them with.
Don't try.
Don't care.
Don't live.
It's too easy to give up!
But I do it anyway.
I can't handle hearing good news.
Or rather, hearing good things about myself.
Do not tell me I am better than this, I know I'm not.
Don't tell me I'm special, or that I'm redeemable, or worthy of anything above this.
Because I know...
I know deep down in this body there is a monster who's been uncaged before.
It's dying to get out...
And I'm dying to live.
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 1:53 PM UTC
haven't you?
Where in the world has it taken you?
Successful or not
chasing a sensation
over and over and over
again
What are you going to do?
You don't know
I don't know.
Some end up
broke and broken
Some end up in jail
Some end up with shame and remorse
the desire to fail
Some end up at the edge of bliss
with out a care in their world.
I know.
Sometimes you gotta lose your mind
pain comes and it stays
you're afraid.
Admit it.
Every day
Every ******* day.
Hey.
Is there another way
or is it what gets you through the day.
Hey.
Put your life on the line
one more time
it'll pay you premiums
every day and that's no lie
will it get you sicker
will it get you well
either way
redeemable at the gates of heaven or hell.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC