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    1. Faerie Desperado

      Old legends what spoke of the fae Said “cold iron must be used in the fray” Bore great axe ‘gainst brownie The first chord made it flee ‘Twas Heavy Metal what had won this day

      6 votes
    2. [untitled]

      In Feudal Japan Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi Tea Party Ninja Assassin of Joy Bringer of His Mighty Wind Most Fetid of Stench For a Tidy Fee Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi Would Disturb Your Foes Piercing Defenses...

      In Feudal Japan
      Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
      Tea Party Ninja


      Assassin of Joy
      Bringer of His Mighty Wind
      Most Fetid of Stench


      For a Tidy Fee
      Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
      Would Disturb Your Foes


      Piercing Defenses
      Buddha Alone Knew His Tread
      In and Out, Unseen


      But Never Un-Smelt
      Kaze no Tsuyoi Nioi
      Bearing Bowels Most Foul

      7 votes
    3. Sisyphus.

      This isn’t what I want it to be. I’ve just had too many to care. Most days I don’t need any to not care. Yet I smile at them; servers and baristas. Try hard, smile, look happy. Maybe they’ll think...

      This isn’t what I want it to be. I’ve just had too many to care.

      Most days I don’t need any to not care.

      Yet I smile at them; servers and baristas.

      Try hard, smile, look happy.

      Maybe they’ll think you’re cute.

      You arrogant shit.

      “Sisyphus!

      Arrogant twat,

      How shall you pay

      For the sins you’ve wrought?

      I’ll hang your dreams

      In delicate swathe

      And leave you to work

      Forever for naught.

      .

      Sisyphus!

      You “god” among men

      I’ll number your days

      Count them by hand

      While you work, serve

      Slave to my end

      Your bones will strain

      And bend.

      .

      Sisyphus!

      You represent

      The whole that is wrong

      With the common man

      I’ll make you sweat,

      And I’ll make you beg

      (That) one day you’ll be free

      Again!”

      .

      Dear Sisyphus,

      I know your soul.

      Your struggle is mine

      And we share the goal

      That work, work, will come

      To an end

      And we’ll live again

      As free men.

      .

      Sisyphus,

      I hear your cries –

      Your yelps of pain

      In the dead of night

      When your muscles strain

      And your mind ain’t right

      My brother

      Your pain is mine!

      .

      Gods above –!

      Rescue me!

      .

      Sisyphus!

      I’m you, incarnate.

      I do my work and

      Sing my songs in

      Hope the gods will

      Hear my plea

      And one day

      set me free.

      .

      I am he!

      I aloud decree,

      assuming Sisyphus’

      identity.

      I live his plight,

      beg myself free

      that I’ll find a

      love for me.

      .

      SISYPHUS.

      THIS IS YOUR WROUGHT.

      YOUR MERIT THE PAIN,

      THIS DAY YOU’VE SOUGHT.

      YOU KNOW YOUR SINS

      AND NOW YOU BEG

      THAT YOU MAY FRESH BEGIN

      .

      THE GODS WILL REMEMBER

      SINS IN DECEMBER;

      DRAG YOUR SOUL DOWN

      DEEP TO THE EMBER.

      YOU AS THE KINDLE

      YOU AND YOUR KINFOLK

      FOREVER LIGHT OUR WAY.

      .

      SISYPHUS.

      “IMMACULATE.”

      WHAT A SHAME YOU’LL FIND

      COME END YOUR FATE

      WHEN THE TRUTH REVEALS

      YOUR LOVE IS FAKE.

      5 votes
    4. Mountaintops.

      Apologies for the spam. This may be the last one today; worst-case there's only one more coming. I see you, pretty home, with your couch, your floor, and kitchen. I see your sign there, hoping...

      Apologies for the spam. This may be the last one today; worst-case there's only one more coming.

      I see you, pretty home,

      with your couch, your floor, and kitchen.

      I see your sign there, hoping

      that I might call and visit.

      I want to tour your space

      and dream of how I'd fill it.

      What chair, what bed, what rug,

      and if it could home a kitten.

      .

      I can see a career

      that let's me furnish you to 9.

      I faintly feel a hope

      that one day you might be mine.

      I teeter on a plan

      that I could start, if energized

      that would lead me to you

      if I could try, and all went right.

      .

