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Cloraphoba Feb 2018
Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.

Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.

Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.

Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.

Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.

Only a single star remains in the entire universe to support life to roughly twenty seven trillion passengers on the USS Star Eater. The Star Eater was governed by Captain Frederick Patterson. He has thirty seven years to find the solution to this problem with the help of an Artificial Intelligence known as Galactic Overseer Digitus otherwise known as the acronym G.O.D, given to it because of its mass intelligence and processing power.
But the machine could not find a solution to this problem, it spent many years ciphering a solution but it never found it. Because only a human knew the answer.

Is what was hoped, Captain Frederick never found a solution. Many years passed and the last star was almost dead. It was predicted to go Nova in a matter of days. Out of desperation, Captain Frederick order their core reactors to keep their AI, God, alive so he could perhaps find a solution. That was the final order he gave before suffocating and freezing to death.

The USS Star Eater laid dormant with no signs off life besides the presence of the God. Years passed and nothing happened, still dormant. Finally after one hundred and thirty two days, the God found a solution. God put it’s work together and said only four words as he created a new world,
“Let there be light!” And a world within their world was created. A world on the atomic size with enough energy to sustain it until their world could form a find a solution to the death of the world.  And they finally found the solution.
Anita Feb 2019
I have been single for a long time,
I know how it feels, soft, warm, comfort.
I am allowed to speak my mind, do what I want,
hurt feelings, Mend others.
I knew just what to do, and all my limits.

When I met you, I didn't know what to think,
Body to big for your age,
I thought you were older, though you were mature,
You are funny, charming, and handsome in your own way.

'You have my humor' I thought with amazement,
I never knew that someone could be so much like me.
In an unfamiliar world, I thought you could pave the way.
With the warmth that burns to the touch.

We found each other together through peer pressure,
It was enough of a push, and through our honeymoon phase, I was happy...

But then the pushing kept coming, they kept pushing, keep pushing, "Kiss him" "Love him" "Want him"
These thoughts, these feelings, they aren't my own.
These thoughts, these wants, there's someone else's.

Its too suffocating, these efforts, being single made me forget how to try.
Your feelings, these kiss's, your efforts, I don't want them.
I don't need them, they are too 'Suffocating.

I'm trying to pave the way to my future, all while taking a tiny glimpse of the past.
I want to try, but it's all moving too fast.

You say you are depressed, so desperate to love, so desperate to be loved.
But maybe I just can't give you that love.
Do you even know what 'love' means?

I'm away for a week, for my birthday, but you just can't take it,
Everyday 'I'm depressed because you weren't here'
and everyday 'U wanna break my heart or something?'

But then the pushing kept coming, they kept pushing, keep pushing, "Kiss him" "Love him" "Want him"
These thoughts, these feelings, they aren't my own.
These thoughts, these wants, there's someone else's.

I wanna enjoy myself, I'm the type of person that can.
You don't want to enjoy yourself, you're the type of person that can't.

This is just so suffocating, your presence is suffocating.
My now, current, boyfriend is being a bit 'too' clingy. I guess I get it, but the novelty has worn off and It's just getting to be too much. I think I expected too much from him.
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
Amanda Niemann Dec 2016
can't breathe
body burning
chest on fire
heart in flames
no oxygen
no breathing
no sounds
no speaking
nothing but
a heart barely beating
burning hot
burning cold
then just cold
stone cold
numb
frozen
suffocating
not from lack of air
from lack of love
lack of life
lack of will to live
lack of happiness
a puzzle in which
i do not fit
suffocating
but not by pillow
not by blanket
not by choice
the things i cannot control
are the things
that are slowly killing me
suffocating me
no one to help me
no one to stop me
no one to save me
no one
just me
1969 Hartford art school is magnet for exceedingly intelligent over-sensitive under-achievers alluring freaks congenital creeps and anyone who cannot cut it in straight world it is about loners dreamers stoners clowns cliques of posers competing to dress draw act most outrageous weird wonderful classrooms clash in diversity of needs some students get it right off while others require so much individual attention one girl constantly raises her hand calls for everything to be repeated explained creativity is treated as trouble and compliance to instruction rewarded most of faculty are of opinion kids are not capable of making original artwork teachers discourage students from dream of becoming well-known until they are older more experienced only practiced skilled artists are competent to create ‘real art’ defined by how much struggle or multiple meanings weave through the work Odysseus wants to make magic boxes without knowing or being informed of Joseph Cornell one teacher tells him you think you’re going to invent some new color the world has never seen? you’re just some rowdy brat from the midwest with a lot of crazy ideas and no evidence of authenticity another teacher warns you’re nothing more than a bricoleur! Odysseus questions what’s a bricoleur teacher informs a rogue handyman who haphazardly constructs from whatever is immediately available Odysseus questions what’s wrong with that? teacher answers it’s low-class folk junk  possessing no real intellectual value independently he reads Marshall McLuhan’s “The Medium Is The Message” and “The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci” he memorizes introductory remark of Leonardo’s “i must do like one who comes last to the fair and can find no other way of providing for himself than by taking all the things already seen by others and not taken by reason of their lesser value” Odysseus dreams of becoming accomplished important artist like Robert Rauschenberg Jasper Johns Andy Warhol he dreams of being in eye of hurricane New York art scene he works for university newspaper and is nicknamed crashkiss the newspaper editor is leader in student movement and folk singer who croons “45 caliber man, you’re so much more than our 22, but there’s so many more of us than you” Odysseus grows mustache wears flower printed pants vintage 1940’s leather jacket g.i. surplus clothes he makes many friends his gift for hooking up with girls is uncanny he is long haired drug-crazed hippie enjoying popularity previously unknown to him rock bands play at art openings everyone flirts dances gets ****** lots of activism on campus New York Times dubs university of Hartford “Berkeley of the east coast” holding up ******* in peace sign is subversive in 1969 symbol of rebellion youth solidarity gesture against war hawks rednecks corporate America acknowledgment of potential beyond materialistic self-righteous values of status quo sign of what could be in universe filled with incredible possibilities he moves in with  painting student one year advanced named Todd Whitman Todd has curly blond hair sturdy build wire rimmed glasses impish smile gemini superb draftsman amazing artist Todd emulates Francisco de Goya and Albrecht Durer Todd’s talent overshadows Odysseus’s Todd’s dad is accomplished professor at distinguished college in Massachusetts to celebrate Odysseus’s arrival Todd cooks all day preparing spaghetti dinner when Odysseus arrives home tripping on acid without appetite Todd is disappointed Odysseus runs down to corner store buys large bottle of wine returns to house Todd is eating spaghetti alone they get drunk together then pierce each other’s ears with needles ice wine cork pierced ears are outlaw style of bad *** bikers like Hell’s Angels Todd says you are a real original Odys and funny too Odysseus asks funny, how? Todd answers you are one crazy ******* drop acid whenever you want smoke **** then go to class this is fun tonight Odys getting drunk and piercing our ears Odysseus says yup i’m having a good time too Todd and Odysseus become best friends Odysseus turns Todd on to Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” and “Ariel” then they both read Ted Hughes “Crow” illustrated with Leonard Baskin prints Todd turns Odysseus on to German Expressionist painting art movement of garish colors emotionally violent imagery from 1905-1925 later infuriating Third ***** who deemed the work “degenerate” Odysseus dives into works of Max Beckmann Otto Dix Conrad Felixmulller Barthel Gilles George Grosz Erich Heckel Ernst Ludwig Kirchner Felix Nussbaum Karl *******Rottluff Carl Hofer August Macke Max Peckstein Elfriede Lohse-Wachtler Egon Shiele list goes on in 1969 most parents don’t have money to buy their children cars most kids living off campus either ride bikes or hitchhike to school then back home on weekends often without a penny in their pockets Odysseus and Todd randomly select a highway and hitch rides to Putney Vermont Brattleboro Boston Cape Cod New York City or D.C. in search of adventure there is always trouble to be found curious girls to assist in Georgetown Odysseus sleeps with skinny girl with webbed toes who believes he is Jesus he tries to dissuade her but she is convinced

