"thrist" poems
I am a Shining Star
Let me Brust
To Decorate Your Sky
I am a Bioling Sun
Let Me Explode
To Light Your World
I am a Wandering Cloud
Let Me Be Your Shield
And Save You From Heat
I am A Glacier
Let Me Melt
And Remove Your Thrist
I Just Want You To Remember My Name
Whenever You Cry With Pain
It Will Rain
I Will Be That Rain
That Will Wash Away All of your Pain
Just Let Me Cry
If That Brings You A Smile
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
In this river while rowing your boat
hey there ! you hasty toad
you did not check for the banks
and flowed through the ranks
the trees are not anymore
by your side like before
the birds don't sing here
no sign of land far or near
in your attention for the twists and turns
like you ignored the face and saw just the sideburns
you were driven by an unquenched thrist
you repent what you left behind, now hurt
fishes so big, in this depth, your heart is now sunken,
in search of sweet happiness you have reached the *salty ocean*
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
The last few days
Have been strange
I haven't been eating
My emotions
And I always have
I am NOT
A thin girl
Nor medium sized
And I can't help that
But this is odd
Nausea replacing my
Urge to eat away
The stress or sorrow
A rumbling in my stomach
Screaming
Please no food
I'm a eater
My mother and father too
So why have I not been hungry
I've been thinking about
Dieting soon
Could this be my
Subconscious saying
*You don't have to
I'll take care of that for you*
I'm mystified
Usually I drink endlessly
Always thirsty
And always drinking more
Than anyone else
And yet I felt less thrist
In these last days
Completely ignored the full cup
Even when my mouth was dry
A sip would satisfy
Somethings wrong
But I'm not gonna ask
It's okay not to eat
At least not like I use to
Maybe this is a blessing in disguise
I just hope everything turns out okay.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
I was scattered
to the farthest reaching stars
Thoughts on thoughts
stacked like library halls
till the many pages formed a face
and with growing thrist
swallowed me down
into the endless night
of a dying black hole
I had lost all self control
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
My head in riddles,
poisonous snakes latch onto every thought,
every feeling, leeching out every essense of
purity until I'm left dry in thrist.
I feel the pressure of the acids pulsating through
every nerve of my living body, slowly torturing,
paralyzing me from the inside out.
But I can still feel the dim flicker of light,
the one feeling, the strongest of them all,
hidden the deep in the caverns of my exsistence.
I will crawl with my fingernails, with every
last breath to reach this light.
I will bleed before I allow myself to become
paraslysed into darkness.
These devious creeping shadows will be cast out,
the abundance of light will take over, I will be free.
I am ready to step into self liberation.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
When I grew out of my adolescence
I lost my crippling thrist to write
I stopped cutting myself in my early 20's;
just like the research articles said I would
Disorder direction, however,
was not the cause of my coping correction
I moved away from rampant tantrums
Sliding down the slope of sufferance
I used to write to externalize my internal desperation
My frustration with the life I was given*
*(Certainly not the choices I've made)
Over a decade of time has aged me
From a helpless girl, to an impassive woman
Submissive to circumstance
Now, I chain bricks to my ankles
And throw myself in the sea of apathy
I will not expend the energy to care,
but rather intentionally strive for indifference
In doing so, I sacrifice my desire to write…
Losing desperation makes me hollow
Then again, helplessness is for children.
I am a woman now.
I no longer crave the ability to describe my emotions
Asking for help is not a viable option anymore
I've tried that long enough
May 17, 2022
May 17, 2022 at 9:50 PM UTC
Your love is my vice
Thirsting for your soft caress
Carnal addiction
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC
I was a soldier of Rome
and my thoat is now split open
Split it was by a Gaul
Fighting to destroy the Republic.
I hope the earth is nourished by my blood
And life grows from it
For so much has been lost
In this senseless slaughter.
Do they not see the light of Rome?
Civilizations luster?
We bring fire to the shadows of the world
To cast them aside, tear them asunder.
Our cause is just, our will cannnot be stopped
The world shall be roman
We bring justice and order!