      A fireplace in cold,

      you'd stay lit, always, in orange.

      the warmest of colors

      keeps my mind free of contortion.

      Your firm, solid structure

      Keeps me confident, supported.

      What a beautiful dream;

      I hope, one day, to afford it.

      5 votes
    5. Boulder.

      are you so thirsty you would drink your own blood? do you feel so dirty that you bathe in wet mud? are you so alone that you make talk with yourself? are you so afraid that you, your own friends,...

      are you so thirsty

      you would drink your own blood?

      do you feel so dirty

      that you bathe in wet mud?

      are you so alone

      that you make talk with yourself?

      are you so afraid

      that you, your own friends, repel?

      .

      would you clean your skin with acid

      just to feel pure within your casket?

      would you feed on rot and mold

      in attempt to feed your soul?

      are you so cold, your blankets worn,

      you'd set your home ablaze for warmth?

      do you so fear the words you'll hear

      you'll drive metal spears into your ears?

      .

      are you so broken

      and without any help

      you would crack your own skull

      and find some gold to smelt

      in hopes you leave your corpse

      a void kintsugi shell?

      if not; then why, dear brain,

      do you want to burn yourself

      7 votes
    6. I don’t care for haiku

      “Haiku number 6, Alright, let’s get into it. Shit – I’m out of room.” edit: This is so not what I expected from the comments, and I'm very pleased with it. Have fun folks!

      21 votes
    7. Pins and needles

      Pins and needles in my left leg. As I minimally move they acute and grave. I sleep, I shall wake up; what will it have been: a circumflex, or an umlaut?

      10 votes
    8. 500 Rubber Band Challenge!! [Not Clickbait] [Crazy] [Graphic]

      Is it self-inflating to label one's own work as graphic? (It is kinda graphic, clickbait title aside.) This doesn't even really capture the right imagery I was trying to go for. Might just have to...

      Is it self-inflating to label one's own work as graphic? (It is kinda graphic, clickbait title aside.)

      This doesn't even really capture the right imagery I was trying to go for.

      Might just have to re-write this idea into a completely different piece, I'm not sure. (mfw literally "felt creative idk might delete later")

      The "ball" was supposed to really be a watermelon, because we've all seen that YouTube video where they explode a watermelon with rubber bands, but I didn't leave myself enough space to develop that transition from ball to melon properly. (Brand new sentence?)

      Why am I even posting this if I feel its unfinished?

      Who knows.

      Anyway let's get to the thing here it is vvvvvvvvv

      slip.

      twist.

      smack.

      10 rubber bands on a ball

      all hold each other taut

      the inception of a toy

      that will quick be left for naught

      but brings a momentary joy - its only cause.

      .

      work.

      stoa.

      sweat.

      hustle on, man, that's your call

      you gotta love your boss.

      it's the struggle of a boy.

      that you never would be caught

      while feeling tears or overwhelm - lest you be mocked.

      .

      smack.

      stretch.

      strain.

      100 rubber bands slap

      starting slightly straining

      its appearances are coy,

      the ball slowly rolls to stop.

      picked up and bounced against the floor - it doesn't pop.

      .

      work.

      stare.

      grind.

      expectations are my all.

      you dream of taking off -

      escape makes you overjoyed

      daily grind just puts your off.

      your brain it strains against the skull - stressing nonstop.

      .

      pop

      waste

      spill

      500 rubber bands smack

      crushing and constraining

      such a carnage to enjoy

      they start rolling out the mops.

      the ball explodes onto the floor - as if a prop

      .

      rip

      slice

      tear.

      my fists crash into the walls.

      my skin, just rip it off

      rip out the bone, leave me void

      naked muscle growing moss.

      wrap rubber bands around my head until it pops.

      6 votes
    9. What do you think of when you think of fluorescent blue?

      What a beautiful night the stars are out like tiny pinprick holes in the sky illuminating our soft gray subtle shadows as we chat about life and random fluff and the moon shines through your dress...

      What a beautiful night
      the stars are out
      like tiny pinprick holes in the sky
      illuminating our soft gray subtle shadows
      as we chat about life and random fluff
      and the moon shines through your dress
          making it
                  transparent

      Back to my car
      a night full of passion.
      Come the morning: I stop and reflect.
      What could my life have been?
      If I had missed all this,
                  this artifice and sin?
      For you are only silicone,
      your dress a splotchy sheet
      The stars are a cheap plastic disco ball
      I bought it from goodwill for 97¢.
      My car's no more than a fluorescent-stained couch.