Toby Mantis is visiting New York City artist at Hartford art school he looks like huskier handsomer version of Ringo Starr and women dig him he builds stretchers and stretches canvases for Warhol lives in huge loft in Soho on Broadway and Bleeker invites Odysseus to come down on weekends hang out Toby takes him to Max’s Kansas City Warhol’s Electric Circus they wander all night into morning there are printing companies longshoremen gays in Chelsea Italians in West Village hippies playing guitars protesting the war in Washington Square all kinds of hollering crazies passing out fliers pins in Union Square Toby is hard drinker Odysseus has trouble keeping up  he pukes his guts out number of times Odysseus is *** head not drinker he explores 42nd Street stumbles across strange exotic place named Peep Show World upstairs is large with many **** cubicles creepy dudes hanging around downstairs is astonishing there are many clusters of booths with live **** girls inside girls shout out hey boys come on now pick me come on boys there are hundreds of girls from all over the world in every conceivable size shape race he enters dark stall  puts fifty cents in coin box window screen lifts inside each cluster are 6 to 10 girls either parading or glued to a window for $1 he is allowed to caress kiss their ******* for $2 he is permitted to probe their ****** or *** for $10 girl reaches hand into darkened stall jerks him off tall slender British girl thrills him the most she says let me have another go at your dickey Odysseus spends all his money ******* 5 times departing he notices men from every walk of life passing through wall street stockbrokers executives rednecks mobsters frat boys tourists fat old bald guys smoking thick smelly cigars Toby Mantis has good-looking girlfriend named Lorraine with long brown hair Toby Lorraine and Odysseus sit around kitchen table Odysseus doodles with pencil on paper Toby spreads open Lorraine’s thighs exposing her ****** to Odysseus Lorraine blushes yet permits Toby to finger her Odysseus thinks she has the most beautiful ****** he has ever seen bulging pelvic bone brown distinctive bush symmetric lips Toby and Lorraine watch in amusement as Odysseus gazes intently Tony mischievously remarks you like looking at that ***** don’t you? Odysseus stares silently begins pencil drawing Lorraine’s ****** his eyes darting back and forth following day Lorraine seduces Odysseus while Toby is away walks out **** from shower she is few years older her body lean with high ******* she directs his hands mouth while she talks with someone on telephone it is strange yet quite exciting Odysseus is in awe of New York City every culture in the world intermingling democracy functioning in an uncontrollable managed breath millions of people in motion stories unraveling on every street 24 hour spectacle with no limits every conceivable variety of humanity ******* in same air Odysseus is bedazzled yet intimidated

Odysseus spends summer of 1970 at art colony in Cummington Massachusetts it is magical time extraordinary place many talented eccentric characters all kinds of happenings stage plays poetry readings community meals volleyball after dinner volleyball games are hilarious fun he lives alone in isolated studio amidst wild raspberries in woods shares toilet with field mouse no shower he reads Jerzy Kosinski’s “Painted Bird” then “Being There” then “Steps” attractive long haired girl named Pam visits community for weekend meets Odysseus they talk realize they were in first grade together at Harper amazing coincidence automatic ground for “we need to have *** because neither of us has seen each other since first grade” she inquires where do you sleep? Todd hitches up from Hartford to satisfy curiosity everyone sleeps around good-looking blue-eyed poet named Shannon Banks from South Boston tells Odysseus his ******* is not big enough for kind of ******* she wants but she will **** him off that’s fine with him 32 year old poet named Ellen Morrissey from Massachusetts reassures him ******* is fine Ellen is beginning to find her way out from suffocating marriage she has little daughter named Nina Ellen admires Odysseus’s free spirit sees both his possibilities and naïveté she realizes he has crippling family baggage he has no idea he is carrying thing about trauma is as it is occurring victim shrugs laughs to repel shock yet years later pain horror sink in turned-on with new ideas he returns to Hartford art school classes are fun yet confusing he strives to be best drawer most innovative competition sidetracks him Odysseus uses power drill to carve pumpkin on Halloween teachers warn him to stick to fundamentals too much creativity is suspect Todd and he are invited to holiday party Odysseus shows up with Ellen Morrissey driving in her father’s station wagon 2 exceptionally pretty girls flirt with him he is live wire they sneak upstairs he fingers both at same time while they laugh to each other one of the girls Laura invites him outside to do more he follows they walk through falling snow until they find hidden area near some trees Laura lies down lifts her skirt she spreads her legs dense ***** mound he is about to explore her there when Laura looks up sees figure with flashlight following their tracks in snow she warns it’s Bill my husband run for your life! Odysseus runs around long way back inside party grabs a beer pretending he has been there next to Ellen all night few minutes later he sees Laura and Bill return through front door Bill has dark mustache angry eyes Odysseus tells Ellen it is late maybe they should leave soon suddenly Bill walks up to him with beer in hand cracks bottle over his head glass and beer splatter Odysseus jumps up runs out to station wagon Ellen hurriedly follows snow coming down hard car is wedged among many guest vehicles he starts engine locks doors maneuvers vehicle back and forth trying to inch way out of spot Bill appears from party walks to his van disappears from out of darkness swirling snow Bill comes at them wielding large crowbar smashes car’s headlights taillights side mirrors windshield covered in broken glass Ellen ducks on floor beneath glove compartment sobs cries he’s going to **** us! we’re going to die! Odysseus steers station wagon free floors gas pedal drives on back country roads through furious snowstorm in dark of night no lights Odysseus contorts crouches forward in order to see through hole in shattered windshield Ellen sees headlights behind them coming up fast it is Bill in van Bill banging their bumper follows them all the way back to Hartford to Odysseus’s place they run inside call police Bill sits parked van outside across street as police arrive half hour later Bill pulls away next day Odysseus and Ellen drive to Boston to explain to Ellen’s dad what has happened to his station wagon Odysseus stays with Ellen in Brookline for several nights another holiday party she wants to take him along to meet her friends her social circles are older he thinks to challenge their values be outrageous paints face Ellen is horrified cries you can’t possibly do this to me these are my close friends what will they think? he defiantly answers my face is a mask who cares what i look like? man woman creature what does it matter? if your friends really want to know me they’ll need to look beyond the make-up tonight i am your sluttish girlfriend! sometimes Odysseus can be a thoughtless fool

