"voluntarily" poems
Teamwork Solves The Problem
They say “two minds are better than one.”
Nothing could be truer.
As I watched a friend and his relative, patiently, take apart and fix a broke appliance.
I relaxed and observed.
The two had the item repaired and figured out quicker than one whose questions are the parts in which the other can answer when there, with him, aiding in the battle of winning the war to piece together a needed tool , that needs mending.
Through answered questions from a partner well answering problems, the other had faced,
piecing together the problem, through help and sweet and strong reliance.
Upon another to help in rougher times.
I remarked on such, the phrase, as they smiled.
In agreement…it wa voted unanimously.
That :”two minds are better than one”
Simultaneously….we all nodded.
It was a new motto on which we have started to have styled…
Even more so, even a “ton” of minds wishing to achieve the same goal - to fix a broken moment…
or even a city that is in disrepair.
such, through unity, the item was finished and the conversation had ended….
It is alike war and conflicts…… ….
Having people, ready with you, voluntarily by your side…
Is better than being too tall for one’s own good…or even better motives…
If he fails to see that “one is not an island…”
“Nor is one an army…”
Common Sense tells him to ask for “brother’s in arms”
which overrides any strong form of blind pride..
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:53 PM UTC
One.
When my mom found us asleep in my bed at 4am and screamed at you to 'Get the **** OUT of her house,' you texted me the very next morning and asked to see me as though it never even happened.
Two.
When my family went out of town without me for Thanksgiving, we stayed the whole day at your place and watched foreign movies and ate pasta.
Three.
On our first date, we sat in your car until 3am just... talking.
Four.
When my sister really wanted that new Pokemon game and my local Walmart sold out, you voluntarily drove almost 5 towns over just so she could get it because you knew I couldn't for her.
Five.
The first time we had *** I cried. I still don't know why. You held me the whole time.
Six.
You woke me up with tickets to one of my favorite musicians of all time, for a tour I didn't even know about.
Seven.
When my dogs died, you stayed up with my the whole night as I cried. Both times.
Eight.
The first time you kissed me was at a gas pump at 10pm after I changed out of my blouse and into my hoodie.
Nine.
You took me to Buffalo Wild Wings even though you're a vegetarian. You even put up with my singing each 2008 Billboard Top 100 song as it played. I could tell you were embarrassed for me, but you laughed and kissed me anyway.
Ten.
When I told you I hadn't been to the art museum, you took me. When I told you I'd never been to Chipotle, you took me. When I told you I hadn't felt safe in years, you made me feel the safest I ever have.
Eleven.
After you kissed me the first time, you admitted the thing that "made" you kiss me was my purple-stained lips after I ate Superman ice cream while belting out songs terribly and sitting in the passenger seat of your car.
Twelve.
When I told you that you were a terrible tipper and I was a waitress, you immediately stopped tipping terribly.
Thirteen.
You left me a voicemail telling me you appreciated me, that you felt lucky to have me, and you claimed you didn't deserve me. While I disagree, I felt it. That was the first time I heard you say "I love you" before you had actually said the words "I love you."
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
I'd heard about problems with police
hard to hear harder to believe
personally I never had a problem
oh a few well deserved speeding tickets
probably cut a break no definitely
I drove very fast especially in the turns
roll-the-tires fast in the turns
that was me
and the more I heard the faster I turned
as a young kid I applied and was accepted
to six colleges six for six piece of cake
why the stress my SAT score equated
to an I.Q. of 1 above plant life
accepted open arms those WASPs loved me
graduate school one for one
best in the country
bar none MBA with honors that was easy
they called it the golden passport yes
passports are even faster
I never had problems
with band-aids
the bank
the insurance company
the healthcare system
never turned down
for a credit card car loan
life insurance policy
or request for a specialist
experience is the best teacher
and the more I learned
the less I wanted to know
and the faster I turned
then I learned
about certain specifics
certain policies
with regard to traffic stops
bank loans rental property
heath care voting rights marriage
read the color purple
and then that invaluable government
syphilis experiment
that would have been inconceivable
even to doctor mengele
that the star spangled banner
has more than one stanza?
really there were four stanzas?
MY country ‘tis of ME
and it was making me feel *****
learned that no one
voluntarily held that flag up
that hellish night
o’er the ramparts WE watched
as slave and freedmen
were ordered
to their near certain death
with the threat of absolute
certain death
then I watched a cop
shoot a kid in the back
in cold blood
near a merry-go-round
on a playground
in baltimore maryland
I liked baltimore
fast very fast he emptied the 10 round clip
of a semi-automatic 9mm Glock 27
into THAT kid's back no hesitation ******
baltimore baltimore baltimore baltimore
I hit the brakes hard
on those fast decades and decades
generations generations generations
of turning
I slowed down way way way down
stopped
took a deep deep deeper breath
then did what I always did and do best
I turned turned turned I turned around
and as I turned I woke
to kneel
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 11:05 AM UTC
When you know you're making
a big mistake
but you voluntarily make it
anyway
You know you're either
in love or
an idiot and you pray they aren't
the same
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
Have you ever been under the influence so long
That when you are forced to stop
To come up for air
Everything feels
Unfamiliar?
Sobriety chokes you
Traps you
Makes your heart race
Like a Chinese finger trap
You voluntarily entered into,
But now feel as though you might not escape.
The sober life is what you strive for
Long for
Dream of
Everyone around you encourages,
You can do it
One day at a time
They say
Attempting to motivate
Inspire
Help
But these are all lies
A mere hour of sobriety is too much to handle
It suffocates
Makes my hands shake
And my mind go crazy
DRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKINEEDAFUCKINGDRINKNOWGODPLEASE
This phrase repeats itself,
Over and over
No matter how many times you tell yourself
ICANDOTHIS
You know
It’s only another lie in the endless stream of pathetic, useless encouragement
You have created for yourself.
And after you say this,
ICANDOTHIS
You laugh
Knowing that it is absolutely
UNTRUE
And always will be
How can you embrace sobriety
When the bottle calls from its hiding place
The place you hid it
From your lover, family, friends
Pretending you function
Just like all of them
Waking up
Going about your life
Without panicking about when the next drink will be
When the drinks you need
Will **** you
If anyone will even notice
Or care.
Probably not,
Why should they,
Do you?
You never have.
Your life is an endless series of drinks and lies, and more drinks
And more lies.
You are nothing.
An empty cup
Waiting to be filled with the substance that will distract you from living
And then take your worthless life in the end.
Alcoholic
Forever
Unfixable.
Stop wasting our time.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Auntie Em is calling….
I was just getting to love my Emerald City
The shiny feel of it, its sweetly diverse demi-monde.
Its shimmering green beauty and tranquil sense of safety.
The heels of my ruby red slippers were well & truly dug in.
But no, the state fair balloon stands before me tied up & ready to go.
A grand exclamation mark in my way if ever there was one.
And Toto for once has gone mute, no chance of a last minute hold up.
"Dorothy, Dorothy, where are you?"
I guess it must have been too fantastical a dream to be true.
A time for goodbyes.
I’m embracing the Lion telling him to always be proud of himself & not to walk unafraid.
The Tin Man’s gentle open heartedness I compliment him on as we both shed tears.
The Scarecrow I kiss and thank for his loyalty & grace under fiery pressure.
With a heavy heart, I climb that first tentative step on the block.
"We’re sick with worry over you"
I could be angry but the wise words of the mystic ring loudly in my year.
I do need to go back – My Auntie Em is really calling me.
Calling me back to the grey flatlands of home.
Back to the numbness of small town heteronormativity.
Where Twisters rarely every came by to sweep you away and save you.
I could only keep singing ‘Over The Rainbow’ in vain hope.
"Find yourself a place where you won't get into any trouble!
Unlike Dorothy Gale, this Dorothy left Kansas voluntarily
The long yellow brick road finally took me under the rainbow and on to my Emerald City
I no longer pined for home but knew all along that it would call me back one day.
And so here I am, drifting higher & higher away from my adopted home.
Perhaps I need to build a revolving door when I get there to pass through both worlds easily
Or perhaps bring something of the rainbow back to illuminate the grey-lands.
Or perhaps – in reality - some reconciliation between these worlds is in order.
Perhaps.
It’s time to slip on the ruby red slippers and prepare the way for Kansas.
Yes, this Dorothy has surrendered but
I always had the power to be me, my dear.
I just had to learn it for myself.
August –September 2018
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
My feet are flat, my eyes are bad
It hurts for me to run
"you've checked out fine" the doctor said
"You're in the Army, son!"