My sword may decorate the ground
And my armour my lifeless body
Behind me marches the strength of legions
From it ten more will take my place
For victory! For glory!
I was a warrior from Gaul
Sixteen springs alive
Cut down in my prime
To defend my home
From Rome´s thrist for land
They come forth from beyond the mountains
A ravenous, barbarous horde
They loot, and **** and pillage
Torching everything they touch
Can they not see our life is just?
And it is peace, not man, who governs this grooves?
We live, we love, we grow
They tend to their business and we to ours.
Yet they now come
And my body may give life to the forests
And from the forests forth shall spring my brothers
To **** For victory and glory!
I am a crow
I shall feast on them both
Life shall indeed spring forth
The maggots
The flies
And many, many more of us.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 6:46 PM UTC
We all thrist for passion and desire the lust.
From the stage it's a strange connection between the music
and the female form.
For years I sat the party creator sixteen full of want and no clear direction.
Tight skirts the light caresses every curve.
So eager to be jaded and happily used.
My school of beautiful corruption and thoose
Ladies so eager to teach.
Love far from mind the time of change toys left
behind.
New vices soon to replace.
The bar my sanctuary the stage I was invisable in
plain site.
Laughter is my love the party my soul.
Sin my eager vice the perfume to my devilish mind.
***** and no worries about the following day.
I fell in the life a happy fool.
Blind to the vision of the one way street.
Just a kid lookin to hitch down hell's highway.
The noise the sweat the blood given to perfect
strangers in the key of night.
Those beautiful forms sway in a seduction
tremble at the unseen hand.
The nights direction was always at my command.
Outside the night went from everything to
emptyness of the ordinary.
They went there way my feet back on the ground.
For I gave then a mental release victem to a sound.
Moments turn to tears the jaded forget all to soon.
But I remain the party never ends.
Faces fade forever into the night.
Direction points elsewhere.
Habits and addictions sex and and the abstract
scene.
My road leads in many directions.
The crossroads is but a one way street.
I see them still in the shadows.
Where the Devils and Angel's meet.
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 8:35 AM UTC
4 in the morning and the thrist for rest had not stopped its fight
I try to isolate my ears from these threatening voices at night
I suffocate my face with my hands and arms to make the place seem darker
My eyes wouldn't fall for it. It only made the sleep all the more harder
My nails clenching into my skull as I try to cope with this pain
Dear God of the heavens show mercy, my eyes are red and burning... and I'm going insane
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 4:45 AM UTC
love
is a
thrist
and hunger
for knowledge
and
the search
for truth
that
causes
equilibrium
between
our souls
when
love is knowledge
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
My drought had been long
My thrist severe inside
The desert cold of my loneliness.
Such a pining I felt
And could not describe but
My need was easily understood.
I had a craving for contact
Of warm skin, conditioned hair,
Under the saftey of a comforter.
The Night's cold that chills
May speak of my need, but the
Wounds of my soul held the truth.
I could feel myself withering
In the cold desert of my feelings-
Such a death I wish on no one.
My rewaking arose with the cold
Sting of a blade, feeling warm
against my icy veins.
The blade made a flow of
words into my mind and
bid me to write them here.
Of such reminders I have few,
But I remember this feeling,
Which I asked to wait outside the door.
Upon Her entry I remembered why
I had avoided Her for so long,
Her cold gaze penetrating my heart.
It was not in my strength to
Fain a second defense against
The onslaught of her will.
She held me in her frigid embrace
And I thanked her for it,
For within it was a hint of what I longed.
I knew the blade was Hers,
And bid her again my gratitude,
For I knew this death would let me live.
It is almost morbidly humorous
That Loneliness can take care of
Those enslaved to her so well.
Clasping the wound from the blade
I walked out the Door, wishing to
Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom.
There was little time however,
And I wished to say goodbye to a
Chosen few, and the journey was harsh.
The wind outside howled and snow
Bit at my face, much like those
I felt necessary to bid my adieu.
While I can scarcely recall
My meetings with both, I know
The burden was lessened by the visit.
The touch of a warm hand lingered
On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss
On my tongue were the only memories I left with.
