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A Simillacrum Mar 2019
I can rewire
everything about myself.
I can reshape
every facet to fit your pieces,
but why would I?
I'll tell you. I forget my worth.
Did I ever have worth, anyway?
Did you ever hold it, either,
to be fair. What's anyone worth?

I can rewire
every aspect and affect.
I can reshape
every facet to fit your tropes,
but why would I,
when you don't seem to fit my soul?
Can you ever change that? You can.
I know it full well. I know it first
hand. It hasn't been worth it.

What's the weight of a goodbye,
when tasked to tell someone you love?

What's the weight of a sharp knife,
when used to cut tangential lines?

What's the wait on a goodbye,
when its utterance will free you?
Molly Hughes Dec 2013
When you kiss me,
I don't think you realise,
but my lips turn into an explosion of electricity
on your dead circuit board mouth.

Let me revive you.
Let me shock you into submission.
Let me make your hair stand on end,
your knees tremble.

Either that, or just smash my bulb.
My light flickers when I see you with somebody else,
and what use is a dim light to anybody?
Apart from the little extra illumination it shines on you.

Maybe I could rewire you.
Maybe I could flip a switch.
Maybe I could turn on your lips and you could kiss me,
kiss
me,
under a streetlamp.
Maybe you could be my light in the dark.

I think there's been a power cut.
I can't see.
My eyes are under a blanket of darkness,
and your light has gone out.
I guess I'll just have to switch on mine
whilst you smoulder for another
brighter,
more beautiful light.

Time to pull the plug.
Does anybody else ever get the urge to show their poems to the people they're about? Imagine their face.
Claire Waters Aug 2013
so i sit here
with a hole in my foot
with a hole in my head
with a hole in this book
with the hole in her eyes
when she gave me that look
with the hole in my face
when i saw what he took
the hole in my heart
i still don't know the crook
paper is just too easy to tear
and you think i'm easy
when you see i've been shook
i think i need a hook

now there's a hole in my stomach
and it's feeling tight and queezy as she ties
me up in knots of my poor esophagus
her knuckles white from squeezing
i breathing like a snake trying to shed
the desert sun is hot so
please lift this mask up off my head
i try to offer a white flag
but she kills me instead
cause she doesn't like the things
that she can't understand

and so she holds her fists like
they have holes in them
holds me like there are holes in me
cavities of ample opportunity
for punishment and further tearing, no tears,
none of this teething willful jeer
i'll split and rewire, i don't need old fears

i am only tired at best
the pieces did not defy gravity
they fell right out of my ****** chest
but landing is a skill you see
tear me apart for free and be my guest
ripping down the wallpaper
wrestling with the messes of stresses
no one will unremember
looking for the emotions
you desperately want to render
but while i'm still soft
i'm no longer tender
so remember when you enter that
no matter what the temper of the sender
or persuasion of the vendor
i will not surrender
to all these social mind benders

there is a hole in my flag
my blood is an involuntary badge
no more flags, white stains
too easily
Heather Jun 2019
For all my life I’ve been a woman obsessed
With taking up as little space as possible
To shrink my waist
And sink my cheeks

I’ve been a woman obsessed
With being heard as little as possible
To bite my tongue and not interrupt
To keep the ******* curse words in

I’ve been a woman obsessed
With winning the hearts of others
To see the twinkle in their eye when they smile at me

But I am thick, and I am loud, and I forgot to love myself.
Hayleigh May 2014
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.

And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.

And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.

I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.

And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.

And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.

And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.

And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.

And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.

And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Darling, I hope I'm the cause of your
existential crisis,
opening your mind
in horrifying,
vulnerable
ways.

I hope I make you question
and I hope I make you learn.
Maybe I'll rewire your brain--
praise me
let me incarcerate my
writings in your
bones,
let my thoughts linger,
let the pads of my finger tips
dwell along
the contours of the railways
in your head,


let me in.
Quick write no edit go
ShaeZen Jan 2016
Lost in shadowed emotion
tributaries run dry
damed upstream by a dreams demise
illusionary nature, brought down by truth
a pipe dream's dead end

Rewire, and release
bring illumination to a stagnant dream
remove the pillars blocking emotion
set yourself free, and let it be
it is only natural for truth to heal thy
Pathways rewired and cleared
let the light of love wash you clean
Hayleigh Jan 2015
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.

And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.

And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.

I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.

And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.

And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.

And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.

And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.

And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall.

And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
A repost for all of you who are suffering, or who know someone suffering from mental illness. Big hugs to you all ***
MAJD S Jan 2014
A bracelet of blue upon her hand
Made it easier for me to imagine
The way they loved each other;
I saw his eyes in every rock,
In emotions solidified to glistening bits;
I saw his attachment to her soul
Like pendants hanging from her arm
I saw his eyes in every piece of stone,
Now cracked;
In the midst of the serenity in a glittery blue gem
I saw collateral damage.
I saw hope in her eyes
And dry tears accumulated on the side lines
For she decided that, that is where they belong;
She clenched to a cup of tea
Like they were his arms,
Warm as always,
Soothing as usual,
Just the way it was when he was around.
I saw his imprints on her fingers
I saw him fiddling with her words,
Although they weren’t much,
For some words she decided to keep for him
Some words are just between them…
And those were the words that mattered most.
Dear martyr I saw in stone,
They wrote your death sentence
But I wrote you sentences on my bones,
I dreamt of a country for you
I dreamt that you would be in it
But all that’s left of you is stone.
Bracelets cuddling hands;
Hands that wrote on papers
The future of tomorrow.
Dear martyr I saw in her eyes,
You are safe there;
But it is very dangerous in my mind.
You have drowned in her tears
Rested upon her eye lashes,
You swam your way in between
Her wavy hair,
You have held her hands
With mugs of warm tea.
Dear martyr I fumbled on my papers,
My papers will not fade away,
My words will collapse on buildings
Destroying walls they have built to hide the truth
Unwiring bombs they have planted
As they try rewire our minds;
My voice will be ours
And your voice will rest.
For your place is in the vacancies
Between every piece
Of a bracelet
That had you
Written all over.
Praggya Joshi May 2018
Something about your love feels shady
Something about your love feels like neon lights
Drunken kisses
hurtful slurred confessions
Seeing the wrinkles of your chapped lips
Colored with a shade darker than my lipstick
Shattered heart
broken trust
Countless shots of alcohol burning my throat
To rewire my brain
So it would justify your actions
And lull me to forgive you again
Something about your love makes me feel like
I would live in a perpetual state of hangover
Of your memories
When you would have moved on
Without looking back at me even once
Something about your love smells
Malodorous
Horribly wrong
I won't fall in love with you at all
jdmaraccini Aug 2013
Divine Minds Transcend

Take a deep breath
are you ready to hack reality
Lay down and close your eyes
this is going to be amazing
Are you ready
ready to breathe into a cosmic smack down
and plunge into the great divide
Get rattled
Get shattered
Get snatched up from life
then drift into the glowing maze
a place to laugh and cry
Minds rewire during lunar flight
the blue monkey will grin from ear to ear
Strike a pose for your third eye
then return you back to life
© JDMaraccini 2013
Hayleigh Jan 2016
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And excerpt of one of my poems, for all those who are suffering or who know someone that is suffering. There is always hope.
mûre Oct 2013
You were the greatest neuronal reorganization to ever happen,
of course I don't know who I am anymore.

What was plastic seems changed to stone in a gargoyle brain and beneath a microscope the shimmering glia spell out your name over and over in little green lights, fossilizing the neurons that say:

Him.

The earth has an edge. Nobody wants to fall off.

So call me Homer, because the gods themselves could not convince me my situation's a sphere there's far too much fear in this flattened plane that understands only primitive desires and just wants you near.

Everyone knows the romanced brain could be mistaken for a ******* addict's.

But perhaps if you look more closely into my eyes you will see my irises have turned stormy, that cyclones of energy are becoming patterns that scribble and scribble arcane suggestions for a new cartography. A new story. A new being.

Supplies needed:
One strong pencil.
Enough oxytocin to unlearn an addiction.

Enough optimism to overcome an affliction, my diction is code for the way you kissed me and it underlines every sentence like the way a voice rises when asking a question.

I have so many questions.

And even though the notion of who I will be when I am not you terrifies me, like Cathy and Heathcliff I will not be doomed to roam the moors, already I know there's endlessly more, and with or without you the best is yet to come. Just as they say. No, I don't know what's in store. But I think that's okay.