It makes no sense
They can't be right
I've even brought a note
"Stop staring son, and shut your mouth"
"'before I cut your throat"!
"But, Captain....sir"
"I'm all 4F"
"There's no way you'll want me"
"Put your arm down, boy, stop salutin'"
"I'm a Sargeant, don't you see?"
"I'm an NCO, a working man"
"Not a pencil pushing geek"
"I own your life, you're mine now boy"
"You long haired, hippy freak"
"I've got ten weeks, to shape you up"
"I'll teach you how to fight"
"Now grab your gear and follow close"
"And don't lose my tail lights"
"Welcome to the forces folks,"
"Now repeat after me"
"I joined up of my own free will"
"I'm here voluntarily"
"Select your bunk and grab some sleep"
"Your new life starts at dawn
"Forget about the world you know"
"Now, all of that is gone."
I hit the bunk and closed my eyes
And was just falling asleep
When in the room I heard a noise
"Wake up, you long haired creeps!"
I jumped on up, as did we all
Saluting was our mission
"Drop your arms you maggots..now"
and assume the position"
"Push-ups lads, that's how you'll grow
"to respect just why you're here"
"Right now, though I don't smell courage boys"
"Right now, I just smell fear"
It took us almost half the day
To do ten that were right
If this alone would do me in
I'd be dead before tonight.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 8:40 PM UTC
force fed lies from birth
subliminal messages infest my upbringing
blindfolded by greed
I don't see you starve
or smell the pollution
I can't hear the bullets flying
because my ears are stuffed with lies
they say the government has my interests at heart
that the school systems are built to support me
and we're more equal than ever
so why is the wage gap wider than my young eyes
and how is it that a country that screams freedom
won't put down their weapons
when their children are bleeding
why do I know how to dissect a frog
ignorant of the fact innocent civilians are slaughtered
intestines on display
like the green amphibian under my knife
because I can kiss a girl
in a drunken game of spin the bottle
but such an act would get me killed in 11 countries
and is still illegal in 72
why do I know the sum of internal angles in a triangle
yet I don't know how
to read the signs of suicidal friends
when statistically 1 out of 5 people I roam the halls with
struggle with a mental illness
even though more than half of those suffering
have no access to treatment
we are collectively clueless
I am no stranger to privilege
my gratitude is not withheld
but why am I more worthy
than the child forced out of his country
for his religious identity,
for being himself?
why when accessing the privilege of education
they don't teach me how to help other humans
when did sums become more important
than knowledge of current wars
did you know there's more than 10 of them?
because I've only heard of one
I believe that you choose to do nothing
but if i am never aware that I have a choice
nothing can change
and even though everyone has a voice
people with the solutions only choose to hear those with a status
how is it that such screams of desperation
sound so quiet to them
why are those in power of whole countries
so blind to our demands
why do they make things impossibly easier
for those whom already have wealth and advantage
when those stripped of human rights
always seem to escape their greedy sight
but some of us have something they fear
something that never crossed their closed minds
we have the power to create our own opportunities
we can force those whom are voluntarily deaf to hear
so hear me in my passage only seen by very few
this platform may be small but my words shout at you
an action no matter how small
a voice no matter how soft
provokes change if not in yourself
then in even the most unfamiliar faces
but the difference between thinking and action making
is you
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
i can't believe i'm living out my life's
10 seconds of stupidity with
an un-payable debit account security
of future credit, loans, debt and moaning...
**** me double twice blind with a joker in hand...
of course i'm stupid, i got educated in
a world that pays you back with menial
labour, to look pretty... seriously,
don't do the stupidest thing imaginable and
get yourself a university degree, unless
you're a woman, that's fine, you'll get to
meet and voluntarily wet your ******
with the next president of Romania,
but we need idiot mechanics, and believe
me, i'd rather oil up car pistons like
stroking giraffe necks of Myanmar women....
from **** generals cited through to Epicurus' citation...
believe me, i wish i was smarter,
most of posthumous fame is a regard of
obstructive i.q.,
we were believed to not take offence at our
exposure to systematisation
which educated both thief and banker...
none of the two differ... both excusable buffers...
we trusted people... trust was our biggest idiotic remark...
and now the earth in spin... for endless maxims:
it's like that... and that's the way it is;
no wonder i end up watching serial killer
documentaries.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
The sun rises then sets;
It's beautiful.
The moon glows then disappears;
It's beautiful.
*The thought of 'Us' is bittersweet.
'Us' is ugly yet so beautiful.
'Us' is saccharine yet so acidic.*
Demoralized thoughts
derived from cynical trepidation
seem to render me dazed and addled.
I've never experienced a love like this:
a love whereas i voluntarily succumb to any of your surmises,
a love whereas your wants and needs come before mine,
a love whereas I feel like i need you,
a love whereas I suffer from withdrawal
when your voice fails to reach my ear for too long,
when your skin fails to touch my skin for too long,
when the trust I so much had in you
..
..
..
seems to no longer exist.
*Would anyone savour the taste of a bittersweet fruit?*
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
I felt hatred deep through my veins,
It burnt my skin
Planting the seed of vengeance
‘How dare you’
Your words flashed in my mind.
You tear open my wounds
With your pitiful words,
You **** me every time,
You breathe my name.
You confess your love,
That chokes me every night.
You’re the poison that I ingested,
Voluntarily, naïve little thing.
You strangle me with your words,
Stifling the smothered screams.
You gnash my skin
With your ****** teeth,
You tear open my insecurities,
Piece my piece I pay the price
Of surrendering to the devil.
You call me lovingly,
‘Little pet’,
You expect me to swallow your lies,
The shackles of your tribulations.
You whisper sweet nothings,
Of how I’ll ‘join the great majority’,
And you’ll hunt again,
A prey to torture,
A sacrifice.
How can I let you?
You broke my soul,
Tarnished my body,
For your sickening self;
You reduced me to ashes
For what?
I wait for you to return.
You’re asleep,
Are you tired from inflicting torture?
Oh how sad, aren’t you the victim here.
I sneak up to your lithe form,
You breathe my name,
Is it a silent prayer, darling?
I plunged the knife deep into your heart,
The ***** he doesn’t feel.
Your eyes open, you’re shocked,
You didn’t expect betrayal.
The predator, soaked in blood,
Calls out again, the last time,
Losing his breath, sweating profusely.
‘Die, pet’
Nice retraction, right?
The Hunter dies pleading the hunted,
Ragged breath, such music to my ears.
You die, a meaningless death,
You succumb to that knife you use to ****
**** the others, **** me.
You die, a sobbing mess,
Too cold for life.
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 9:45 AM UTC
Born of a binary,
black/white,
white/ black.
Cultured by silence,
a blank slate,
but no more tears.
Time isn't real.
They speak, they say,
tell me there's nothing wrong with me;
standing in the kitchen with my
grandmother telling me there is
nothing DIFFERENT about you.
Strive to conform.
Sameness is a casualty.
**I DON'T GIVE A ****
about conservatives
.
"Humanists" avoiding their toxic
misogynistic tendencies,
old friends enlisted
voluntarily perpetuating a
system of violence and suffering,
others are bluffing, don't say ****
walk eggshells,
I must be a tiger loose from the cage,
and they're waiting to see who becomes the
canary in my coal mine.
Rhyming by incident,
but I hate this **** & I'm not all right.
Women can participate in their own oppression,
minorities can be racist,
we're all raised in a ditch;
Patriarchy, capitalism, class values,
botched messages, "color blindness",
etc. etc. etc.
**** everyone, and don't treat me like I'm better
or I should know better, or I have to be "perfect"
if I want to be "different". Raised in a ditch.
Cultured by racism and depression.
I think of suicide like a novelty
until I don't
.
.
.
Everything turns grey and reads like sloganeering.
Waiting for the past to manifest as a trauma.
Waiting for the past to make sense.
Waiting.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
goth girl
wearing pastel
doc martens
and black leather
submit
voluntarily
kneel before me
as your master
enslaves you
with this collar
May 15, 2021
May 15, 2021 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Super Heroes of Rock!
There’s a little person named Gem, with a banjo in his hands;
But he’s too drunk to play.
There’s a guy with one arm and he’s slamming the drums
And I think his name is Dave.
Jenny plays the Bass, with a rash on her face
And she’s going to die today.
The lead guitarist (Jimmy) has no legs,
But he always tries his best.
But his lack of fingers and thumbs,
Is starting to become a pain
And the fact I can’t sing!