At the Gateway to the
Relm of the Warm I looked back
quietly on the Land of the Lonely.
I know many despise that Queendom,
But I cultivated a fondness for it
Few can grow, and fewer can explain.
At 2AM I took a longing breath
Of the coldness that surrounded me
And with it I walked out the archway.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
I was famished
As my curves started to grow
Knobby knees and a little *** belly
******* that had started to bloom
Like a seed that turned to a rose
Hair grew in places underneath
Men started to turn there heads
My dresses were getting awfully short
But momma could not afford any more
My round backside boys started to notice
I felt awkard and unaware
****** spilled over into my *******
Sitting in church thinking of how I sinned
Deep into the night
My fingers would find me
Digging desperately at this tiny spot
Over and over all the time
My salvia wetting the tips of my fingers
As I dip inside
Trying to hush my moans
Yet they escape
I wish I could taste my own
Squeezing my thighs
I was taught this is wrong
But this thrist is something I need
This obsession is the only thing I have
Into the dark with quiet thoughts and a carnal need
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
I devour every breath you take
I false my veins in understandment of water
The droplets of the liquid that drip from your eye
I pour sunshine into my drink
The one you bought in the corner
I scream for your thrist
You break my back
You don't seem to scare
You seem lost
You inhale a white smoke
Its dangerous
I take in the angst
I struggle not to dust the water sprinkles.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Such a mere desire to have, my lady.
To be suffocated in sol of your life is a mere desire you thrist upon daily. Look at the cads!
Look how merry they are by buffoonery while you leak of probity. How generous were you when you let his sin fall in yours.
Gave a taste of your soul to a foul,
I pity you my lady.
I really do.
In odour you seek paradise with a prize of affection
yet all i see and all i will is that your kindness towards them gives them the right to ****
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 8:52 AM UTC
When your pops die from gun violence
All the optimism in you becomes silent
You see life as a glass half empty
Just a half glass away from dying of thrist
You live like it's always close to the end when things could be worst
You audition through life with a smile and a grin
Deep down knowing it's all for pretend
So you live careful not wanting to knock over the glass
And the fear of being empty, makes you think every sip is your last
You try to grasp light in a dark room
Use bravado and brash to mask a heart of gloom
You speak with joyful agony
And every time things turn bad
You question if Gods mad
Cause Everytime you walk the road of repentance
You turn back to your *****
You question if you're the pig that God warned not to cast with pearls
Read about walking in the spirit yet struggle with breaking from the grip of the world
You lean on your own understanding
So you have a hard time realizing the enemy
Find yourself sitting at the wrong table
Thought you was growing but was told you can't sit at the grown table
Until you do this and that
As your spirit and flesh scrap
Just to come to the reality that your flesh will die
And to God your spirit returns back
Then you start living strictly by God's truth for his truth will forever trump facts
Birthing a perspective of optimism a half full glass.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Last night I was able to get a few minutes with the devil at midnight, I was telling her about my ambien fulled mid-flight fist fight
She looked at me with delight as she offered a key with some coke that just hit
just right
She told me
"Kid you're on the right path, people looking to tear you off may tell you that there is value in sit ins and coups, but these chickens get to be yours for the picking. Stay the course
No remorse
Until you're forced on your deathbed
Stick here and you'll be well fed
Maybe your spirit dying of thrist, but what good is a death if you can't afford the hearse?
I'm here to tell you first and last, that after life the afterlife is laughter in the mind of a child. Kid go wild"
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
You said, I need to change me? change the inside of me, eyes, nose, the shape, change my beliefs, change the me that makes me… ME.
To be with you, whos’e you? help me to remember? Did you change the color, the smile, those ugly feet, the qualities, will you change these for me, the smell of your forest for me? Why? You see; the earth that, we all came from is rough soil. that plenishes me… nourishes me ...to feel, to touch, to know that no matter what I have change,the earth will recognizes the true me, that she hàd place upon the earth, knowing that one day I will return to her, recognizes the true form, dust to dust, my earth does not care. she will accept me this much I am sure …
Change me .. Change me… for a fraction of time .. For a simple lay, the approval of your glare, change me for you? Who are you? My water is pure, for wave of fore play, and thrist of lust … no, this is not necessary….