Turn golden, Grey Matter, light up 'til you burn.

Reboot.
Restart.
Rewire.

*Relearn.
A primitive attempt at beat poetry.
Tyler Zempel Dec 2018
The Historian

Rain falls steadily, wind torments the trees, thunder cracks the sky and lightening dancing paints the earth as I pull up and park outside of my boss’s home.
Tonight, is not a good night to be caught outside on a roam.
A positive note, my boss’s house has a front door made out of chrome.
His front yard is littered with creepy gnomes.

My wife gives me a look wondering why we are here and questioning my sanity.
I reassure her my boss is a good man and has a heart filled with love by Christianity.
She tells me believing in a mystical being is a form of insanity.
I tell her to stop with the blasphemy,
my boss is a good man whom has never uttered a single profanity.
My boss is better than both of us single handily.
Three months ago, he hired me into his company after a long period of unemployment and has ever since treated me like family.
He has exceeded all of my former bosses combined actually.
My wife has no need to worry, she needs to get over the delusional fantasy
she’s playing over and over again in her head callously.

I walk with my wife hand in hand up to the front door and knock.
My wife frowns at me and tells me we don’t belong on this block.
My boss invited us for dinner, we won’t be turning that down,
besides, he’s the only person I can truly call a friend in this town.
He picked me up from the ashes and filled my life with hope.
A few more days of struggle and hardship and I’m afraid you would have found me hanging from a rope.
This man saved my life in my most dire time of need.
We owe him more than we can ever pay, even if my wife may not agree.

My boss answers the door with a friendly hello and a warm smile.
I look at my wife and smile to show her she has no reason to be hostile.
***** needs to loosen up and enjoy the night,
but she’s put off by the fact that we are people of color and my boss is white.
Racist ******* she needs to get over because there is no place for it here,
or I will pierce her heart and soul with a slanders venom laced spear.

We walk inside where I immediately notice a large collection of historical artifacts.
Based on the outside, I was expecting an interior with a bit more pomp and circumstance.
Old flags and pictures line the interior.
Still, my home feels rather inferior.

“Thank you for coming tonight Antonio.
Dinner will be ready shortly.
If you don’t mind, allow me to show you a couple rooms of my beautiful home.
Outside of work, things work a little differently deep down in my dome.
I’m an history fanatic and have a large collection of historical artifacts.
My collection is so massive I often feel like I’ve gone slightly manic.
Here, follow me and I’ll give you a brief tour of a couple rooms.
I promise these rooms are fun to be in and are nothing like a tomb.”

We walk into a room where I discover it contains a large collection of American Revolutionary War artifacts.
They are many pictures hanging on the wall, each with a plague underneath it explaining some facts.
George Washington,
Thomas Jefferson,
Benjamin Franklin,
John Adams,
Thomas Hutchinson
Joseph Brant,
along with Thomas Paine and his common sense.
There are old fire arms, books, clothing and flags.
I’m sure all of these items costed a pretty little price tag.

I exit the room and walk into the next room to discover…
A **** themed room and dedication to the holocaust.
My wife walks in behind me, I can feel her heart skip a few beats.
She stares at me and gives me a glare that’s not so nice.
There is a large picture of Adolf ****** hanging on the wall.
I swallow my spit, take a deep breath as my nerves act up and fear begins to crawl
up my spinal cord.
There are many more rooms left in this house, but after this room I no longer feel a need to explore.
Multiple **** flags pollute the room.
This room is a lot to take in and consume.
My boss (Nathan Kline) has written speeches of Adolf ****** framed and hung on the wall.
I’m not sure how anyone would react to this room except with appall.

“Antonio, I see you found my **** artifact room.
The look on your face is concerning to me and I admit that this room can be a lot to consume,
but it’s not to be taken in a negative way.
I’m a history nut, both good history and the bad, what else can I say?
What the ****’s and ****** did were terrible and beyond words and this room is not to honor them.
This room is to preserve this part of our history, as bad as it is, so we learn from it and don’t make the same mistake ever again, that’s the place of my heart this room is coming from.
Listen, you guys must be starving, what do you say we go eat some delicious food and talk about some brighter topics?
Maybe you can tell me about some of your interests and hobbies and teach me about a topic in which I’m a novice.”
My wife looks at me, a fire burning in her eyes.
Once we leave here, she’s either going to rip me apart or break down and cry.
She forces a smile, grabs my arm and tells me it’s time to join our host for dinner.
She knows how to hide displeasure and fake kindness, she’s no beginner.