      Alas, alas for me
      I must do better—yes, I will!
      (I steel my resolve)
      (I know what I must do)
      (my heart, it pains me so!
      For you have been so good to me, and thus I will repay you?)

       

       

       

       

       

      I did it, threw you in the trash;
      I'll hire a human whore tomorrow

      8 votes
    10. June.

      You know they’ve got poetry on Spotify? That’s some cool shit. Ended up following John Cooper Clarke into a rabbit hole of other British poets. Decided to bite and try writing a bit of poetry for...

      You know they’ve got poetry on Spotify? That’s some cool shit. Ended up following John Cooper Clarke into a rabbit hole of other British poets.

      Decided to bite and try writing a bit of poetry for poetry’s sake.

      Anyway. ‘Ere go. “June.”

      I thought your voice was music

      And your beauty - work of art.

      I found your jokes amusing,

      Ponygirl, a golden heart.

      Your company, a journey

      Which I never could depart

      I really felt I loved you,

      Well, I did once, at the start.

      .

      See, music can be different

      Some songs good, and others crap.

      Some begin melodically,

      Then get crashing in a snap.

      Starting subtle violins,

      Then it blares with metal scrap

      They lure you malevolent

      Some music is a trap.

      .

      Some artists Donatello,

      Others Jackson Pollock.

      Some art goes well with wine,

      Some turns you alcoholic.

      Some is deep and intricate,

      Some is purely bollocks

      Can’t call this a masterpiece

      I’m not sure what to call it.

      .

      Thought your lips were pure cuisine

      And your beauty - work of art.

      I never thought the kitchen

      Would have mold and rot at heart.

      The oven sent asunder

      All the counters ripped apart

      You’re a diner with one dish,

      And it’s a dry and sour tart.

      7 votes
    11. magmatic rock, is one of the three main rock types, the others being sedimentary and metamorphic.

      Light it up hit the stage hit the dance floor. Fight enough start a riot there's a chance for love to grow for the hate to transform Feeling these knots in my head am I deformed? . Feel like my...

      Light it up

      hit the stage

      hit the dance floor.

      Fight enough

      start a riot

      there's a chance for

      love to grow

      for the hate

      to transform

      Feeling these

      knots in my head

      am I deformed?

      .

      Feel like my

      head, my heart,

      a rock show.

      Is this peace

      or pain, I

      do not know.

      I can't close

      my eyes and

      the clock's slow

      Pray I'll

      kill myself

      in Chicago

      .

      My head pounds

      bass drum

      memories of,

      days when you

      and I meshed

      and we made love.

      Wish that I

      went and bought you

      all your makeup.

      Maybe some money's

      all we needed

      to makeup

      .

      Feel like my

      head, my heart,

      a rock show.

      Is this peace

      or pain, I

      do not know.

      I can't close

      my eyes and

      the clock's slow

      Pray I'll

      kill myself

      in Chicago

      .

      With hate your

      voice went shrill

      you went cold.

      Who's this girl

      beside me

      don't know.

      Wake up in

      the morning pain

      or comfort?

      All your screaming

      I wanna go

      Van Gogh

      .

      Feel like my

      head, my heart,

      a rock show.

      Is this peace

      or pain, I

      do not know.

      I can't close

      my eyes and

      the clock's slow

      Pray I'll

      kill myself

      in Chicago

      9 votes
    12. Hand to God

      Father God I've got a favor to ask of you. . It is said you can justify the hell I knew. . So now I raise my tired eyes to the morning blue. . God above, I've got a favor to ask of you. . If I...

      Father God

      I've got a favor

      to ask of you.

      .

      It is said

      you can justify

      the hell I knew.

      .

      So now I raise

      my tired eyes

      to the morning blue.

      .

      God above,

      I've got a favor

      to ask of you.

      .

      If I don't wake up

      dead in the morning

      could you stand by me

      if just for a moment

      give pause to the pain

      put a break to the moaning

      while I'm stuck in this mind

      and I just can't control it.

      .

      If you're gonna drag me out

      of my bed in the morning

      then I ask I wake in

      a place I feel at home and

      I can pour a little brown, light

      a green, and get to hoping

      that I'll find good work,

      good love, and consoling.

