Carefree, on hemp seed, A puzzle, along with hep C, Treated like edge pieces, Touched first, then only seen. 26 ounces to freedom, Buried under flowery teachers, Empty encounters, and fools either. Cartoonish freedom, Act II, Scene I, Julius Caesar, You learn through teamwork, To hate what you love, To harm your equals. What, beyond commerce, makes poorer people? Judgement in the form of evil, Husbandry, broken femurs, Leaders, in court of reason. And probably threesomes too. But when Gordon hears a who, I never leave a room, In fact, I totally approve., Like I was told a deeper truth.
Haven't you seen the sequins? Salsa, nude beach, bean dip, There, now eat like you speak: About dreams and freedoms. Again, please... New Year, new people, You, everyone but me. Time to stand in the mirror, Cowering in fear, staring distant. Again, but not for me... I see sequins about a face, And fruit trees. My dream lives, Not in castles distant, so far away, She's serving coffee down the street.
Despite the evocation, Reduction, reprisal, Draw a circle, Around my face, eyes, nose. Triangle, circles, about my square, Protection from inside my head. I've seen males drag knuckles, on their floor, faith and culture. Their minds warped, images of war, For what did they fight? Rights, to remove the guy ropes, Scrape pavement with claws at night. Tools of change, Use of space, Use of names, True and sage. Despite the evocation, Things change. Diana wrote little of cages, Ropes below.
Gold ochres, yellow turns to orange, But the yellow never changes in you, Does it? Thorn forest, there grows roses. Though tulips, begonia warn you, The world is full of your kin, Thoroughbred horses, Who rub their backs in shit. You are a squid that inks, then drinks it. I never was no poet, caged like a rabbit, Trapped, nor boxed with lines, unknowing. You are a skunk, stinks, and eat begonias. So, though two lips beg on, like au jus, You toot, toot toot, greasy after the booze. I've seen a world full of your kin: Fools... Whose blue oceans brown in pollution, Tulips by piss puddles, without allusion. You are a fun person, is my conclusion, Maybe red can change to an orange, Blue, though, can never be less blue, You can never really be a better person, Just accept yourself, I love you.
View from Toronto, others, also. Best seen, like without follow. A shadow, born of a shadow, How can it fathom less hollow, Habitual patterns in a modern world? Coming tomorrow is gun conflicts, Cult worship, communion with objects. The coward screams like an apostle. Future prospects, like luminous stars, Lay dinosaur bones in scarlet houses. Bloodshed so widespread and obvious, Like polearms in the side of your horse, Desire and goals become simply doors, Where do theirs divide from yours? Like ingots, in fire or war.
The things he knows...
Are alike a hand that speaks in failure:
Painful flails, an esophagus.
While his mouth speaks toward disarmament,
and victims speak of the night.
So all hail the king, his rings and his might.
All the things that he owns,
Including the people as items, options
and things he derides.
So swing a knife, like a sword.
All hail the flailing arm for what it's worth,
Including the people he knows as thoughtforms and cites.
Cayenne pepper, nose.
A world alight.
A world, delight.
A wordly delight.
A world, a light,
Circles dance in the sky,
darkness seen with your eyes.
Alongside carmine, red and feathers:
prose, things they call wise
Meaningless draught, meandering feeling, Bar talk, believe not the sweet whispering, Thinking things talked in the deep darkness, They aught, talk turns to action, They are what they are. Sinking stone, mephitic toad of the ocean floor, What does the heart wish for? Winning wars? Logistic growth? Cathartic revolt? Ownership? Satan, do you hear your kindred souls? Card or cash, is all they know. They see fawns freeze in the snow, and move on, it's things seen from a car. It's part of a laundry list of misgivings, They want what they want, They are what they are.
espresso bean in the espresso machine located here in the mezzanine we serve your drinks with sweetness and cream a fountain of everlasting caffeine. espresso bean in the espresso machine and not just coffee, we also serve cuisine! the chocolate brownie is a hit with the teens huddled together near the register screen. espresso bean in the espresso machine here the noise is quite serene amidst those coming and going, a calm in-between come on over! help set the scene! espresso bean in the espresso machine week after month, to form a routine yet the tasks of today remain unseen ‘tis the life of those on the library team.
Atlas reaches, Earth teeters, Who cares who stares beneath. Apples, peaches, pears, kiwis: Tree, what are seed to thee? Tree, what are seeds to be? Blue, what does it mean, to be Green? Views beyond what one has seen. Speed, a pace, to place them at the peak, Then recede, what decides its meaning? Perhaps at the roots, the soil is gleaning, But at the root, a house teeters, Tepid falling upon the cedar greens, Of course, Of no fault to me, I feel. Accepted outcomes of little dreams, Confused with death, drift out to sea.
The creaking of the pines elicits icy shivers, like steel fingers raked upon a naked spine, pine needles quivering like jagged splinters jabbed into desperate thirsty veins Slivers of pain, slices of sorrow, glimpsed through the gaping cracks between the bark, as stark winds whisper then wail weaving twisted tales of ennui and despair Oh, the horrors they have seen while the sun giggles and gleams from her corner of the forest peering from her perch amid the heavens, her cackles seep into the earth to settle among the dirt and the decay As the emerald canopy leads the lost souls astray through the labyrinth of decomposing leaves, corpses cast off from the trees, disrobing before the fastidious eyes of their maker, undertakers laying out their palls for the weak and broken to bear
Drawing breath, intending a scream, Time passes, wake from dreaming, Sometimes excessive zeal demeans, So squeak like the law itself, Garlic men, in the broadest sense, Concentrate on the bread when pressed, But what of butter and how it melts? Even of appalling strength, Does it correspond to depth, or meaning? Rocking chair, what have you seen, Beside the bedside and people watching? Even if time lacking, population immense, Despite desperate pleas: fences.
If you Really Saw Me What would you do if I told you all my secrets? The ones pulled from deepest trenches, darkest corners. Scraped them like the drippings of my innermost self Onto your proverbial plate Would you push them all back? Demand a reverse regurgitation Of all that was ugly in me And pretend you never saw Would you sift through my soul? Stir a fork through all that is me, Looking for the parts you can use, Discarding the rest Would you shatter the plate against the wall? Shards of me on display for all to see, Lay me bare in front of the eyes of the world And laugh at the tears streaming red down my face Or would you love me just the same? As my inner enigma bleeds over the porcelain edges As you see all the sides unseen Would you smile at my uncloseted skeletons? Would you hold my empty vessel self and fill me with the light, the love, my soul needs? What would you do if I told you all my secrets?
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
Single planet of written language, Little matters of bigger battles: Mirror dragons, bitter captains, Speaking lingua franca to a pier. 'They see not what is near' Between fits of passion, screams, Film seen backward, guarantees, Hears nothing but laughter.
You would not believe your eyes If you seen all the dark thoughts, I keep at tide inside my head If only that was true, I can no longer control these racing thought, I'm a danger to myself I've succumb to pain, I've felt numb for too long I inflict pain to just feel something, Thoughts constantly racing Never a chance to think straight, I've found a healthy affliction In the pain I inflict upon myself, I can feel it now Like cardiac arrest, The slip of the chair The tension around my neck, Ill try my best, The pull of the blade Against my wrist, I've been trying my best How much do I invest, Before its all over No longer numb, My Demons They catch me when I slip, Motor control loss Mindless acts, Just a permanent solution To a temporary feeling, Exactly how long is temporary All i want is for this living nightmare to be over, These demons consuming me alive Fighting is no longer a solution, Don't stop me now I know now noone would shed a tear, Noone would shutter a sound To stop me, Forget yesterday I dont wanna see tomorrow, Remember when you told me That I was better off dead, I knew it from the start I was never any good to anyone, You can believe it When im not here tomorrow, Today I find something great Today I find a Healthy Affliction.
-Do you see this empathy i have? The sincerity i have? The forgiveness i have chosen to give? For not just my mistakes but yours, i'm willing to forgive. Sorry, that was a lie! I can't forgive. Not for 'how not bothered you are of how little you have seen. But maybe the fact you have never wanted to even get to know me. Never really knowed me. I suppose i can never understand/get over just how quickly you disowned me. Maby you could at least help me see your point of view, whatever it may be- It will help me to at least get a glimpse of me-e
Wheels but partition, A PALS secrets, Foreseen at distance, No team so clean, A fallacy hideous. She spins the wheel, deals, A vowel to vie, consonant, She speaks volumes, columns, A fool to buy love constant, For I is one you cannot buy, She screams from the distance.
Quoth the stone road. “Does a slug judge blood in a cut?” “I’ve seen a sponge pull the snow into it’s lungs.” “How does brush on a bluff approach a shrub?” Roads groan in prose as such that the dove dove and the grove was lush. Lots of berries for the nature boys. Pure love it ’twas.