We follow Nathan to the dining room to discover an older gentleman already seated at the table.
He radiates a warm smile in our direction, he seems rather graceful.

“Antonio, Katrina, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to world renowned neurosurgeon, Dr. James Allen Blake.
I invited him here tonight to enjoy this wonderful feast we are about to share that’s center pieced by a one of a kind steak.
Dr. Blake and I have been friends for many years.
He knows all of my darkest secrets, all of my loves and fears.”

“Antonio, Katrina, it’s my pleasure the meet the two of you.
I am a neurosurgeon, that part is true,
but what Nathan has neglected to tell you is…I’m retired!
Just recently actually and now I’m trying to find new activities to do to fill all of my new found free time that I’ve acquired rather undesired.
This dinner is a celebration of my long career and also a celebration of making new friends,
so, cheers to the two of you and thank you for joining us here tonight.”
We shake Dr. Burke’s hand then take a seat at the table ready to eat.
I’m glad to hear we are having steak, it’s my favorite meat.
A gentleman of color walks in from out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of the finest wine.
His eyes are cold, he doesn’t smile, I wonder if he’s mentally fine.
He pours the four of us a glass of wine then departs without saying a word.
Do I bring up his demeanor with Nathan or do I defer?
**** it, I’ll ask.
I want to know why his face looks like he just got done surviving doomsday.

“Not the friendliest person is he,” I mention nodding in the direction of the man from the kitchen.

“That’s just how Robert is, it takes him awhile to warm up to new people.
Once he opens up you will realize his heart is full of love and not evil.
Besides, he is the best cook I have ever met.
I made his acquaintance during a time when he was working 60 hours a week and still struggling to pay rent.
I went out eat at this run-down restaurant over on 9th and hilltop and the food was fantastic.
Honestly, I was expecting it to taste like plastic.
I was so impressed that I asked the waitress if I could talk with the cook.
He came out, I told him how great his food was.  He thanked me then told me that no matter how hard he worked there, every day he was still broke.
I made him an offer to come cook dinner for me five nights a week and he accepted and walked out the restaurant right then and there with me.
When he walked out of that place, it was like a giant weight was lifted off of him and suddenly he was free.
He started cooking for me the very next day and has been here ever since.
He may have been taken for granted at that restaurant, but here he’s treated like a prince.
Sure, he’s a bit rough around the edges but he’s a good man.
Taking care of him like he takes care of me is my plan.
Now that we have wine, how about a toast.
Here is to my new friends Antonio and Katrina, to you Dr. Burke and to our wonderful cook…cheers!”

Katrina and I take a big sip of the wine then set the glass down.
The wine is good enough to serve to the royal crown.
Nathan and James sit their glasses down without taking a drink.
That’s strange…I begin to think.
I go to ask why they didn’t take a drink but begin to feel light headed.
Katrina looks at me frightful, eyes cold blooded.
She tells me she doesn’t feel well, stands up to go to the bathroom but collapses and falls hard to the floor.
I go to get up to help her but I’m suddenly brought down to all fours.
I crawl over to her as Nathan appears over us.
He tells us we have something to discuss.

“Antonio, Katrina, please look each other in the eyes.
Take a moment because this is your only chance to say goodbye.
You are about to pass out and when you awake…
well you will no longer be you.
Dr. Burke is going to rewire your brains to make you perfectly obedient slaves for me.
The life you know it is over, you will no longer be free.
You two won’t even recognize each other after this, you will be complete strangers who’s only objective is to serve me without question.
I’m sorry if you feel like this is oppression.
It was actually Dr. Burke’s suggestion
to rewire *******’ brains to make them slaves again.
I must admit, with Robert, it turned out to be a great plan.
With you two, I’m sure it will work just as well.
Well enjoy the last few seconds you have left to dwell.”

I look my wife in the eye and can see the terror that has overcome her.
Never in my wildest imagination did I think something like this would occur.
Nathan treated me like family, but it was all for show.
He will ultimately pay the price for his actions here tonight after he dies and Satan ***** him in the *** while playing a banjo!
I reach out my arm and hold my wife’s hand one final time
as the world around fades to black.