      .

      Ya Allah

      Ana mish aerif

      Ana riyeh feyn.

      .

      My head

      is clouded, dark

      and the sky is grey.

      .

      I've found

      I hate the sun,

      and dance in the rain.

      .

      And at night,

      I close my eyes,

      dream of the grave.

      .

      If you're gonna drag me out

      of my bed in the morning

      then I ask I wake in

      a place I feel at home and

      I can pour a little brown, light

      a green, and get to hoping

      that I'll find good work,

      good love, and consoling.

      8 votes
    13. Bishop The Musician

      <Insert intro explaining the lack of an intro.> raindrop on the tongue of the parched, de- flated beach ball in the hands of the young, lit cig 'tween the fingers of a nun, one sin's never gonna... <Insert intro explaining the lack of an intro.>
      raindrop

      on the tongue

      of the parched, de-

      flated beach ball

      in the hands of the young, lit

      cig 'tween the fingers

      of a nun,

      one sin's never gonna be enough

      fuck the prose

      words will never be enough.

      the writing's on the walls

      but you can't read it

      you aren't here

      i need a sign you

      can't ignore or a call

      you're bound to hear

      .

      the words just aren't enough

      on their own

      to pull my heart strings

      i can't find peace

      without my blood

      on guitar strings.

      .

      the words are going cold

      the poetry has not a heartbeat.

      i need to take the stage

      and pray to god that they can't see me.

      8 votes
    14. Lakeside Property

      Not sure why I always feel the need to preface these with something. Feels weird not to. As if I'm just "Hey chump, here's a poem, read it." Y'all hear that Lil Nas X track "Old Town Road" yet?...

      Not sure why I always feel the need to preface these with something.

      Feels weird not to. As if I'm just "Hey chump, here's a poem, read it."

      Y'all hear that Lil Nas X track "Old Town Road" yet? Never knew I needed to hear Billy Ray Cyrus on a trap beat until it happened.

      If that blends your smoothie, you might also like "Like A Farmer" x Lil Tracy ft. Lil Uzi Vert

      I like this whole hickhop wave coming through. Cool to see people playing around with genre-bending.

      For all those "that's not real country" folk, here's some Cody Jinks and some Brown Bird (technically blues I think, fight me.)

      Anyway, here's the thing. Feel free to read it. If anyone here uses one of those e-reader speech things for the vision-impaired, how does this sound? Does the reader have any rhythm to it, or does it just feed you line after line?

      Alright closing out for real. Later.

      I thought something strange

      skeleton felt out the closet

      In the house, the paint

      kept peeling off the walls

      and on the bed, decay

      as the wood went rotten

      Never could build a house,

      made a life making coffins.

      .

      In the morn, I wake

      and the skies are grey and cloudy

      Turn to kiss my babe,

      is it love me or get off me

      and my head, it aches

      the anxiety is starting

      so I say fuck it all and I make me some coffee.

      .

      Lips on me -

      desire.

      Arsonist

      with a lighter.

      Feed my soul,

      make the heart burn.

      Where there's smoke

      there is fire.

      .

      An infant strand-

      ed out there in the snow

      Sh'said "Babe there's a chill,

      you'd better close the door."

      Close your rain-

      bow, there's no pot of gold.

      And there's no one to sing

      you any songs of your home.

      .

      Fill my art-

      eries with bourbon old

      Loverboy

      til I am dead and gone

      Rip off my skin

      and leave my body cold

      My son,

      the devil

      is a pretty blonde.

      .

      And I said

      Mama

      I’m tired.

      My hands shake

      My eyes burn.

      Hair’s thin

      Heart afire.

      My lovely little lover was a liar.

      .

      Closed the door,

      the hinge broke.

      No chimney

      house filled smoke.

      Scents arose

      of burnt mold.

      A lake of blood and

      guilt can't support a home.

      9 votes
    15. For now.

      Hi everyone. Hello to all the new faces who don't know my name - (or how out of character it is that there are capital letters in this post!) This isn't really for you - or for anyone in...

      Hi everyone.

      Hello to all the new faces who don't know my name - (or how out of character it is that there are capital letters in this post!) This isn't really for you - or for anyone in particular I guess; I just wanted to write something to those who have followed my work on here.

