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"shapeshifted" poems
Dysfunctional behind closed doors Shapeshifted the lovesick ***** She'll touch you timid, trembling hands Scared that you arent coming back Digs through drawers and under the sink Searching for her missing link A cigarette will do for now At least it isn't puppy chow Shameless in her actions past Comfortable in coming last Theres more than at the surface level And everybody's personal hell Clove hitch knot around her waist She followed at a steady pace Wrapped around your pinky finger She mimicked all you seemed to give her What her eyes can do to you Back of my throat still tastes like glue What a sullen memory Of what that **** can do to me She bites her nails and fingertips Terrified that she might slip A clumsy dance that she once knew Of falling into penance due Twirl your hair and crack a smile This one's gonna take awhile Different or the same old same old They've paid for it in pounds of fools gold Chasing after fading dreams Tripping up on memories Will she make it on her own A concept simple, yet unknown A reunion of the sweetest kind Desperate to escape the time Spirits burn an empty soul But never can they make one whole Echoing within her chest "You have always been the best" She sips and stares across the room Shadowed by her phantom groom Cut off from hearts nourishment All on her own cursed to lament The choices that she didn't make And chances that she didn't take A sigh inside an empty mind A drop of water off the tide She's buried next to clementines Roots entangle, synchronize What a pretty little mess Of despondancy and tenderness And she's still waiting underground For a love once frolicked, love once found
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
st. michael
Dysfunctional behind closed doors Shapeshifted the lovesick ***** She'll touch you timid, trembling hands Scared that you arent coming back Digs through drawers and under the sink Searching for her missing link A cigarette will do for now At least it isn't puppy chow Shameless in her actions past Comfortable in coming last Theres more than at the surface level And everybody's personal hell Clove hitch knot around her waist She followed at a steady pace Wrapped around your pinky finger She mimicked all you seemed to give her What her eyes can do to you Back of my throat still tastes like glue What a sullen memory Of what that **** can do to me She bites her nails and fingertips Terrified that she might slip A clumsy dance that she once knew Of falling into penance due Twirl your hair and crack a smile This one's gonna take awhile Different or the same old same old They've paid for it in pounds of fools gold Chasing after fading dreams Tripping up on memories Will she make it on her own A concept simple, yet unknown A reunion of the sweetest kind Desperate to escape the time Spirits burn an empty soul But never can they make one whole Echoing within her chest "You have always been the best" She sips and stares across the room Shadowed by her phantom groom Cut off from hearts nourishment All on her own cursed to lament The choices that she didn't make And chances that she didn't take A sigh inside an empty mind A drop of water off the tide She's buried next to clementines Roots entangle, synchronize What a pretty little mess Of despondancy and tenderness And she's still waiting underground For a love once frolicked, love once found
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52
Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith Deadlock stubbornly cracked Divide intensified with fact so backed ****** is truth, lost memory's wraith "Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty To nothing has my life compared And as most humans, no heartache spared No limits to its reverence and constancy As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High Omnipotent theories to query Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri Reasonably these to view before bye-bye Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
Crossroads To Himalayas
I scoured countless streets For an exorcist to rid me Of your ghost. The neon charlatans Shapeshifted through The spicy summer sweat In forms of wasted witchery And white hot shots of snake oil. Each a silver bullet, Swarming upon me as vultures To peck the stains of yesteryear That lingers like the promise Of cool autumn air. And now that all evenings have shrunk, And all shameful charlatans revealed, I find myself once again Dancing with your ghost; A man haunted.
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Haunted
Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith Deadlock stubbornly cracked Divide intensified with fact so backed ****** is truth, lost memory's wraith "Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty To nothing has my life compared And as most humans, no heartache spared No limits to its reverence and constancy As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High Omnipotent theories to query Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri Reasonably these to view before bye-bye Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 9:06 AM UTC
Crossroads To Himalayas
At nineteen, I told you my deepest darkest secret. I thought I could rely on you to hold my hand through the pain. Figured the fact we knew each other for so long meant we had a bond. At nineteen, I told you he ***** me. At nineteen, you shapeshifted. You morphed into a volcano. You became explosive with rage. You told me it was my fault. That I had to make it up to you. At nineteen, I told you more truths. At nineteen, you refused to believe Or acknowledge, understand, Or even think for a second that he tried to **** me. I guess that was something only you were allowed to do. But it’s all true. The years I’ve spent walking through hell. From both of you. I know you said to never compare you to him. But you’re much the same. That’s why you were so afraid when in a sentence I spoke both your names.
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Apr 9, 2022
Apr 9, 2022 at 12:31 AM UTC
This was only the beginning of what only got worse.