“James, when you are done and have them ready for me, meet me in the master bedroom with them.”
----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------------

I enter the master bedroom the admire the work James has done for me.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you agree?”

Antonio and Katrina appear emotionless and cold.
They are firmly under my control.
I say hello to greet the pair.
They respond with a hello master then bow down and kiss my shoe.

“I’m very happy to have the two of you here.”

“We are here to serve you and satisfy you in every way possible master.”

“Antonio, I would like you to begin cleaning all of the toilets in the house using a toothbrush and cleaner.”
He promptly agrees and departs to do just that, “thank you Antonio I love your demeanor.
Katrina, you sure are you cute little thing.
What would you do to please your king?”

“Anything you wish sir; your happiness is all I care about.”

“That is the correct answer Katrina, now how about you get a little bit more comfortable and take your clothes off.”

Katrina immediately stirps down to nothing and stands **** in front of me.
This is the way I always want her to be…
Naked and pleasing me in my bed.
I hope she gives great head.
Don’t patronage me for this.
Washington, Jefferson and all of our forefathers had slaves and procreated with the females.
They had many children with them.
Katrina will provide me with many of my own.
She is a fine little specimen.
Nice tight body, firm ***, perky ****, she’s going to be a fun ride.

“Get in bed Katrina and start ******* yourself I’ll be right there to make love to you.
Thank you for everything you have done here James, I can’t ever express my gratitude in the appropriate way.”

“Well when the time comes for you to return the favor I will call on you.
As for now, I will leave you be with your new toy so get busy kid!”
Hayleigh Nov 2014
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again, 
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
Lindsey Miller Jun 2012
frantic antics rewire my brain,
almost as if it were never a brain at all—
circuits and switches and copper thread,
my computerized cerebellum, my inorganic head,
as biology becomes machine.

what powers my body,
this metallic monstrosity?
there is no plug, no battery—
only the cogs and gears of a watchmaker's fever dream
and sheer, dumb luck.

because, while they stood around
and waited idly for my parts to rust,
i was killing time in a vacuum,
ignoring the earnest embraces of air and rain.

and thus, here i rest,
with the sound of my own meek ticking
thrumming against these pink asylum walls

but because i stayed awake to tell the tale,
and to rub their sordid noses in the dirt,
i suppose my isolation was worth it.
Jake McPherson Sep 2012
As I walk through the valley I'm the shadow of death,
I keep myself together with every waking breath,
I make it unknown to everyone who I truely am,
no one will every know the emotions I cram.
Some say i don't understand,
That I dont get it,
That I dont understand you,
Well I do, I see you, I know you, I get you,
I've been where you are,
I've walked through the valley and back up again,
I've slept alone with my thoughts in a den,
I thought it would never end.
Day after day,
Year after year,
never shedding one tear,
I stayed strong through the worst,
picked myself up when i was about to burst,
I've let love go when my lust thurst,
I am the shadow in the valley of death,
I look like im the angel of life,
no one needs to see the black cloke i wear,
they just see my smile and short cut hair.
Well groomed, teeth clean, smelling good,
no one relizes there is something below,
a second skin, lying within,
waiting to be let out to show my real self,
but until then the angel of life is here to stay,
to tell you your beautiful and great,
even the shadow inside me knows its not to late,
to show you what I see in you,
to rewire your battered heart,
to give you a new start,
to tell you that your not stupid,
that your funny and cute and deserve cupid,
I'm hear to listen and help,
even though you think I can't
I'm going to try my best,
not as the shadow of death,
but the angel of life,
to give you happiness in every breath.
Amy Grindhouse Jan 2014
I would scale the highest
most decrepit radio towers in the world
the rusted metal crumbling against my feet
Risking electrocution and the constant threat of falling
as I rewire the ancient spiderweb of cabling
so I can hear even the faintest transmission of your voice
I'll clutch a stained and faded photograph of us
The only remainder after most everything digital
dies out in flickers of dormant transistors and dissipated binary
I'll protect it from acidic rain and the grit of persistent dust storms
So little resources left in a continent of incinerated cities
yet this picture of you and I is all I will need to keep moving
When I finally find you
I will fight against all impossible odds and potential ends
I'll walk entire burnt out highways with you just to make one last stand
I will carry you across these deserted wastelands and returning forests
To show that even after the bombs drop
My love belongs to you
There's carollers outside my door
With the dreaded Christmas curse
They sing and sing and sing and sing
But, they only sing ONE verse