      So, you.

      Howdy.

      It's been a minute.

      I just wanted to give you all a quick update; let you know that I'm safe. I've had a few of you reach out to me since my last post. I hope I didn't scare anybody.

      For those interested - things... aren't all that better now, hahaha. Sorry.

      But the good news is, they're trending up in a really good way.

      I've decided to stop drinking for awhile; I figured that isn't really helping my cause at this point. I'll pick that back up when there's something worth celebrating, when I'm in better company, and when I'm back in control of myself.

      I've started getting a lot more interviews for work; shouldn't be long now until I have a position landed and I'm back to being a functioning adult.

      And uh - I started therapy. Been about a month now. I like my therapist, they're very sweet, very weird in a fun/eclectic kind of way. (My kinda person.) And that's been going well.

      In fact, that's part of this.

      It's not just Tildes I abandoned.

      I've let a lot of very important people to be fall to the wayside lately - total isolation. Tonight, I started calling them back, apologizing, letting them know what was going on. And that's gone well so far.

      Now I'm here doing the same for you.

      I don't know if I'll be back on Tildes all too frequently. There's a lot on here I might just need to let rest.

      So I just wanted to say that I'm here. I love you. I'm sorry. And, bye.

      For now.


      eyes crackle open

      half past three

      stomach on fire and

      my body feels meek

      i stumble out my chair

      and here the creak in my knees

      you're only in your twenties

      and you're living ninety

      .

      my head feels funny

      and i'm tired of the numbing

      and there's too much week

      at the end of my money

      a little bumblebee lost

      wishing for his honey

      beat my head against the hive

      until the world starts buzzing

      and it falls.

      .

      and i

      set

      foot

      down

      on that unpaved road

      step

      forward like an orphan

      on a search for a home

      walk

      forward hand to God

      if he answers my call

      honey (i'll) be

      leaving for now

      hope it won't be long

      .

      soul

      full of gravel and

      a heart made of gold

      imma

      face my music and

      play my song

      send

      me down to hell

      if it rights my wrongs

      honeybee

      i'm leaving for now

      hope it won't be long.

      15 votes
    16. National Poetry Writing Month!

      April is National Poetry Month. It's also National/Global Poetry Writing Month, where participants write a poem a day for every day in April. I'm doing it this year, and was wondering if any other...

      April is National Poetry Month. It's also National/Global Poetry Writing Month, where participants write a poem a day for every day in April. I'm doing it this year, and was wondering if any other tilderiños were as well. I'm a little late on the post, but there's still time to catch up!

      9 votes
    17. A poem in honor of Lawrence Ferlinghetti's upcoming 100th birthday.

      #19 by Lawrence Ferlinghetti So rent a museum and see yourself in mirrors- In every room an exposition of a different phase in your life with all your figures and faces and pictures of all the...
                                                    #19 by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
      

      So rent a museum
      and see yourself in mirrors-
      In every room an exposition
      of a different phase in your life
      with all your figures and faces
      and pictures of all the people who
      passed through you
      and all the scenes
      you passed through
      all the landscapes of living
      and longing and desiring
      and spending and getting
      and doing and dying
      and sighing and laughing and crying
      (what antic gesturing!)
      And walking through the house of yourself
      you climb again to all
      the rooms of youself
      full of the other lives & selves
      who passed through them
      Rooms rooms rooms
      piled up haphazard
      in the architecture of time
      And all the bodies clinging to each other
      or rushing to windows
      to break out of the room
      which they boxed themselves into
      All the people of your life
      in one house in the night
      all lights lit
      like a cruise ship at sea
      And you run up and down
      knocking on all the doors
      through which you hear
      all the once-familiar voices
      laughing or sobbing or singing
      And you run to the roof
      and look up to the mute night sky
      And in the wheeling template of stars
      see the faces of the figures
      of the lovely lovers who
      had once made time stand still
      now all fixed
      in their constellated relations
      motionless in time

      So that
      some day
      as time bends around
      to its beginning again
      you find them all again
      and yourself

      4 votes
    18. Workshop Wednesday II: we're back!

      Hey everyone, thanks to you who posted in the original Workshop Wednesday; I think it went really well! Here we are for week 2 (sorry it took me til noon, I was busy this morning!) Some questions:...