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 7:12 AM UTC
The blanket of space, where never rased so "placees after hours" you listen the blank taste settles there hate.
Conflate, the reams of the varibles.
Disagree, with the hammer of dawn.
Dust mist the area.
Immunity, was parched the thrist it needed a pass to enter with grain on hands you go to your converters.
The build began, its safety features include "secrete safe" house concepts.
So don't be silly or nodding because the scale use there own grips.
The yard puzzles most as Un seen.
Cars pass by yet no one sees the area.
How was this able to occur none will know.
Many men and women, praise there skills made in full detail.
Don't look away as the sun will change its pace more than just metaphorically.
Day after day the music, was played to the person of high grade, sheilds.
As shadow's came we light his path or aura enegy.
Disburst there attempts with tricky special ops.
Codes were recited, to open the plasma coil and the power was as is.
Above* the words read Care Is To Be Used!
Misinformation, spell to Earth, as Kings and Knight, change there views and faces.
Here as rain starts pain grew and Plains redone.
Illicit, there plains where yet with grim details Un masked.
Poker hands faces look easy.
Oh, dear lord it is that of pity.
Black ships and twister of reality.
Shade there (Egos) and stain there display.
Decate, as we go to the other room he begins his home made craft.
Shoulder, heavy as made precession, was resized for the purpose of matter displacement.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
What happened to the games?
What happend to the giggles?
At what point do we grow up?
And when do we become corrupt?
The answer is simple, life is a cup
We play and laugh until one day we thrist.
As we get older, we keep drinking
Until we see the bottom, and our minds burst.
What lies on the bottom, scares us
We become filled a with a greater lust.
The craving for knowledge eats us alive
Until our inner child escapes it's hive
So why rush your age?
Keep your imagination in a cage
And keep your cup filled
Or one day your inner child will be killed
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
What happened to the games?
What happend to the giggles?
At what point do we grow up?
And when do we become corrupt?
The answer is simple, life is a cup
We play and laugh until one day we thrist.
As we get older, we keep drinking
Until we see the bottom, and our minds burst.
What lies on the bottom, scares us
We become filled a with a greater lust.
The craving for knowledge eats us alive
Until our inner child escapes it's hive
So why rush your age?
Keep your imagination in a cage
And keep your cup filled
Or one day your inner child will be killed
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
サタン:
and you will know me...
by my reproaches...
my ridicule...
my condescending humour
fabric of riddle...
you will claim to know me
for my love for
the mediocre...
you will come to love me
for my adventure into
your unwillingness...
to.. seize tthe prospect
of... this little adventure we
are demanded to share...
between all.. that's time:
before us!
for as much as i love you...
i'l be the first: to thrist
having to... disgruntle you:
in relation to me...
in relation to that...
awe inspiring! grace!
in who's presence all democracies of men:
decry themselves...
and all return to
the cauldron of:
beginning with the heave
of the pyramid...
saved by the sunrise and the song of birds...
can i at least: be... deemed...
a... welcome surprise?
let me just check...
haven't i been subjected to...
a case... of... identifying wrong...
of a stolen identity?
if i have been...
let the ravens rain down fire: with their
croaking!
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 11:14 PM UTC
An unsteady tempo beats in my temples/ I speak in a strange tongue, an unknown dialect escapes my lips/ curious watchful glazes litter the uneven room that I slowly navigate/ it rocks back and forth, I ask, " where is the captain to this ship"? Those watchful eyes I mentioned now look with laughter some with disgust/ it is a must no imperative to find an area of safety/ I hate it but the constant swaying has cause sickly bowels/ as I continue to speak the strange language an even stranger liquid I begin to spew forth! What's happening!!?? Now darkness is all I see before me/ it seems like days/ I remember nothing/ I awake to see the that I am in different rocking ship/ more watching eyes/ I still speak the same unknown language hearing the same uneven tempo.......will this dream ever end? Will I be forever doomed to repeat the same cycle? Well, at least I have something for this persistent thrist
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC