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HeartstringsI felt like a vice
That verdict like a scar
Wrap around my breathing muscles
And crush them
Like glass, splintering into my ribcage
Tumbling through my organs like a cancer
I felt like a noose
That verdict like a scar
Snake around my brain
And squeeze it
Like clay, shaping life into a clever little mold
Draining into my body like a hurricane
And I felt
Like an axe
That verdict like a scar
Slither, ever so quietly, into my life line
Like a snake, sneaking up to his pray
And killing him
Injecting venom into my life steam so quickly
I thought I had died
But little did I know
That was just the bite
Feathersmy words were tiny wooden airplanes
speeding through the universe
as fast as dust.
they strung themselves up on
wires made of fear, attatched
to Venus by the thorns
of the thistle that killed me so long ago.
they searched for a landing place in
Her mind, but got sidetracked
when Her lips spoke the word
Viewpoints.We create ourselves
And we are merely
The products of
Who we perceive ourselves to be
Perceive us to be
So who am I?
Bullshit LiteraturePeople don't write poetry anymore.
No one lets the moon's silver soul slip,
from the end of a fountain pen,
into the only Earthly existence it will ever hold.
Alas, even I am writing this
with a keyboard.
DiseaseSometimes I inhale too many different emotions and they stack up inside my rib cage, tearing at my lungs and weighing me down like bricks. I want to scream to get them out but the wider I open my mouth, the further into my body they sink, determined to intertwine themselves with the fibers of my body. I want to move, flail, dance to get them out but it's like sewing them into my stomach and I'm so overcome that I can't speak or move or think and all I can do is sit and wait and feel these emotions until they sink away into my feet. They're beginning to pile up now, and some days it's hard to walk because they're so heavy, filling me past my knees and it makes me wonder, what am I going to do when they replace the nature echoing inside of me? Because emotions can't be all I have left, I'll lose my mind and my control and be forever a slave to those little airborne parasites that stitched themselves into my airways so long ago.
I Gave My Heart To JulyI gave my heart to July,
In the hopes that he would tug on my heartstrings
And extract my wildest dreams
With his delicate twine fingers
From my mind.
I gave my heart to July,
During the end of this disquieting June
So hopefully he would be able
To smother the fluttering in my ribcage.
I gave my heart to July,
And poured my soul out to him
Laying its indigo ether
On a simple porcelain plate
For him to feed into the dusk.
I gave my heart to July,
And he knew I was his,
Even though we danced seperately,
I in his brother June,
He in the depths of the cosmos,
Waiting breathlessly for his reunion with mother Earth.
I gave my heart to July,
Knowing full well that many other young, desperate girls
May do the same, have done the same,
Because I prayed that he would see deep into my essence
And discern my want for a change,
My prayer for a future.
Noble TreesIf a tree were to walk into an office building
What would he say?
Would he moan about how his roots
Have been destroyed, torn, tarnished?
Would he cry about how his brothers
Have been murdered carelessly?
By axemen, by humans.
Or would he sit, silently,
And pity the fact that humanity
Had been shamelessly murdered?
Suicidal TreesIf you could know
What the walls know
Would you choose to know it?
Would you choose to re-watch
What you've done
How you've lied, cried, and
Within these walls?
Would you choose to relive
All the joys, laughs, and
And take away the singularity
Of the bliss?
And after you've commenced being selfish
Would you resign yourself to watch
The building of these walls
And how the earth groaned
When they were born?
Could you cope with the knowledge
That your comfort destroyed thousands of tiny lives
And would you be able to feel the stress, fear, and
Anger of the walls?
Because you are not the only one
To live between these walls, which are
The trees you have tried to build.
The Unsurprising Tale of Jacklyn I couldn’t believe that I was finally starting high school. I made sure to avoid orientation, as it would have been very difficult to convince the staff that I was not masculine after an initial meeting. So, I dropped in unannounced, dressed and perked up in a way that was unsuspecting.
I tried my best to make sure that I was not caught, and when I returned home I discarded my form instantaneously to make sure my parents didn’t see. For if they knew what I was doing, I was sure to live in the streets over by the ditch on the road to the supercenter like all the burnt out junkies. I did feel sorry for them, having to walk around all day in the sun and then sleep in a ditch or under some other person’s porch.
I was able to get with the other girls’ sports programs almost flawlessly. And within the first week, I was already making a small name for myself in the girls’ basketball team. Playing wasn’t the hardest
What if...What if...
After knowing your husband for years and years, you didn't actually know him? You had children with this man, you went through thick and thin with him; however, the whole time you were married to him, he kept a dirty little secret. He managed to keep this secret until one day, he received a letter in the mail, and you decided to open it first.
I was the one who sent that letter. Why did I send the letter? You might think I wanted to expose his dirty laundry, but my reason for doing this was far from superficial. I had never had the opportunity that he had the ability to give. Not to me of course, but to his son. The son you never knew existed...
If this happened to you, what would you do? Would you be mad? Of course you would be. Even if you never came out and said, "Honey, do you have any children I don't know about?", it's still lying by omission. I guess the big question is, would you accept his son?
Buffet Food ForeverA bad friend is like someone who eats at
a buffet line and thinks its all for free.
The BrokenHis day started like any other. He woke up at 10:32 a.m. exactly; he ate his makeshift breakfast; he brushed his teeth with a makeshift toothbrush, and he left his makeshift home. Such was the routine, never ceasing, not even for a nanosecond. The man rubbed his tired eyes, the daylight dancing around him.
It was time.