Laura Rousseau Shane files for divorce from Bill she is exceptionally lovely models at art school she is of French descent her figure possessing exotic traits she stands like ballerina with thick pointed ******* copious ***** hair Odysseus is infatuated she frequently dances pursues him Laura says i had the opportunity to meet Bob Dylan once amazed Odysseus questions what did you do? she replies what could i possibly have in common with Bob Dylan? Laura teases Odysseus about being a preppy then lustfully gropes him grabs holds his ***** they devote many hours to ****** intimacy during ******* she routinely reaches her hand from under her buns grasps his testicles squeezing as he pumps he likes that Laura is quite eccentric fetishes over Odysseus she even thrills to pick zits on his back he is not sure if it is truly a desire of hers proof of earthiness or simply expression of mothering Laura has two daughters by Bill Odysseus is in over his head Laura tells Odysseus myth of Medea smitten with love for Jason Jason needs Medea’s help to find Golden Fleece Medea agrees with promise of marriage murders her brother arranges ****** of king who has deprived Jason his inheritance couple is forced into exile Medea bears Jason 2 sons then Jason falls in love with King Creon’s daughter deserts Medea is furious she makes shawl for King Creon’s daughter to wear at her wedding to Jason  shawl turns to flames killing bride Medea murders her own sons by Jason Odysseus goes along with story for a while but Laura wants husband Odysseus is merely scruffy boy with roving eyes Laura becomes galled by Odysseus leaves him for one of his roommates whom she marries then several years later divorces there is scene when Laura tells Odysseus she is dropping him for his roommate he is standing in living room of her house space is painted deep renaissance burgundy there are framed photographs on walls in one photo he is hugging Laura and her daughters under big oak tree in room Laura’s friend Bettina other girl he fingered first night he met Laura at party is watching with arms crossed he drops to floor curls body sobs i miss you so much Laura turns to Bettina remarks look at him men are such big babies he’s pitiful Bettina nods

following summer he works installing displays at G. Fox Department Store besides one woman gay men staff display department for as long as he can remember homosexuals have always been attracted to him this misconception is probably how he got job his tenor voice suggesting not entirely mature man instead more like tentative young boy this ambiguous manifestation sometimes also evidences gestures thoroughly misleading after sidestepping several ****** advances one of his co-workers bewilderingly remarks you really are straight manager staff are fussy chirpy catty group consequently certain he is not gay they discriminate against him stick him with break down clean up slop jobs at outdoor weekend rock concert in Constitution Plaza he meets 2 younger blond girls who consent to go back to his place mess around both girls are quite dazzling yet one is somewhat physically undeveloped they undress and model for Odysseus radio plays Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly With His Song” both girls move to rhythm sing along he thinks to orchestrate direct decides instead to let them lead lies on bed while curvaceous girl rides his ******* slender girl sits on his face they switch all 3 alternate giggle laughter each girl reaches ****** on his stiffness later both assist with hands mouths his ****** is so intense it leaves him paralyzed for a moment

in fall he is cast as Claudius in production of Hamlet Odysseus rehearses diligently on nights o
WistfulHope Nov 2014
I am suffocating.
There are people with smiles and sweaters,
Asking me questions, judging me, pretending to care.
Sitting close around the table,
Trapped with no escape; pinned.
Looking my tormentor in the face, faking fine.
Taking hours to poke and stoke
The unyielding heap on my plate.
Bubbly mindless chatter -- external.
Dread and vile hatred -- internal.
My eyes betray my lie and show the truth I hide.

I am suffocating.
Under my own weight.

I am suffocating.
I am not better.

I am suffocating.
I am not thankful for stuffing.
Thanksgiving.
A familiar kind of painful, not thankful.
Beck B Jan 2016
crawling pain
seeping pain
numbing pain
consuming pain
stabbing pain
constant pain
throbbing pain
flickering pain
scalding pain
terrifying pain
piercing pain
stinging pain
exhausting pain
tearing pain
nauseating pain
quivering pain
shaking pain
tingling pain
sickening pain
agonizing pain
cramping pain
pinching pain
gnawing pain
pulsing pain
drilling pain
gut-wrenching pain
splitting pain
crushing pain
searing pain
excruciating pain
suffocating pain

ive felt
all of it
but
none of it
prepared me
for the pain
of losing
you

-beckb 012616
Bella Jul 2018
Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness
where my eyes can see
but it's like my head is just pitch black
and I almost wish I couldn't see anything,
like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while

sometimes I get stuck in this space
and I feel like my tears and my thoughts
are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat
blocking my airway
suffocating me from the inside

maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment
that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat

maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings
that don't take over my mind
crawl through my head like little worms
eating away at my brain
my thoughts
my skin

have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again
felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind
Shiver through your body
like it was a demon you let in through a memory-
through a word

maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed
because I wasn't strong enough
my depression fills me to the brim
fills my head and my chest
my arms and my fingers
I can feel it moving through my body
I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me
every last vein, nerve, *****, and tissue
how can you expect me to have the energy to fight
how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone
to open my mouth
how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel
I feel so worthless
in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything
it's taking everything but my skin
and it disgusts me

can you imagine the feeling,
having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately
It felt like you needed to be cleansed
like you needed a shower
take that feeling
now imagine it being under your skin
imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you
imagine all you wanted to do was to
GET
IT
OFF
and you can't
no matter how hard you try
you can't scrape it off
you can't claw It off

imagine you're scared of spiders
now imagine you're covered in spiders
and someone's holding down your arms
so you can't get them off
imagine them walking on your skin
in your mouth
crawling on your open eyes
in your ears
you're cringing at your own skin
You can feel them going down your throat
Their disgusting tickle in the pit of your stomach
in every crevice of your body
their tunneling under your skin
and you can't get them off
what are you supposed to do
but cry
My best friend's mom who doesn't believe in depression asked why I never told her I was depressed...
samantha neal Jan 2014
A gentle caress of the cheek
A shaky fingertip on the chin
The memories come and go in waves,
but hit with the force of a tsunami flood,
crashing down the barriers I so carelessly built up after you left.

A touch of my neck
sends shivers down my spine,
as I remember your lips brushing gentle skin
exhaling my name into the dark.

Twisted in sheets, tangled in blankets
Racing hands and quick breath
those nights come to me quick,
flashing images through my mind.

Glow of your eyes - you loved me.
Smiles on your face - you meant it.
Pleasure in your body - you showed me.
Grasp of your hand - you watched me laugh.*

I would say I want this nostalgia to stop,
but to be quite honest-
I'm addicted to reminiscing on these thoughts.

The fear of forgetting you
presses ******* all sides
suffocating my mind with images of us.
Aqua, bright fresh water
we oft get in the Malaysian Airlines
but not in the MH 370
where art Thou?

where are you all now?
when people and media around the world
bow in your case somehow

still hope you are all alive
i knew that you made that one big dive
right to the bottom of the ocean

all those inspectors are still saying
we can hear your phones are still ringing
my heart, my body and soul
knew: you all are not whole
anymore, but you were just freezing in the cool
do not make me a fool

that big birdie right to the bottom
with that rapid speed
as if to a large concrete

MH 370 you are now in freezing coolest water
know, that we all still bother

between air-intro space
or salted water filled ground
with the deepest bound

no matter what, we still care about you all
what only matters how long have you been suffering
in that suffocating small space between those walls

we all heard you sing

whatever Thy Response, i do understand Thee
no matter what, it's Thy divine decision

oh Lord, that suffocating air on the bottom of the Indian Ocean
how they were suffocated altogether suffered
and that only 2500 km away from Perth

but i trust Thee Lord, Thou hath Thy own reason
whatever may be Thy divine decision and Thy precision

may all passengers be altogether in greatest peace and ease
may they all really be released and now Rest In Peace....