I asked for the truth, and you shapeshifted to sleuth, crawling on your belly, you simply misconstrue an irrefutable, objective verity. Tried and true, misunderstanding what is out of your view. Standing and demanding but never understanding the variable, to which not all lives, will play out the same way.
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Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 10:59 PM UTC
Lost To View
I am not scared of the dark anymore. I no longer have the need to check every closet and corner of our home before I feel safe and certain that no one else is here. Sometimes I even leave and don't bother to lock the door behind me. And maybe I'm becoming careless. Or maybe my fears have simply shapeshifted into nameless beings; feelings rather than things. I am afraid of losing you. I am no longer afraid of the dark, but now when the phone rings, before I even have time to think, I am worrying that it is the call. The call saying that something terrible has happened to you. The apologies. Strangers saying your name and me falling to my knees. I am no longer compulsive about investigating the possibility of an intruder in our home, rather now I am compulsive about investigating all the possibilities in which you never make it back home to me. The thoughts fall through the cracks in my mind like quicksand and I am left standing with a blank look in my eyes. I am obsessive over every detail, I am consumed with every second of time we have left together, it's all I can think about. And I no longer lock our front door. Maybe I am careless, or maybe I am leaving it open for the possibility that at any given moment, you might come walking through it, as nonchalantly as businessmen do at 5pm on a Tuesday. Regular, normal, routine.
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Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
Love knows not of distance, but I do
i trace the fire escape diagram i hear a nurse say my exam room in a voice that is a hushed yell and then i shape shifted i became the door i heard the results of the urinalysis the medical staff murmur the door that was not just a door because it was also the other side it was the end of ever feeling normal and then i shapeshifted i became the insulin vial into shaking milky contents before drawing up an addiction to survival of marks into fat instead of veins of hoarding life in the glass walls of my benevolent cage and then i shapeshifted i became the doctor who saw a 13 year old girl shaking withdrawal symptoms from high glucose promising false hopes and faith healing promising a cure soon promising god's love that would never arrive and then i shapeshifted i became the faulty pancreas under attack from a faulty immune system giving it my very last push of life i really thought i was doing the right thing i didn't know i could **** the girl and then i shapeshifted i became the floor cleaner acrid and masking the smell of the previous occupant pressing against the girls face, etching myself into her skin becoming the fear in her trembling hand and then i shapeshifted i became my mother holding her daughter slapping her cheek rubbing glucose gel into her gums willing her to live and then i shapeshifted and i became a thin, pale girl who just wanted to leave the hospital but after a diagnosis the hospital never leaves you you return for every checkup or emergency or surgery and you never know when the end will be but you know will die in a hospital i just wanted to be the that girl who did not count out 13 and half grapes like all the other kids would never even think about i just wanted to be the girl on the other side of the door who didn't know the diagnosis who knew the way out tracing an escape by heart
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May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 11:21 AM UTC
-- the day my body first betrays me (after Selina Foster)
i trace the fire escape diagram i hear a nurse say my exam room in a voice that is a hushed yell and then i shape shifted i became the door i heard the results of the urinalysis the medical staff murmur the door that was not just a door because it was also the other side it was the end of ever feeling normal and then i shapeshifted i became the insulin vial into shaking milky contents before drawing up an addiction to survival of marks into fat instead of veins of hoarding life in the glass walls of my benevolent cage and then i shapeshifted i became the doctor who saw a 13 year old girl shaking withdrawal symptoms from high glucose promising false hopes and faith healing promising a cure soon promising god's love that would never arrive and then i shapeshifted i became the faulty pancreas under attack from a faulty immune system giving it my very last push of life i really thought i was doing the right thing i didn't know i could **** the girl and then i shapeshifted i became the floor cleaner acrid and masking the smell of the previous occupant pressing against the girls face, etching myself into her skin becoming the fear in her trembling hand and then i shapeshifted i became my mother holding her daughter slapping her cheek rubbing glucose gel into her gums willing her to live and then i shapeshifted and i became a thin, pale girl who just wanted to leave the hospital but after a diagnosis the hospital never leaves you you return for every checkup or emergency or surgery and you never know when the end will be but you know will die in a hospital i just wanted to be the that girl who did not count out 13 and half grapes like all the other kids would never even think about i just wanted to be the girl on the other side of the door who didn't know the diagnosis who knew the way out tracing an escape by heart
Continue reading...
53
while millions of eyes were on the skies, I looked to the flat earth: there, shadows shapeshifted, and like scalloped creatures crawled they were but ephemera, photon art, of which my silhouette was a part: under sacred penumbra, which augured other light and darkness I will never see
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
looking down to find up