      Hey everyone, thanks to you who posted in the original Workshop Wednesday; I think it went really well! Here we are for week 2 (sorry it took me til noon, I was busy this morning!)

      Some questions:

      • do we need a new topic every week? Or will one be enough?
      • any other comments/suggestions?

      Please begin your comment with [META] to discuss these. Otherwise, I'll copy and paste the guidelines from last week.


      What's a workshop?

      Basically, a workshop is when you have a bunch of people with poems or stories they've written, and everyone gets together, reads everyone's work, and comments on it, sharing what they got out of it and what the author could do to improve the work for publication. I used to do a lot of them in college, and I've missed the dynamic since graduating. I thought others might also be interested, so here goes nothing.

      How this'll work (for now, anyway)

      Each week, I'll post a "Workshop Wednesday" post. If you have a poem or (short) story you'd like workshopped, post that as a top comment. Then, read others' top comments and reply with what works/doesn't work/questions you have/ideas you have for the piece that could make it better. If you post some writing, try to comment on at least two other people's pieces as well -- we're here to help each other improve.

      10 votes
    19. Workshop Wednesday: Post a poem/story/writing-thing and get feedback!

      So I was talking to @cadadr in this thread about starting a workshop on Tildes, and since today makes for an alliterative title, I thought I'd start one now. What's a workshop? Basically, a...

      So I was talking to @cadadr in this thread about starting a workshop on Tildes, and since today makes for an alliterative title, I thought I'd start one now.

      What's a workshop?

      Basically, a workshop is when you have a bunch of people with poems or stories they've written, and everyone gets together, reads everyone's work, and comments on it, sharing what they got out of it and what the author could do to improve the work for publication. I used to do a lot of them in college, and I've missed the dynamic since graduating. I thought others might also be interested, so here goes nothing.

      How this'll work (for now, anyway)

      Each week, I'll post a "Workshop Wednesday" post. If you have a poem or (short) story you'd like workshopped, post that as a top comment. Then, read others' top comments and reply with what works/doesn't work/questions you have/ideas you have for the piece that could make it better. If you post some writing, try to comment on at least two other people's pieces as well -- we're here to help each other improve.

      Going forward

      Since this is the first one, obviously we can change the format or do something else. Please start meta-discussions with the word [META] so that we know it's not a poem you're trying to workshop!

      I'm excited. Let's do this!

      20 votes
    20. art is trash.

      hiiiiiii everybody guess who drunk for the first time this year ayeeeee we're back i love it i hate it i miss you how damned lazy is the poet who only ever writes. how wasted is the painter who...

      hiiiiiii everybody guess who drunk for the first time this year ayeeeee

      we're back

      i love it

      i hate it

      i miss you

      how damned lazy

      is the poet

      who only ever writes.

      how wasted

      is the painter

      who drowns out his lines.

      how atrophied

      the pianist

      who cannot bend the light

      if this is art then it isn't mine.

      .

      a screw

      driver is useless

      when nails

      are the nuisance

      an easel

      is pointless

      with verbally

      mindless rhymes.

      .

      to what length in an artist?

      if you cannot wield

      every edge of the

      toolbox right?

      .

      not every thought

      is at best

      through emo

      writings expressed

      kid, sometimes

      you have to

      know your lines.

      .

      to better outline your problems.

      (better outline your problems)

      better sketch out your issues

      (guarantee she don't miss you)

      better sculpt out the tissue

      and try to attend to

      the shit you

      can only rhyme.

      .

      what a waste of an artist.

      .

      what a waste of an artist.

      .

      you call your poems cathartic

      but that's your only

      medium, right?

      .

      you wanna be a God

      you better step up

      better learn to

      do your makeup

      hopefully you learn

      to draw her thighs.

      .

      better off dead otherwise.

      .

      if you're not the greatest it's a guise.

      ich lebe noch von dir

      so if i won't be remembered

      then by your God

      i should prolly' die.

      .

      what the fuck is an artist.

      .

      wjo is reallt an aritst.

      .

      you call your poems cathartic,

      but that's your only

      medium - right?

      13 votes
    21. fuck you.

      God put me at ease deliver me to peace. if you're above deliver me to love. there's not a sign you're months without a call. i begin to think you never cared at all. in winter breezes hang me from...