© Sylvia Frances Chan

AD.Saturday 22nd March 2014~~at 3.09 hrs a.m.~~
ADDED Notes:
Since 11th March  this MH 370 has disappeared from the radar navigation~~since then I had watched each hour of every day TV journals~~~till today they have found the wreck~~~the chinese in Beijing announced the news today~~
CORRECTED on Monday AD. 24th March 2014 21.12 hrs. pm~~  Malaysia too has announced this news, that they have found the wreck TODAY 24th March at 2500 km away from PERTH, West-Australia at the bottom of the Indian Ocean~~~~~~~~
3.09 hrs a.m.Since 14th March this MH 370 has disappeared from the radar navigation~Monday AD. 24th March 2014 21.12 hrs. pm~~  Malaysia too has announced this news, that they have found the wreck TODAY 24th March at 2500 km away from PERTH, West-Australia at the bottom of the Indian Ocean~~~~~~~~~
Valarola Nikola Jul 2018
Mommy I'm sorry I manipulate you for,
The alcohol I feel I love more,
And Daddy I'm sorry I pretend I'm naive,
About all of my bad deeds,
I tried so hard to stay dry,
But the rain it pours inside,
I'm drowning in my own self,
I'm suffocating with my mental health,
And I try, I try so hard,
To be who you care for,
The girl who laughs just cause she can,
Who asks for hugs before bed,
But I'm not her anymore,
And I'll never be moving forward,
But really I'm just someone,
Who feels way too much at once,
I cry at night when I'm all alone,
Dancing with my demons on my own,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them,

I'm so tired of pretending it's under control,
This feeling of alcohol that sings in my soul,
The cough syrup that makes my shaky thoughts,
Become shaky feet, legs, and hands,
I'd rather feel physically ill,
Than continue to be mentally unwell,
So I will continue to veer off the tracks,
And spin out of control, it's just a fact,
I have no sense of when to stop,
Please don't make me stop,
It's so hard to be in my own head,
Every day it's like a death,
I die a bit, a piece of me fades away,
And I'm sorry to inform you, to say,
I'm not okay, I'm just not alright,
With myself I will continue to fight,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them.
LouLou Mar 2020
crawling pain
seeping pain
numbing pain
consuming pain
stabbing pain
constant pain
throbbing pain
flickering pain
scalding pain
terrifying pain
piercing pain
stinging pain
exhausting pain
tearing pain
nauseating pain
quivering pain
shaking pain
tingling pain
sickening pain
agonizing pain
cramping pain
pinching pain
gnawing pain
pulsing pain
drilling pain
gut-wrenching pain
splitting pain
crushing pain
searing pain
excruciating pain
suffocating pain

ive felt
all of it
but
none of it
prepared me
for the pain
of losing
you.
Margo Polo May 2014
Last night I
had a dream that
you died.
Everyone we knew
came, said their I’m-so-sorry’s,
and
left, filtering out the front door
slowly
like sand through a sideways sifter,
leaving behind pieces,
words and memories
and casseroles I
could not taste.

And the whole time
everyone was here,
you were here, too.
I could hear
you, smell
you, feel
you.
I could feel you
surrounding me like the ghost of the baby blanket
I once had and could never leave at home.
I loved you here and here you would stay, with me,
and now you would never leave.
I could keep you.
You were bound to me.

But the ties that bind are tight and you did not like me leaving.
You could not go with me and
you
accidentally
and without words
by holding, enveloping,
suffocating
you told me
that you did not want me to ever leave again.
So I stopped.
I stopped leaving.
And the calls stopped, too.
The invites. The lunches. The impromptu trips to town.
All unnecessary noise.
The people left. And then it was just you and me.

Until one day I saw what you had done.
Tripping
I glanced in the mirror and saw.
You had etched yourself into my face.
Dug with your nails
terrifying ravines
escaping the corners
of my eyes. Pulled down
my mouth and every
shallow natural valley turned to
deep empty bowl, hungry and wanting.
My eyes no longer held light.
I saw this, all evidence against you,
and I still loved you.
You had hurt me in ways you never had
while you were here – here – and I knew.
And I still loved you.

Slinking up the stairs
I called you to me. I felt you surround
faster than before and
closer, tighter, colder.
Suffocating, stifling and
so destructive in how you loved me.

Slowly but faster
I grew to know
I would not become you and
you would not become me.
We were stuck on other sides of the mirror.
I was so angry
at what you had allowed me
made me
begged me to become.
Realizing
I gasped and put
hand to heart
it hurt so.
I stood upright
how long have I been bent
took in one long deep breath of stuffy air
how long since I opened the windows
and called you to me
when have I last heard a voice not my own
called you to listen.

I felt the loss of everything else
friends
family
adventure
excitement.
Nothing was left of that here
and I was so angry
and I am so sorry
and I yelled
      I screamed
      I roared
why are you still here
why are you making me like you
why did you come here and
hold me
and keep me here with you
I am not the one who is dead
and I said
and I regret
and I am so sorry
I can’t have you here
go away
and
leave me alone

and you did.
You left me
all alone.

Why would you leave me?
sincurlyxbaki Oct 2013
she put my heart in a jar.
wait here until i return, she said.
i waited two forevers for her to open it, my heart was suffocating.

i was drowning in her memories, her eyes danced like fireflies in the moonlight. timeless passion. she is my flower child.

flawless. my heart is in a cage, solitude sedates me. i recall memories we never had or maybe it was visions of a future we will have?

i sit down with a notepad and admire your movement. i pen down my studies, and try to understand your complexity. your face glows, your waist flows. like the beautiful Victoria Falls, African queen.

i digress, you still have my heart in a jar. open a few holes, my heart is suffocating.

hair like Rapunzel, fine spun gold, only love knows our connection. time is but a teardrop in our moments.

on my notepad, is stories of what i think you could be, yet my imagination is far from your real being.

your shadow is unique. i can see it dancing under the stars, it tells its own stories. faded, i am.

im loving, your heart. keep moving, beauty. i love you. stop arguing with your mind, you’re beautiful. every man knows.

o, to be young and feel love’s keen sting.

beauty.

je t’aime. belle âme, mon coeur appartient à vous.
South Africa.
amanda Jul 2018
love is not made of giving and taking in equal parts
it is not a favor for a favor
i owe you nothing

love is not a compromise reached after long deliberation
it is not hurting on Monday
and healing on Tuesday

love is not touching because you will leave if i do not
it is not feigning naivety
when you see me cry

love is not the untimely squandering of innocence
it is not the suffocating grip of guilt
it is not your unwelcome touch

love is not
love is not
love is not
Rachael Judd Jan 2015
I used to feel like i was suffocating but since you left i feel like i am in a hole and the dirt that is shoveled on me is all the lies ive told and now i will let it bury me.
Nicx Aug 2018
Dear Bri,

My therapist asked me if
I thought I should
Write you a letter for closure
I was confused and said no
I was done with us
Over it
That was a few months ago
I can see now
What she might have seen then
I am carrying a lot of anger
A lot of pain and resentment
Because of the way you treated me
And how victimized you painted yourself
As you shamed me publicly
All over social media
For "cheating" on you when
We definitely have different understandings
Of what constitutes cheating
And then you took it a step further
To spread your delusions about me
When we could've had a conversation

You shamed me so hard at the end
Because "you didn't even know me anymore"
When you clearly didn't know me at all
I told you when we first met
I do not want kids and
I never want to get married
And you were surprised
After year and a half
When you bring it up
And I tell you again
I do not want that life
You cried and said we would be nothing then
So I bought you a ring
I figured, whatever
If we were going to be forever
I might as will compromise
Something you didn't understand much at all
Especially when it came to ***

After we broke up
You wrote me a letter
In it you attacked me for
Never having *** when you wanted
Since you'd have it with me
When you didn't want to
(Something I was very unaware of
And extremely not ok with)
Apparently I should've done the same
But I didn't want *** if you didn't
I could've ******* myself if that were the case
I didn't ask you to do that for me
I wish you didn't
Because love isn't about *** frequency
It's more about communication
And honesty
And I'm not perfect at that
But I tried

When I sent you an article
About why I avoid ***
Due to a ****** assault
You got mad at me
"What am I supposed to do,
Just wait until you're ready?"
Yes.
If you respected me
Then you would

And when I talked to you about
My interest in polyamory
You didn't give me a chance
To even discuss it more
You immediately said no
And that was that
You said you wouldn't change your mind
Which I should have known since
When I became friends with
A member of the church do you dragged me to
(Even though I'm an atheist)
You were mad because they were poly
And you didn't want me "getting any ideas"
And when that approach didn't work
You claimed that my being friends with them
Conflicted with your friendship with another member
Because they were connected negatively through an ex
Because we can't have our own friends?