Well it doesn’t mean a thing,
Because we’re not even getting paid to play.
No we’re not, getting paid to play.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
When Kurt decided today was the day
And put a bullet hole in place of his face,
They called the Super Heroes of Rock!
To come and save the day.
And when Black Sabbath crashed the plane
And Axl cancelled the show again.
They called the Super Heroes of Rock!
To come and save the day.
The little person, Gem, he used to sing,
But a girl named Lisa broke his banjo string,
So now he simply comes to our shows
And joins us up on the stage.
He used to be the ladies favorite,
But now he’s lost all of his confidence.
Because he hit the bottle hard
And he hasn’t been the same since.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
We’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
And if there’s nothing else I can say,
I guess we’ll just rock the show our way.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
And ladies there’s no need to fight;
Just come and form an orderly line.
Then come and be the bands groupies;
With us back stage.
And the fact that I can’t sing!
Well that doesn’t change a thing.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we do this voluntarily, anyway.
We jump into empty gigs slots,
When a band’s singer has lost the plot.
We’re the rehab missionaries
And we don’t get paid to play.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
And if our music isn’t your thing;
Well we already know we stink.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we only came to save the day.
Could you give us back Jimmy’s false legs?
He only wanted to try and crowd surf.
Things are already bad enough for him,
What with the leprosy and he’s just lost his girl
And I think Jenny has died,
I can see Dave’s put a drumstick in his eye.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve only come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And our music will never be stopped.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve only came to save the day.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
Reflected, an iris of colored contexts that once had reception without spectacles. I signed voluntarily the letters to a name that I sincerely wanted to keep. I tried to limit the lines that divided the print of a written statement of deliverance; a sealed inner sanctum that has remained defunct while displaced of force all along devout of a substance, my words strived to be read ingrained on paper placed in constants among summations of variables clearly he scribed drafts maintaining a patterned complex of metaphors only to contradict the expressions layered, confusing this thinker so that the reader may interpret a plausible audibility for thought looking beyond spectrums of what is to be foreseen
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:30 PM UTC
Do we, as a people, deserve to be critised?
Have we as a nation become so desensitised
to the plight of those among us who are marginalised?
Do we care nothing for the less well off, the disenfranchised?
Rents and cost of living as high as we have ever known,
numbers on the breadline and homeless have consistently grown,
so many suicides because people feel so desperate and alone,
how can we stand by and let this happen to so many of our own?
So many families torn apart and utterly devastated,
Far too many of our young people reluctantly emigrated,
People losing their homes, heartbroken and humiliated,
There is not much about this country now to be celebrated!
It’s true that during the recession most people lost a lot
But was it the booming economy that really started the rot?
Did we start judging each other by how much each had got?
Was compassion for our fellow man something we forgot?
Though going through hard times we still give much to charity
many services only possible because people work voluntarily
but the government rub their hands together with unashamed glee
Are they right to think our actions absolve them of all responsibility?
Though all of us are struggling, each with so much on our plate
Should we not come together, do something before it is too late?
Surely the plight of these our people should prompt a national debate?
to ensure our government meets the needs of every last citizen of our state.
The frightening thing is, it could so easily be you or I
left unemployed or homeless, or barely scraping by
we cannot just dismiss it, the signs are all there
and if the present is anything to go by, will anybody care?
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
At first her mind may seem to be a clutter of astronomical objects
with planets sprawling all over,
nebulae birthing everywhere,
stars tossed in random directions.
But in truth, it is not.
Staring into her eyes is like drowning in the vast galaxies,
suffocating due to the lack of air,
but doing so voluntarily.
Her mind is a beautiful collection of constellations falling into place,
with perfect planetary alignments,
completed with the most beautiful nebula that God handcrafted himself.
You see, she is just that fascinating,
you just need to look a bit closer.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
Love has some wonderful properties.
It makes you something you're not. It makes you sane and insane. It makes you humane and inhumane. It makes you sighted and blind. It makes you overly rational or illogical. It makes you somewhat childish when nothing matters. It makes you extra jealous when there's nothing.
It makes you do things you don't do. It makes you prosecute and judge your defendant, or it makes you defend your lover. Perhaps the other way around. It makes you commit ****** It makes you commit suicide. It offers you identity crisis to a certain extent, but also enough motivation, will, and power to **** just a little, somehow.