      God

      put me at ease

      deliver me to peace.

      if you're above

      deliver me to love.

      there's not a sign

      you're months without a call.

      i begin to think

      you never cared at all.

      in winter breezes

      hang me from the trees.

      god i'm sick of

      never feeling enough.

      make me crease and

      break me at my knees.

      tarot prophet guide me

      with your crystal ball.

      .

      read the names i've

      written in my skin.

      banish me to walk

      alone in cold.

      hit my face and tell me

      this is it.

      kill me, say you

      never cared at all

      .

      screaming in your car

      you said you'd call the cops

      if i don't take my seatbelt off

      on our way home and walk.

      .

      screaming in our home

      you'd always slam the doors

      and leave the silence ringing

      in the halls

      .

      alone in dark i wailed

      you didn't care.

      as you sat there on your phone

      and talked and talked.

      .

      always acting like

      i wasn't there.

      even asked me to pretend

      that we were not.

      .

      remember back in college

      when you made some friends

      and tried to make me hide,

      not show me off?

      .

      tried to tell them

      i was just a friend.

      and when i protested

      god you told me off.

      .

      but when i made you mad

      how mad you went.

      and appeared inside my room

      without consent.

      .

      i walked in and found you there

      sat at my desk.

      it should've ended there

      but i regressed.

      .

      i said we would grow past it

      never did.

      always made me second guess

      the life i live.

      .

      it's not my fault

      that you stayed home alone.

      why do i slash and cry and pray

      that you'll pick up the phone.

      .

      tell me why i love you

      when it's wrong.

      .

      .

      .

      tell me why i want you

      when you're gone.

      .

      .

      .

      i want you to ignore me,

      miss my calls.

      .

      .

      .

      if at least you'll speak

      to me at all.

      fuck you.

      i'm sorry.

      i love you.

      fuck you.

      fuck you too.

      12 votes
    22. ganz allein Glühwein.

      I'VE GOT red wine nicotine fresh chocolate chip cookies the plaid heated blanket that keeps me cuddled up in the recliner that doubles as my bed. I'VE GOT red wine daydreams moving to a different...

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      nicotine

      fresh chocolate chip cookies

      the plaid heated blanket that keeps me

      cuddled up in the recliner that doubles

      as my bed.

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      daydreams

      moving to a different city with a different scene

      i wanna meet new friends,

      try codeine

      find love or find drugs to console me

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      thin skin

      pink like your soft cheeks when they're sunkissed.

      haulover beach, you were naked

      on a trip,

      and you screamed, and you screamed, and i hate it.

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      ain't shit

      except seven little boxes full of bullshit

      old love notes kissed with red lips

      seven boxes of evidence you didn't mean shit.

      I'VE GOT

      a lotta bit of lethargy

      all my energy drained.

      i remember the day where you looked at my eyes

      and you said "babe since you met me you don't look the same"

      you looked at the bags,

      (beat.)

      and you said "that was me"

      (beat.)

      and of course i dismissed it

      said babe don't be silly

      i envisioned us happy and said that "you make me complete."

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      white lies.

      red wine.

      red wine.

      GOT.

      red wine

      no time.

      it's time.

      lifeline.

      6 votes
    23. gripthroat grapes.

      we met in a field i plucked a fruit from your veins you encouraged me to eat i exchanged with you a name. . i kept you close inside a jar and with time, you turned sour you encouraged i add water...

      we met in a field

      i plucked a fruit from your veins

      you encouraged me to eat

      i exchanged with you a name.

      .

      i kept you close inside a jar

      and with time, you turned sour

      you encouraged i add water

      lest it be the final hour.

      .

      my glass turned pink

      with the hue of your skin

      you explained - it's drink,

      you encouraged me to sip

      .

      i never knew beauty

      like your taste upon my lips

      you are my favorite poison

      and i have now, not a drip.

      8 votes
    24. A journey through love with Richard Brautigan

      so i've just recently learned about this guy, and his work is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. i'm admittedly crazy poorly-read (is that the antonym to well-read?) when it comes to... well,...

      so i've just recently learned about this guy, and his work is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.

      i'm admittedly crazy poorly-read (is that the antonym to well-read?) when it comes to...

      well, anything besides self-help books released up to "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck" by Mark Manson.

      and his work has been concise and just fucking accurate enough for me to enjoy.

      so i present you all,

      a journey through love, with Richard Brautigan.