But that's exactly what I needed
Because you shamed me so hard
For the things I care about most
That I lost myself in us
I no longer existed
Because I was "too radical"

So you didn't really love me
Because you didn't know me
You loved who you made me
Or whoever you saw in your mind
And somehow you were surprised
When I decided to leave
Because of course you did nothing wrong
But I was suffocating
So I left to explore myself
And my potential polyamorous identity

But then you were willing to try it
You didn't want to lose me
So you said you'd try an open relationship
But
Only under strict guidelines
And if I didn't agree to them
You wouldn't try
You called it "compromise"
But there's a huge difference
Between boundaries
And rules
That's not how polyamory thrives
So I left.

And a few months later
We talked about it again
You gave me more rules
"No other romantic partners "
Which would've required me
To leave who I was presently seeing
Just to have *** with randoms
And commit emotionally
Only to you
But I also had to agree
To eventually move up north with you
Regardless of my own life aspirations
Because I never really mattered to you
Only the fake picture you had of me

And all of those rules
Occurred while you simultaneously
Shamed polyamory
And me for wanting it
Because "I just didn't want to commit"
It is "an abomination"
"Disgusting"
Just because you didn't understand it
Because you were afraid of it

You didn't understand me
But you "loved" me
And you were the victim
Right?
I'm not saying I'm not at fault
But you are too
This series is extremely important to me. It has drastically helped with closure over past unhealthy relationships. They were all unhealthy I'm largely different ways and I did not write these to take away my own fault in the breakups, but I wrote this to rid myself of the unnecessary guilt I have been carrying around because of things that these exes have said to me or the ways in which they treated me. This project is about self-love. Not about hatred or wishing ill will upon others, because I wish them nothing but happiness. This is for me.
Tyler Nicholas Feb 2013
You must make a decision,
but you are suffocating
and time is running thin.

It's as if you are an astronaut:
one hundred feet away from your shuttle,
and the oxygen tank on your back
is empty.

It's like you are a captain:
pulled under the abysmal blue water
as your ship of the line is submerged
and your legs are tangled in the sails.

But really,
you are a young boy sitting a park bench
next to the girl from the schoolyard
with whom you fell madly in love.

The decision you must make:
Are you going to kiss her?

Reach the shuttle with mere seconds to spare.
Free yourself from the ******* of a sinking ship.
Kevin Miller May 2010
Isn’t it



Wonderful,

The suffocating love of a hundred people
They want you, what’s best for you
What’s best for you, what is best for you?
Rejecting them means rejecting love,
but you are in short supply of you
As demand increases, so does price
the price of you
the price is you.
Sanity sets in, escape’s let out
every night let it out,
beats staying in
Some are in short supply of love

*******

Not you
The suffocating love of a hundred people let you know
Across the room, across the country
a hundred people can’t help
shedding ‘bout one sixty does
only, you have to shed it
anchors only work when attached

love

it pulls your judgment, mind from its foundation
wants to make your choices
wants to make your coffee
you start to save you,
in a container with a seal
the shiny latch makes a pop noise
You can see through the otherside
No one can get in,
Not with the pop noise
Its where you keep you
in the house, Close the door
pressure mounts
let it out in

drops,

thoughts and blood
watch it heal, know you’re better
lets you know,
you are better, you are better
You are Better,
better isn’t with help, it doesn’t come with age
it’s a choice you make
the suffocating love of a hundred people
they pile on blankets, keeps you warm
but at a hundred blankets deep you aren’t moving

move.

Don’t think about me, don’t think about him
Just move and keep moving,
roots and anchors
Learn which is which
Remember which is which
Act on which is which
you grow roots, anchors are placed upon you
usually around the neck region.
Box up all the memories, store them if you like
But don’t stay attached, burn if necessary
Anchors only work if they’re attached
You can’t ‘be ready’ for something that’s already happened
It’s the past in those boxes,
the fond death of past nothings,
Life only exists in the future,
Not to be too dramatic but we’re dying, right now
in the present
we breath out life out as we speak
Only the future has life, stored as potential
just take the steps
cut out the cancer
if you want to be ready for something, be ready for what’s next
(A note to Jessica)


copyright 2010
KG May 2014
When people hear the word, depressed,
They visualize sullen teenagers dressed in black with slits on their wrists.
But, many fail to recognize,
That depression is not always a physical manifestation.
That most suffer in suffocating silence.

Depression is drowning in an ocean poisoned with your own thoughts.
Depression is the guarded prison of your mind with no means of escape.
Depression is the absence of love, the absence of light, and the absence of hope.

It envelops your mind with a blanket of darkness.
It taints your soul with unbearable numbness.
It reminds you every waking second that you are not good enough.

You’re worthless
You’re alone
YOU ARE NOTHING

………………………………………………………………………………………..


When people heard the word depressed,

They visualize attention seekers

But many fail to recognize depression does not stem from desire to be pitied.

That most want to create an illusion of happiness.

Depression is plastering a smile on your face everyday
And releasing a torrent of tears,
Cascading uncontrollably into your pillow every night.  

Depression is saying,
“I’m just tired”,
or
“I’m fine”
When someone asks if you’re okay.

But inside,

You are screaming desperately for help.
Yet you remain silent.

Because you are stronger than that.
Because you’re ashamed of yourself.
Because you think nobody would even care.

You are scared they will tell you


“You’re just looking for attention”

"That’s just life"

“Just be happy”

“You’re so ungrateful”

But, depression isn’t about seeking attention.
It is about waking up, pretending you are okay, and going back to sleep.
It is about isolating yourself from the world.
Closing the door, drawing the blinds, and crawling under the covers in a desperate attempt to shut them out.

Depression is when the greatest accomplishment of the day is mustering the strength to get out of the bed that cradles you in its safe cocoon.

That every morning you wake up, disappointment that you still exist.
Because life doesn’t seem worth living anymore.


Depression is chronic fatigue
Depression is the lack of motivation

Depression is complete and utter despair


Depression is regarded as a lack of personal strength

Depression is considered to be a weakness.