They ring the bell beforehand
All stand back and start to sing
I'm gonna do some rewire work
So my doorbell does not ring

They're from the church
They're from the school
They can not sing in tune
I can not wait for Boxing Day
I hope it gets here soon

They sing for cans of goodies
They open up their souls
I just wish they'd learn the whole **** song
Or they'd just all shut their holes

They come out every evening
They come out every day
I bet they've never heard a jingle bell
Or even ridden in a sleigh

Now, I like Christmas Choirs
It's not that I'm a Grinch
But, learn the words before you sing
It really is a cinch

It's a partridge in a pear tree
Not a bird stuck in a bush
These two cent hacks are able
To turn the nicest songs to moosh

Just knock and stand back silent
For three minutes, silent stay
Then I'll give you all ten dollars
So you will all just go away
Axiana Jan 2015
Eyes the color of tiger stones
Whisper to me your song of old
Soft scales, impactful blows
So beautiful
Remind me of your powerful soul
A rising orange sun-glow
Reflects the light just so
I can see the life lines of your skin
Encouraging me to go within
The infinite being that is
Accepting the power I miss
Now, I lift my Self higher
Connect with fire
I align with a desire
To take the ego from its towering spire
And begin to rewire
The thoughts that conspire
To cause me to tire
Before I can muster
The energy to uncover
What I thought I had lost, however
Now I know
Nothing is ever lost forever
I am never alone.
Inspired by my sister's beautiful and intricate Amel Cornsnake. I had a moment where I was gazing into her eyes and this poem just came forth. Apologies for the roughness of it. Thank you all for your support <3
Carrie Porter Dec 2015
..Who’s ana?
Ana…. why, ana is something special.
no one can hear anna or see ana but me.
Anorexia Ana.
My mom say’s i'm ill...and that Ana is the reason i have guilt…
but i still take Ana’s suicide pill.
She say’s skip dinner, you’ll be thinner, skinnier
thinner.
skinnier….how she desired to conspire and let Ana rewire her...but she was too blind to see that shes a liar.
she didnt know, it acquired diet pills and that as her blood spills, she would think she would be like the beverly hill models…
but little did she know, what she was remodeling.
it wasnt enough…
never good enough…
shes had enough… when will she feel like she’s good enough?

skinnier..
thinner…
Ana wants to be the winner, and so far, shes devouring the inner beauty of a teenage girl.
but darling...what she didnt know, that the search for perfection would **** her.
days go by…..she becomes weaker…..people call her a pleasure seeker when they dont see her on the school bleachers.
the teachers worry, and even the preachers in the church of god still nod and pray to god she wont earn a pair of wings too soon.
her scale that whispers “you’re 90...and still not tiny.”
weeks go by, fragile like a antique….while her tiny body i oblique.
shes cold….but shes proud.
shes proud of the gap between her thighs and how her jean size doesnt show her ***** secret that underlies.
she cries, her body shuddering, her hearts fluttering…..shes suffering…
Anna says “keep pushing. if you want to be skinnier, and thinner. slender and bony only.”
the world bowed down thier heads in shame. shame to the family name.
you’ll go to bed hungry tonight,
telling yourself you dont need to eat.
ana’s telling you that you’re fat agian
that you’re imperfect,
from your eyes down to your feet.
you’d think you’d feel beautiful,
because look; you’re finally thin
though your not skinny yet, and you wont be until you see the danger that you are in.
even then it wont be enough,
because beauty is a drug, and addiction is tough…..she refuses to see ana is making her life tough….but she see’s that when the scale drops, ana says “fair enough”
a 15 year old girl with a lifeless 70 pound body, and still doesnt think she has “thea perfect body”.
bony ribs, and a pointy hip bones…..“she looks like a bag of bones”
as if sticks and stones would describe her mental break downs ….
but she never makes a sound…. Ana says “now you’re hell bound. dont make a sound ….now you belong in a hole in the ground…..ive win and you’re mine now.”
she called Ana, her friend. she was one of the few. she saw in her things that no one knew.