Yes, it was time again to sit on the corner of the old, worn-down street of the old worn-down city that he claimed as home, hoping that someone would come to his aid.
Someone… Something… Anything…
‘Why is the universe so cruel?’ he wondered silently, ‘why does it love to cause me pain?’
There was a sound. Movement.
He quickly turned his head toward the tapping of footsteps, at least, he thought they were footsteps. Could it possibly be the someone or something that would rescue him from the dark despair that his current situation had to offer?
He gazed at the corner of the dingy building, anticipating his del
IndependenceIf you shoot me
Nothing will change
Despite your attempts
Each moment is mine
Perhaps you will feel better
Every time you contain our actions
Nothing can stop us
Death is a favor
Even if it's early
Never think you won
Certain people will live forever
Everlasting and perfect
No sooner had the door closed softly than the sky opened frenzied and demanding.
As if to echo relief; as if to echo wanting; as if to let loose remaining words left impatient and electrified in the air. The fire and light that assaulted the senses was accompanied by – too quickly and too out of any semblance of pace – an imposing boom that set the world trembling. And it left us at once recognized and cowering.
Lost within the tantrums of the heavens and the careless flood of referenced duality - a black bird sat,
wanting nothing more than the freedom of wings and the quarter of open air innate of its being, patiently, until I gave turn to notice. He, in a space barely holding his shape at the window sill, likely neither the most easily discovered nor gentle location, found what was needed and of relative comfort for the time. As the winds and rains raged, he pushed himself against the glass, seeking that small, random, by-chanced place of safety. I was honored and hoped i
Just a Little Jetski Ride It's a feeling like no other. The adrenaline, the excitement, the absolute freedom. I forget to be worried about every little thing; I forget my problems. I forget about friends, family, and acquaintances. It's only me, gliding across the water at impossible speeds, and the wind attacking my eyes, ears, and hair.
But, I don't care about that. All I care about is the freedom. Free from the thoughts of others. Free from responsibilities. Free from stress.
I'm soaring! Flying high above the dark clouds of negativity, forever bathed in the light of happiness. I've no need to find the occasional burst of sun peeking through the dark mass over my head. The storm clouds cleared away and left a rainbow of positivity in it's wake.
Even as Shane slows down to bring us ashore, the rainbow stays. The assortment of colors radiates through my body, taking over me.
Beautiful. Bright. Happy. And most of all, free.
Generalized Anxiety DisorderH met a woman at the bar. H liked the woman at the bar so he missed the last train for her. They drank mojitos. The woman at the bar talked about the interconnectedness between the universe and all of the objects within it etc.
The woman at the bar invited H back to her apartment. The apartment was very chillin. The woman had a terrarium of Macaqs in the middle of her apartment. H said “your monkeys are very pretty” and the woman said thank you.
H and the woman made out.
Then, they took off their clothes. It was when they disrobed that H noticed something very weird.
“Where in the wide world of sports are your nipples?” H said. The woman indeed had 2 breasts, but 0 nipples. This woman was a freak of nature.
“Fuck,” said H. “Are you a man?”
The woman laughed a high, feminine laugh. “Wait,” she said, “you mean you didn’t know what all happ
Rocking Out"Off Stage Guitar.: That's what the giant yellow sign said. I enjoyed the many shows going on up and down this street.
There are lots of musicians around this place called 6th street. You could see them jamming. I was bobbing my head and rocking out. When the guitarists saw me rocking out they rocked harder and smiled at me. It was awesome. Everybody put their hands up and said "woo" when I was rocking out.
My name is Stephen but I go by steve. I do the whole correct-the-teacher thing at school. I don't play guitar myself. I play guitar hero though. I am 23 years old and my lifedream is to design videogames which I am attending the art institute in Dallas for.
I've had a drink of alcohol. I drank pink margaritas with my dad. The No Doubt concert was too loud. I liked the off stage guitar better. I think I am a little bit drunk.
My dad and I laughed drunkenly together a
ParisI want my life to be soft. I want it to be nothing but sunrises and twilight, sunflares and moonlight. I don't want to have to deal with noontimes, or 3:32 pm, or 9-o-clock in the morning. Nothing interesting ever happens at 9. It's between the horizon and the sky. It's between the croissants and the salads. It's water. It's melted butter on a sidewalk that's just begun to grow hot. It's a young female's strawberry smoothie that isn't actually a smoothie at all, just pink powdered protein and water because society told her that 200 pounds is 200 too many and she's caved.
My life is full of noontimes. Hot ones, rainy ones, briskly cold yet sunny noontimes. 12 in the afternoon is society's breaking point. It's the point where those who got up with the sun begin to lose their minds, and those who got up with the moon don't have any left. It makes it strikingly obvious that those who elect to wake at noon never, ever had a mind at all.
dead dog julyI.
the summer heat lays limp in the city’s lap,
breathing long oppressive breaths.
it does not even lift its lolling head
to bark out hoarse indignancy
when a strange man brings the mail.
there might be heavy rain today,
brought by some swollen, murmuring cloud.
the world will whirl and howl,
then settle down,
to die a little more.
o, quickly, love,
press your back against the wall in fear
as the universe spreads her arms and
shuts her eyes
and starts to summon the end of all things.
come with me
to the place of windows full of speechless afternoon
hot windy whispers of half-formed solutions and resolutions,
sweltering sunlit meadows we’ll wander and then forget.
o quickly, love,
let’s to the season of forgetting
and unwind all of our harshest memories
and fill the universe’s mouth
with mute cotton.
i’ll whisper these words to you some evening
with all my exigency in the hand i rest on your arm—
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