But depression is a real illness

And those who live in its suffocating grasp are the strongest of all.
marïama Sep 2016
In this battle for the freedom of our souls some may think
Maybe I should've let go long ago
From being kings and queens, Chiefs and Pharaohs
To ******* in the cotton fields
To slaves being whipped and forgotten
We were stolen.
Stripped from our homes and looted of our gold.
Fast forward
Now we are doctors, lawyers, professors
But Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our tears
Our sweat seeps deep into the souls of America
So Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our blood.
Fast forward
"All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law."
They tell us equality is coming.
That it is here.
Then let you wait holding your breath
Suffocating.
Black boy shot and killed for walking down the street
Black boy whipped and beaten for looking master in the eye
Tell me are you still holding your breath?
Still suffocating
Still waiting for the keys to our chains
Fast forward
Black lives matter
All roads torn down, we've paved new paths  
Stripped from our houses so we built homes
Lotted for our gold but we are golden
Black is hard to get rid of, that annoying stain that stays to long
Black is rough and tough
Black is solid in luring ways
But
Black lives won't matter until we love our own people
Black lives won't. matter. to. them. because you've called that girl a "*** or Thot"
Black lives won't matter until we stop the black on black blood splatter
For black lives to matter...
We must empower each other
Standing together the ground will break recognizing he whose tears, sweat and blood upon which it was built
So take one look at our past
Because this will be the last
We are just like volcanoes
Ready to erupt anytime
Burning and suffocating each other
Coming time after time
Beautiful yet dangerous
Building in every moment
Till one day we explode   Or
Go dormant
Leaving each other for another
Till the volcanoes wake up again
2014©J.Barraza
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
. 'as for those poets, only the perverse follow them. do you not see that they go too far in every direction and say things, which they cannot do?' (ash-shu'ara / the poets 26:224-226).

call them what you like,
the Huguenots,
for all i care...

   you always side with
the "heretics"...
  
   given that, "said" heretics
retain some cultural value
relativism of other cultures,
namely in the form of
depiction -

    since why would, "the word"
be deemed holy,
    ****-naked,
                rather than donning
a bikini of "iconoclasm"...
         when words... are at
the meat-market of copyright -
what with © coca cola?

                 sunni islam would have
never allowed sufism...
  but Farsi does...
  and will continue...
since no Iranian will bow
before an Arab within the schematics
of history...

          Sunni Islam, it's Wahhabi sentimentality...
so why persist in signing
the Adhan?
   why not speak in a honing like
drone sentiment of plain speech?
i thought all music was banned?
the current Adhan is a form
of music... isn't it? BAN IT!

    you never side with these Sunni
muslims, exploiting Bangladeshi labor,
you side with the heretics of Iran...
these *******, i can at least respect...
  
      no fast cars, convenient ongoing
cultural insurrections -
   Sufism...
       Afghan women's poetry,
and all that much closer to Hindu mysticism...
    
yeah... "islamophobia":
but only against Sunni Islam...
   but Shia Islam?
   no problem...
   i could stomach these peoples
like i could stomach the in-between
of the Turkish variant -
no ideology - simply, pure, power throttle...

i could make a great Janissary -
with a Turkish barber...
         for a great trim of hair and beard...
i'd cast a shadow on some
obscure chocolatier of Brussels
who thinks himself a politician...

     but there are certain aspect of Islam
i am willing to tolerate...
   what happened to the son in law
of Muhammad, namely, Ali...
was raw ******* kicking...

               promises, promises...
no promises...
           Shia Islam, as an European,
i can tolerate, Turkish Islam, i can tolerate...
Turkey is incrementally shy
of being treated at the 2nd variant of Iran...
at least with Iran, we share a history
via the insurrection into the ancient
texts through Greece...

  come to think of it...
whenever i listen to
matta's song echo babylon...
i start feeding myself goosebumps,
reminding myself
of Cyrus... Nebuchadnezzar...
and the dim-wit that was
   Belshazzar...

always siding with the heretics...
if not on economic groundwork,
then at least motivating,
rather than monetizing an idea...

and the Shia muslims are...
    one way or another...
   unlike the gluttons of Dubai...
the barbie dolls of postage stamp
"proof" of progress,
in size, and worth...

   Sunni Islam would have
never allowed poetics to remain
a viable form of expression -
the Persian tradition that is,
far beyond the western concern
for a comment section...

         Shia Islam allows patronage
of the arts, notably poetry,
without concern for monetary
funding, it, at least, doesn't prohibit it...
given the pride of the Persians...
Sunnis and their continual quest
for finding water...
    sure... poetry is pointless within
such restrictions of
existential concerns...
    but... given the current, civilized
establishment?
   sky-scrapers in *******
sand dunes?

         the qu'ran should have
forbidden the architectural ambitions
equivalent to the tower of babel
being erected, in environments,
that could never sustain said projects...

    and who originally spewed the term
islamophobia?
Sunni Islam...
        i never liked this strand of belief...
i hate the Sunnis like
a Shia partisan...

p.s. it's called patriotism is America...
but nationalism in Europe...
    you sure that's not a synonym?
Europeans can't be patriotic,
and Americans are never nationalistic?

...

   well: how could i ever convert to islam,
i do enjoy the adhan from time to time,
"sorry", but i do...
  i can't help it:
if i'm a sucker for pop songs,
i'm also a sucker for the adhan...
   crusader songs, templar songs become
stuffy after a while...
and last time i checked:
     there were the northern crusades
against the baltic people:
notably prussians, lithuanians...
with that cushion of: mediating the
escalation of war by the polacks...
coming from the east:
  last time i checked the mongols
didn't reach leipzig...
               buffer zone people...
and what of the ottoman onsalught
of vienna 1529: the ****** winged hussars
won the charge...

so, coming back to heidegger... aphorism 26
ponderings IX... how am i to not be
the historical animal?
         perhaps in german, in germany
i might become a non-historical animal,
to begin: anew, but with a terrible
past to hide, to negate...
   i could do that: if i were a german,
speaking german, in germany...
but i'm in england:
            i might have some roots in
Silesia, but it's "hard" to not be a historical
animal, an "animal" with a sense of time,
i.e. a future a past a present...
esp. under the english conditions
of: the biological animal momentum narrative,
like a tsunami, like an earthquake...
ripples throughout...
              i can't move forward with
the english championing darwinism every
single ******* step of the way...
why can't they hide darwin like the polacks
hid copernicus...
given the motto: copernicus -
who moved the earth, and stopped the sun...
why wouldn't i escape into history
if the current biological reality is:
(a) a yawn... the cruel nature of per se?
   the courting of pigeons on a t.v. antenna...
pigeons get rejected all the time,
lesson learned, he bows and bows,
coos... expands his tail feathers upon
the bow then folds them... she flies away...
repeat...
    (b) i can't escape being a historical
animal in the way that what the current
facts are being repeated have encountered
a whiff of Chernobyll...
              history is inclided to answer reality...
biology? not so much... not from what i've
seen and heard...
             truly a schizophrenics disney dream:
to walk among the newly insane feeling
like the only sane among them...
beau-ti-ful!
                   well... given the current criteria
of being bilingual as being synonymous
with being a schizophrenic...
           magic!
                    
   now the crescendo...aphorism 24
ponderings X:

              the word designates, the word signifies,
the word says, the word is (heidegger)...

i found that you can only write
"philosophy" with a neat, fixed vocab. regime,
clarity of boundaries...
    quadratic events in vocab.:

i.e. the reflexive: yourself, himself, itself etc.
and the reflective: your, self....
                       his, self...
                                  it, and the self...
                    ergo? atheistic scissors,
  the two articles, indefinite and definite
                                 a / the "self"...

i'm not playing "identity politics",
when i say that only two peoples ever managed
to sack Moscau... the mongols and the polacks
with the help of lithuanians,
"identity politics" only happens in
post-colonial society, akin to the english,
i'll speak the english,
but i will not be a cucked indian of
the former raj: i will eat the fish & chips,
i will eat the sunday roast,
   i will eat the english breakfast with great
delight...
            but i will not do what these former
colonial masters expect of me:
integrate at the expense of making my
mutterzunge into hubris!
stubborness contra pride...
                hard to tell the difference...

and why do i like heidegger so much?
i'm not into the ad homine arguments...
my grandfather, was, a communist party member...
so?
       i like heidegger... because he appreciates
poetics, i like that poets can share the same
values as philosophers,
thanks to heidegger: we have been requested
back into the republic...
if plato and islam didn't like us, hanging around,
some offshoot german thinker / promenade
enthusiast like used enough to,
i suppose: ban the theatre puppeteers...