but before she knew, when she knew she couldnt break through,
when she couldnt pull through,
she withdrew her cold poor soul ….and was now in gods view.
i have anorexia....And for once, are telling people....what anorexia really is.
I hope you've heard my love hiding inside the melody that Donny Hathaway plays
From every poetic note folded amongst the ivory keys plucked
This heart writes light like butterfly wings fluttering in flight
But it's heavy when I barely see you
So, my vision grows old like my wishes of us
Weakened only by fleeting time
Yet. lengthened
Like desires that chain-link hopes to the wildest dreams along far streams
You could say I'm always in your hair
Wherever the strands flow, I follow its fibers feverishly
Strung along by song of nature so strong, that
I'm in a Pinocchio-state, made to move by your voice
A puppet parroting psalms to praise your personage
In the richness of your favor
In the hour of knowing
It's been a minute
And time is indeed money
Every second counts when I'm around your golden smile
I wish I could play this track forever
Or rewire my brain to rehearse every one of your favorite verses
Be the B-side of your cassette
And rewind to the best moments
Unwind together.

Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
Apollo Hayden Feb 2017
I don't want no mediocre love,
give me more of a 1 corinthians 13.
I need to know you'll draw nearer when heavy or small storms come,
not lose your sh*t, get scared of the thunder and leave.
See, love is a learning thing and we'll need water for it to grow,
we can't just plant our seed, walk away and expect it to grow on its own.
We've gotta clear the pathways, rewire and connect inside our domes, because without communication we'll both feel as if we're all alone.
But if forever can be seen within the roots, then no storm will ever be hard to get through.
I said it's all about forever, it's all about the roots.
If they're deep enough then there's no storm that will be too rough, and love will not be moved.
So give me that 1 corinthians 13 and we'll till the ground and build from a strong foundation.
Any other type just won't feel right, and will only be wasting our time.
Lover of Words Oct 2012
I am a girl.
See that. A girl.
I'm not a boy.
I got curves and long hair.
Nothing too scary…
Then why the hell won't you talk to me?
If that is what you want, me, then come on boys,
I am waiting. Patiently, wanting to be pursued with every bit of your energy,
I'll give you hints and lead you on, but come on,
It aint that hard to admit you like me,
I mean I may not feel the same,
But seriously,
This is not funny…
You can't call me pretty and then just do nothing,
No, don't walk away yet,
***** into my heart and then not commit,
What is this?
Did your mom's not teach you manners?
Playing your evil games with my lover hazy brain.
Admit it!
***, thats only what you want!
But please, I am not ******…
Neither am I that easy.
Break into my heart, and then rewire my veins,
What? Are you completely insane?
I desire a partnership!
God! Is that so **** deranged?
But no, your heart's too broken, or you just not that interested,
Please…
I will not press my lips upon yours,
The same old story once again
Shiloh Mar 2016
Remove
Recover
Resolve
Replace
Relocate
Relapse
Rebound
Recycle
R­ewind
Rewire
Relearn
Refund
Rekindle
Resound
Respond
Renegade
Rel­ax
Rinse
Repeat.
Wordfreak May 2016
Playing with the heart of another,
Is like crossing the wires on a bomb.
If it results in an explosion,
You're liable for the damage,
And lives lost.
But chances are,
You wont take responsibility,
You'll dodge the blame like most do,
Deny involvement,
And blame the crime on the victim.
Guss Feb 2014
Its time to be left to my own devices
and rewire the circuitry.
Climb to Mt. Un-climbable,
defeat the monster at the top.
I fear only the reaper and respect his wishes
for his claws are scraping at our windows
every time we hit the pillow.
Don’t dive into shallow bodies of waters
and don’t forget to wear your sunscreen.
Bereft by my own unfruitful devices I search for solitude.

I creep through the dank recesses
of my stewing mind.
I search for meaning
to my ceaseless activities.
I grow closer to myself
and I learn to respectfully listen.
I creep, I search, I grow, I learn
and I am my own companion;
Only I will be there for the rest of my battlefield life.
Alliesaurus May 2011
The brain is never too old to learn new tricks.
Like how you eventually mold to every hand you hold,
even if you've never held it before
(especially if you hope to hold it for a long, long time).

Your neurons are always evolving and adapting,
from the first time you open your eyes and your retinas
(oh your retinasandconesandrodsandthereis
SO
MUCH
MORE
goingonbehindthesce­nesthanwegiveitcreditfor)
are pounded by light,
by images,
by focus and abstraction coming into clarity and comprehension.
Did you know that you can sing your way through a stutter?
I wish I could tell that to the heart palpitations
currently coursing through John Doe's ventricles.
But that's besides the point.

Your neurons, the same one you were born with, far fewer that you'll die with,
can rewire themselves.
Tell yourself you're dying enough times,
and maybe your brain will trick itself into living.
rjh Jun 2018
deep in my core, I am as sweet as honey. I have beautiful bouquets inside of me. touch me and i will bloom for you. slice open my midsection and the flowers will curl around my ribcage. crack open my skull to find incredible thoughts growing as they form. separate my legs and watch me open petals of the prettiest hues.

my petals, my nectar, my thorns. all yours.

selfish lovers have picked my petals off, crush me at the stem of my core. I begin to wilt; I slowly rot. they are repulsed. my beauty turns to death and they turn the other way. quick to blame, they fail to notice it was their hands to taint me.

flowers require delicate hands and the nourishing sunshine to survive. when kept in the dark, they wither. how could you expect me to be any different?

if I could rewire this brain of mine -- this body of mine -- I would much rather fill myself with thorns; poison, barbed wire to wrap my bones.
but I am soft, I am sunshine and nature divine. I bloom and wilt and recreate myself time after time. it takes more than ravenous hands to stop me from growing.
constructive criticism welcome! i've had bad writer's block for a while so if this ***** feel free to tell me. if it doesnt i might do a local live show to perform it, so !!
Hayleigh Jul 2014
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.

And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.

And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.

I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.

And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.

And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.

And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.

And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.

And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.

And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Christa H Jan 2014
You are radiating fake fluorescence.
Unplug yourself
Let me rewire you from your troubles.

A reprogramming, perhaps?
I can handle that.
Take a breath
Clear your head from the junk
Sometimes it feels better to restart.

Now learn to glow,
not white-hot and harsh,
but from the inside out with the yellows and reds
of love
love
love.

Sweet is the scent of us.
Simultaneous
together
and whole.

Heartbeats in sync
and breaths ticking
together in half time,
we collide during separate measures
and reunite at the end of the piece.

In this crescendo of pixels,
you are the final note
that chooses to hold on
a little longer than it should.
Michael Humbert Nov 2014
This grip remains ever tight,
I’ve ended relationships because I refused to entertain long distance again,
I ended a toxic relationship with a flaxen beauty,
Because I refused to accept her brokenness,
Because I refused to try and fix anyone ever again

And I’m not alone because I haven’t had chances,
These were conscious sabotages,
Because I refused to settle for less than love

I will not settle for love that doesn’t throttle me,
Or drive me to ***** from anxiety,
I won’t settle for love that doesn’t set my skin on fire,
Or consume my thoughts like a pathology,
I won’t settle for love that I’m not terrified to lose,
Because I wouldn’t be able to breathe without it

I won’t settle for a love that I wouldn’t write poetry about until I’m ******* dead,
I won’t settle for a love that doesn’t make an addict out of me again,
I won’t settle for a love that doesn’t shove you away,
And I won’t settle for a love that doesn’t grip me as hard as your memory does

I won’t settle because nothing less will do,
Nothing less can rewire me,
Nothing less can fill this chasm in my heart,
And maybe I won’t ever stop loving you,
But I deserve nothing less than to love anew
Amour de Monet Dec 2014
I've met so many with switches
I love them with all I have
I light them on fire, I cater to their
Every want, their every need, I
Polish them until they shine, I
Rewire them and untangle their crosses and label them so
Meticulously
And things get a little overloaded
A breaker trips and they read the
Labels and find my name
stare at me, analyze me, and then
Flip their switch
Shut it all down
And walk on
Noel Irion Jul 2011
beauty is in essence nothing more than acceptance.
when one acknowledges beauty, one
takes a picture from that precipice,
tends to that angel's every need,
for nothing lasts long if you let it go,
hold onto beauty as long as you please.

but sometimes you see beauty in your mirror,
the slightest reflection makes the situation clearer.
eyes like fire, jaw sharp as stone,
its a shame we cant rewire ourselves to avoid medusa's clone.

— The End —