Who am I? Who am I, now? Who was I? And, who are you? Whose side are you on?
On that note, all it would take is but a feeble breeze to knock me off the edge so that I fall into endless tar. I shall sink, effortlessly, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, as the thick, obscure liquid engulfs and swallows my entire being, slowly and gently, until I'm out of breath, and perfectly erased from this world without a trace of ever having lived.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 3:56 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't hide it---we miss them:|
me being a runaway flying in the black hinges
soaring in the twinkling skies
I crave you as a hungry wolf that knows no boarders of freedom
in there in the shady street
as I dive into my vulnerability you sense my need
you sense my desperation
its like you read my locked lines
among the flowers of the highs
in the publicity of tamed crimes
you have me
running on rage
screaming on blades
the cake comes and you appear none
lying down
hating the crowds
the bargaining weight of these suicidal sounds
where are you???
nowhere to be found
leave me in yells when the time ends and dwells
this is a first in a hell
do you intend to choke me to death again???
it is me who you pressed undamned on your wided chest
and carried it all away in a mild stance
when no one dares
to a slightest bare of your cans or cares
don't forget me still not lying
still breathe for your touch
and your essence on that spot
just tell me where
and my heart will voluntarily beware
to be awaiting a hold of torments in the bliss of fair
when you mindlessly gear
affording to disappear
a night changes its shades into a million gleams
you seem to draw on my warm sheers
------ravenfeels
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 1:56 PM UTC
lost to independence
lost to familiarity
I've lost so many
to a life that
**can
not
be**
lost to distracting influences
lost to argumentative forces
so many of my friends
have been lost to various causes
I've lost friends to love, and hate
lost friends that I can't find
wandering in a field of starkness
I've lost friends to uneven stakes
and friends that have voluntarily
embraced a hug from the darkness
but,
in the end
even when you feel
I'm not your friend
I'll be there forever
because we have
*a
bond...*
I'm the anchor, to your ship
even though you drift
I can hold you, to me
because
we belong
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 8:06 AM UTC
Heart of gold
To selfless
To keep the riches to myself
Voluntarily shared the wealth
But most were taking in the form of theft
I use to be filled to the brim
Gold coins overflowing out of the chest
Now when I look inside it
There’s hardly any left
I felt each piece that was taken
Never to be returned
Maybe I should shut the lid
But that’s a lesson I haven’t learned
My heart is to big not to share
So the lid stays open
Even if there’s a risk another gold piece may be stolen
Jun 12, 2023
Jun 12, 2023 at 3:10 PM UTC
Now
You are a free oxygen radical,
you set the chain reaction
and there are more of you than I can
detoxify.
Then
I breathed you in-
-voluntarily;
you were always there,
at the end of the electron transport chain,
you broke apart
to accommodate my capricious protons
and you changed state;
for me.
Now
I am in oxidative
s
t
r
e
s
s
as you are colliding
your way through my melanocytes -
and my skin is draining white
and my eyes are burning red.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
& really, do you even mean what you say? why do we feel like a trap, you were never supposed to be a prison stay. in all actuality you freed me. i mean, at least that’s what i used to think. now i guess i just feel used. finding myself wanting to go back to the forgotten days. how'd i ever let it get this far? hell, where do i begin? your smile. your lips. a promise, never to be fulfilled. an ache, a need, a dismissed agenda. words cannot express the pain that forms when you say you don’t remember. is there something that i missed? i can’t help myself from going back. i voluntarily drown in our memories. you fill my lungs, take my breath, you can keep everything that’s left.
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 12:29 AM UTC
In a mess, I awake to the feeling
I didn’t do it,
so I puke and I crawl and I drink
just to do it all again.
At night, I am needlessly obsessive in
wasting time,
only maudlin with alcohol stained tears
alone in a bathroom stall.
In the harsh darkness, my shadow falls
to its knees
reckless and voluntarily debauched
can’t stop the sins from slipping out.
At times, I have discovered myself
to be obscene
so I scream instead of honeyed whispering
begging for the familiar collapse.
Crazed, I shake my hair out and leave
before you notice,
walking like a shameless heretic
to find the next version of myself.
For a moment, I twist and turn sour
in your mouth,
and if you thought kissing me would save me,
you were wrong.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 4:30 PM UTC