i am not playing identity politics...
biological reality is not enough...
but archeological reality?
       can you really advance to counter?
i was born near:
Krzemionki Opatowskie, a Neolithic and
early Bronze Age complex of flint mines
for the extraction of Upper Jurassic (Oxfordian)
banded flints...
  personally? i don't believe in
the African genesis conundrum...
i believe "my" people originated from
the Indian sub-continent,
as, associated with the complex:
Indo-European categorization of language;
i'm still to see an African phonetic
encoding system, beside the hieroglyphics...

i, was, born, there! i'm not a displaced
post-colonial debacle between former master
and former slave...
i have: roots... i'm not ******* up to the fish & chips
brigade with a friday night's worth of curry...
i cook my own curry,
and by god: it is the food of the gods...
i'll give the blue indians that counter...
but sure as **** not the worth of mead
or whiskey...

if they only tolerated themselves,
sure, learn the english language,
but know this much:
           english is the modern lingua franca...
it's the language of economics,
forget the natives, too ignorant to learn
either deutsche or française:
island-folk...
                what else, what other attitude?
even the russians are like:
that land of the weirdos? the idiosyncratics?
yes, we know that land...
the only "thing" that shelters the english
are the h'americans, the south africans,
the australians etc.,
  sure as **** the scots aren't sheltering them...
and, mind you?
   if the i.r.a. really wanted to plant
a bomb?
   a real bomb? they'd revert from speaking
any english to begin with... resorting
to revising their usage of gàidhlig:
ga-id-hlig... gaelic...
   like the welsh, stubborn people, proud people,
retaining their Çymraeg...
celt: said kelt...
the glaswegian football team?
       Çeltic... not: keltic...
  borrowed from the greek: sigma (ς: cedilla to ****)...
   wow! all the particulars in the english tongue!
guess it would take an ausländer to spot them!

U-21 european championships,
england versus romania:
                           a magnificent match...
the youngsters playing better football
than the oldies in their mid to late / early 30s...

i'm trying to tolerate Islam,
               it's not in my nature...
            hell... i enjoyed visiting a turkish barber
shop, i still have an unflinching opinion that,
the turks are the best barbers in the world...
but...

              this quote, is going to **** you:
same aphorism / pondering (24 / X) -


*** fight videos - count dankula...
you know what i'd love to do to these little
snarky *****?
the french revolution isn't enough...
n'ah, them hanging, is not enough....
ever heard of the butchers' hook?
                 it's also callled close-up fishing...
imitation hang-man...
   you insert a fishing hook...
and you let the sweeney todd ****** dangle...
on a hook, rather than a noose...
lords of salem come your way?
i'd rather the snarky teen hanging off
a fisherman's hook than dangle
like some lynched ******...
beside the suffocation,
i'd like them with a fisherman's hook entombed
in their hard palette...
         i don't want them hanging...
what am i? a sadist?
  i want them on the fisherman's hook!
when suffocating without a broken spine absorbed
by the neck isn't enough!
  fisherman's hook gallows is a
masterpiece... of suffering...
  most certain...
  when cheap comedy is being towed...
making fun of bums, or homeless people...
the current society is so welcome
to bypass all the "adventures" of Loki...
but akin to the lords of Salem...
burn!? such a limitated imagination!

ah... right... digressing...
        the reflexive / reflective quadratic...
language - only if speech  has acquired
the highest univocity of the word does it
become strong (enough) for the hidden
              play of its essential multivocity
(as withdrawn from all "logic"),
             of which poets and thinkers alone
are capable, in their own respective modes
and their own directions of sovreignty.

we do live in a time of a lost sense
of dialectic, since we do not live in a time
of etertaining dialogue,
perfectly sensible opinions,
that's all we have...

                       if one of these snarky *******
came up to me...
they'd get a chance to experience a rubric
of 4, knuckles...
what's 189 centimeters in empirical?
6ft2...      oh!
                   see where imagination takes you?
and here i was: thinking i was without it!
butcher's hangman...
oh, not so easy...
                  
                fame by no association to fame...
just the tears of parents who raised their children
to be nothing more than rugrats...
annoying gnat like bothersomes;
and nothing quiet special to be associated
with weimar berlin...
     just, these,
   h'american mall onlookers
with pwetty-guy-for-a-white-fly-mentality,
as borrowed from californian
1990s punk;

re-used ****** losers.

mad-hatter's fraction: 10/6....
      0.666...
      well: to the given extent:
1.666666(7)....
     1, 0, /6,
no number is divisible by 0,
every number, divisible by 1:
is the same number...
    mad hatter's 10/6...

   re-used ****** losers...
i like that phrase...
        7 for every 6, 7 for every 6...
until the 0. fraction comes
a 1.: exponential serf of 0...
0 being the multiplier...
          
         i really am growing a beard to less
don it, but rather to experience
a relief from patience...
war robots?
the first non n.p.c. game...
i like that, very much...
      and when i did:

you know my first experience of
love at first sight?
the younger sister of my then girlfriend...
****** up ****...

love at first sight is a terrible phenomenon...
i was nearing 18, she was barely 13...
i was dating her older sister...
but it was love at first sight,
the trouble with: love at first sight:
it doesn't lie...
it tries to lie...
          but it can't lie...

   paedophilia? a bit... untouched bodies
though... bodies of people who were
never supposed to touch...
i once said to a fwend:
well wouldn't it be ****** up if i touched
her?
   she's a muse, which doesn't translate
into vacating her as a busy body
worth of a touch, does it?
     if only my old friend samuel said
otherwise:
sylvester "contra" tweety:
my first girlfriend...
but her sister?
         i was nearing 18, she was about 13...
love at first sight...
untouched, cradled, unscathed...
and so she remained...
   until she did what every girl would
have done...thank god she remained
a figment of my imagination...
   rammstein: rosernrot...
    
           i have seen love at first...
such a load of ******* that it had to be
the younger sister of a girl i was dating...
and the **** that i had to be 18 and see
was just beginning her teenage transition...
the world unfair i grant
the most justifications... as being
the (just - unnecessary adjective) arbiter...

love at first sight becomes a forbidden love...
love at first sight was always a forbidden
love...
           and the sort of "love" that achieves
a perspctive of change that doesn't
translate into old age...
love at first sight is soon translated
into a love of affairs closely associated
with middle-age disenfranchised
state of affairs...
i.e. to love again...
            how else to feel relief from
having lost both one's inhibitions
               as well as one's ambitions?!
in the conundrum of the mortal
"question" of the continuum being
preserved?
Joanne Chan Jun 2015
A lone voice calls out
Never reaching the stars
Left floating in frigid space
On a blind, infinite journey
Rejection

Nearby are others
Insults are constant gifts
Thrown like red meteorites
And suffocating nebulas
Rejection

Even the cruel pain
Ripping mercilessly
A black hole ******* souls in
Ruthless strength conquers everything
Rejection
- Sep 2013
Tears fall like raindrops
Like leaves fall from trees
Birds sing their melody
As they fly into the sky
Oh the beauty of nature
It seems so fascinating
The endless fresh air
But still I find myself

Suffocating.
© Natali Veronica 2013.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
Out of all these poems I've written of love and longing,
Out of all these years searching in the sea of people,
I still yet to understand how it's possible to have words without a muse

I often wonder what it would be like to have a muse without words
I believe it would feel suffocating
As you choke on all the words you long to exhale within your next breath
For a poet to be trapped by words is to be trapped by passion

Sometimes my heart swells up so big it walks across a sea of words and sinks into the deepness of the waters
Lost among the clearer beats on land
An abnormality pushed away from love like an ancient curse buried in my skin
One day i'll make it learn to swim rather than let it sink and bathe in sin

The question still remains
Would it be better to have a muse and feel like drowning,
Or to have the the words to accompany the lonely?
My earphones are as tangled up as the words that I’ve tried to say to you.
The words that I’ve constantly tried to say to you are now suffocating me.
Depriving me of the air I need to breathe when I think about what we both could be.
Here I stand gradually disintegrating just so I can try to remain whole.
I wanted to escape from the cold and nestle myself deep inside your soul.
But you’ve changed now and you’re no longer the same person that I fell for.
Allow me to whisper the words that held together the shattering glass that you’ve become.
I know that through their utterance you will finally feel your heart beating to the rhythm of our love again.
My earphones are as tangled up as the words that I’ve tried to say to you.
The words that I’ve constantly tried to say to you are now suffocating me.
Nameless Dec 2013
why are you sad?
Should I blame you?
I want to.
I wish so badly that I could point my finger
and truly believe myself when I
curse you for hurting me this way.
Should I blame God?
Why did you let this happen to me?
What the hell are you doing up there?
Why are you sad?
Should I blame destiny?
It was always supposed to end up like this.
HELP ME!
WHY AREN'T YOU HELPING ME?
And the reality that I am to blame for this,
reaches out it's icy cold hands and wraps them around my neck,
choking every last bit of air from my lungs.
WHY ARE YOU SAD?*
I can never escape my own mind.
I'm trapped here forever.
Suffocating.
slowly,

s u f f o c a t i n g
lX0st Nov 2014
I'm drowning in your moans
Every word that melts from your lips
Floods the room about us
Suffocating me into believing
That I would be satisfied
Spending my last moments
Staring into your eyes
Breathless
JidosReality Sep 2016
Im suffocating and breaking hopefully waiting, dreaming and thinking, silence screaming and dreaming.

Basically waiting listening and searching, I'm breaking and crumbling tears watching and smiling.

Water drops searching and biting, hunting me breaking me, my life is dangerously watching me.

Amazingly teaching me running and chasing me, basically biting me taking me, writing had my pen smiling and talking. 

When I was crying and dying thinking and searching, watching the whole world suffocating. My fears were drowning because they were always crying. 

Words cursing and attacking chasing the meaning of the memory! Reality had now become scary.

Thoughts attacking me me like they wanting something, whilst desert storms protect me from the subs heat.

Water drops trapped in the reflection of the mirror that's watching me. Now can you see? Why poetry had to set you free.

Give you letters and words the meaning was so deep. So please come with me inti JidosReality amazingly poetry was an upside down gift.

It was a gift from the pen because words were attracted to me, they broke me and held me, loved me and hated me. 

And now I'm suffocating holding onto the words that are trying to leave me. 

When I write I feel a buzz it's like a star has fallen from the sky from up above. My heart seems to rush the pen speaks so much.

My poetry is amazing because it comes from the heart.

JidosReality 18.6.14
#JidosReality
Janine Jacobs Sep 2018
I can’t breath.
Your holding a pillow over my face,
and call it love.
I am not quite sure when you and me
became we, and us and ours.
You talk about forever
and I listen, halfheartedly.
While watching your lips move,
I plan ways of escaping.
You were too much
and yet, still not enough.
After awhile I questioned
why I was holding on so tight.
I held on until my fingers ached
and calluses formed,
and it no longer felt right.
I was choking on the silence
of all the words I wasn’t saying.
Suffocating.
Slowly my heart became a tomb
and you, the mourner.
I am truly and deeply sorry for your loss.
Tori Hart May 2014
You sat on the other end of the table
Glistening, shining, and taunting me
Rosy cheeks with spurts of Yellow and Green
Silently teasing
A juicy, little Apple.
Hopefully no one would see me, no one would pay any attention
As I grabbed the treat and the knife
And began to dangerously peel.
I knew I was doing it wrong
My hands shaking while my cheeks began to flush
Embarrassed by my ignorant inadequacy.
Are you left-handed? she asked from my left.
Humiliation filled the corners of my eyes, wet and distraught.
No, I mumbled. My cheeks reflecting Mose's Red Sea.
I was beginning to drown.
Your thumb needs to move, You make me nervous,
and she sounded nervous indeed.
Put it down here. Help yourself control it. Guide it.
Everyone was staring now, the whole table awed
My ignorance showing, like a medallion at my chest
My shameful Apple as pathetic proof.
You're doing it wrong.
Non così. Basta, faccio io.
Let me do it.
You're about to graduate, and you can't peel an apple.
I began choking, drowning in tears of Humiliation.
No, let her do it the small Voice on my left said.
She is finding her way. Let me watch her.
I finished peeling the Apple
Suffocating my tears as I ate.
You remind me of Daisy, she said soon after
From The Great Gatsby.
I choked and laughed, more ashamed than ever.
I'm not sure that is a compliment.
I could barely muster a mumble.
She couldn't do anything by herself.
She looked at me, gentle and forgiving.
I think it is, she replied
Wistful and Wise.
Daisy was vital to the story, you know.
And I believe that given the chance, she could have done anything that she wanted
*On her own.
"Sbagliando, si impara."
Poetic T Oct 2014
I was swimming in a sea
Of balloons
They were
Ocean
Blue
&
White
I tried to hold on but
Always slipping under
The white would slip off
the many blues
And hit like a
Feather
Shaped
Brick
Many more would fall
I tried to breath
But the latex water
Suffocating,
Asphyxiating,
Breathless,
As each rolled off my face.
I was in a ocean of
Balloons,
But they kept floating down
Knocking the air from my lungs,
I swam,
I drifted,
As the white wall faded
Sinking to the bottom
The weight too much,
To float as the blue,
I was swimming in balloons,
Now floating face down
Suffocated by the endless blue..
Samantha Nov 2014
I have this chain around me
my hands are tied together
I cannot move so freely

I have this chain around me
my mouth is encrusted with power
I cannot shout so loud

I have this chain around me
my ears are full of order
I cannot hear so clear

I have these chains around me
so tight, so heavy
I cannot breathe so fully



(samber)
11/11/14
Akela Santana Oct 2014
I took a drag of a rolled, unlit, cigarette.
You have no idea how truly pleasing it was.
That cigarette had her lipstick on it.
It was like kissing her all over again.

I lit that rolled up, lipstick stained, cigarette, just to feel like she was here with me again.

The smoke had burned my eyes and scratched at my throat.
I tried to breathe but I started to choke, suffocating on the last of my free will.

For a minute, it felt like I wasn't going to survive.

I took deep breathes and remembered it was her love I never wanted to forget, so I smoked the rest of that rolled up, lipstick stained, cigarette, but by the end of it, I was dead.
To Her.
Anya Oct 2018
She comes to class and goes
“There’s bees in my Head”
Then pulls out
Another mug
Of coffee
Which happens
To be the cause

Another comes
Face on the verge of tears
“He did it again!”
We all know who
“He” is
Then proceeds to
Accept hugs
While giving
An in depth narration

Another comes in
“I’m, just, dying”
She proceeds to get
More hugs
While another friend
Calls her “hot”
And she insists she’s not

The fourth comes in
She’s been sacrificing
Her free time
To attend this class
And her sad tired smile
Says it all
She gets hugs too

And here I am
In the middle
Suffocated
...
Am I emotionally immature?
Am I too much of a cynic?
Is it me, or is it them?
Am I just different?
Or too self conscious?
...
Why do they have so many problems?
...
Then class starts
And I turn to our model,
A plastic skeleton dubbed
-Bony Bonez

And lose myself
In the charcoal

— The End —