      -2

      Everybody wants to go to bed

      with everybody else, they're

      lined up for blocks, so I'll

      go to bed with you. They won't

      miss us.

      in this first stage, we see that little Richie's met himself someone special, and off they go arm in arm to live happily ever after.


      Romeo and Juliet

      If you will die for me,

      I will die for you

      and our graves will be like two lovers washing

      their clothes together

      in a laundromat

      If you will bring the soap

      I will bring the bleach.

      and here we see something that, personally, i found surprising from a poet who got his start in the 50s.

      this piece emulates the incendiary, passionate, limitless love that some of us have been lucky enough to experience in the early years of our lives. the love where it's the both of you against the world. the love where the most mundane tasks seem incredulous solely because they're done together. the love that i have only seemed to find in life, through trauma bonding.

      their love is powerful. their love is radiant.


      I Feel Horrible, She Doesn't

      I feel horrible. She doesn't

      love me and I wander around

      like a sewing machine

      that's just finished sewing

      a turd to a garbage can lid.

      their love is over.

      the crass yet poignant imagery somehow simultaneously flashing feelings of uselessness, self-loathing, and loss.

      you are here.


      Haiku Ambulance

      A piece of green pepper

      fell

      off the wooden salad bowl:

      so what?

      the sheer stoicism here is inspiring to me.

      this is the mindset that i want - and don't have the emotional energy to cultivate.

      were Brautigan still around and kickin' today, i'd buy the man a shot of the best whiskey i could get with $7 and thank him for emulating the exact mindset i want, need, and desire

      in four lines.

      it's simple - the green paper is a fraud, illusory. from afar or even from near with a quick glance - the green paper is another leafy green of the salad. a leaf of lettuce, a bit of cabbage. even if you press your face into the bowl and smell, the paper will smell of salad and nothing but.

      it falls onto the floor, you pick it up to throw it away. you notice the texture inapropos with more roughness, and frailty than a leaf of a vegetable. you test it - you tear it.

      it was paper.

      it was not the spinach you'd desired.

      it was not real.

      it was not what you wanted.

      regardless of the time you've spent preparing the salad, chopping your veg, blending your dressing, tossing it all, and fixing it for presentation,

      if you throw this paper out - it will be no loss, and your salad will only be better for it.

      a green piece of paper fell off the wooden salad bowl.

      so what?


      Love Poem

      the piece that brought Brautigan in to my attention in the first place.

      It's so nice

      to wake up in the morning

      all alone

      and not have to tell somebody

      you love them

      when you don't love them

      any more.

      resolve.

      clarity.

      peace.

      the earlier bleach has gone unsipped. she has come, she has gone. he has suffered, he has grown.

      and now, he is at peace.

      his world back to...

      normal.


      this has been a journey through love with Richard Brautigan.

      4 votes
    25. normal.

      hey this is tildes so i should talk about code. i dont type each > for the markdown individually. got a tiny function i wrote that does it for me: https://repl.it/repls/HonoredRubberyProfessional...

      hey this is tildes so i should talk about code.

      i dont type each > for the markdown individually.

      got a tiny function i wrote that does it for me: https://repl.it/repls/HonoredRubberyProfessional

      so there's that for anyone who wants an easier time formatting their thing.

      stuff at the bottom. not necessarily inspo. just.

      yeah

      i just

      want to go back

      to normal.

      normal like in 2016

      when i had a little cash

      and spent it all

      on books, coffee, clothes, teenage shit

      i was nineteen

      we had yet to meet

      back to normal

      like the centuries

      where i would never be

      from the dawn of the earth

      up to the nineties.

      back to normal

      back to friends

      back to hobbies and dreams

      back to having endless things

      that i found exciting

      back to normal

      when i'd stay up a little late

      and fall asleep, be up at 8

      and make my coffee

      not living in the night,

      sleeping in the morning.

      .

      but the meds are all a hex,

      cyanide with side effects

      take this pill if you're depressed

      now youre a narcoleptic wreck

      and your car's a crumpled mess

      so momma drives you to your check-

      ups full of shit you never said

      like how you wanna quit - dead.

      because you say something she think

      is wrong you end up in the shrink

      with all the people with the bigger problems

      thrashing as they shriek

      and you wake up on a table

      see the warden of the clink

      shoving hands into your mouth

      tryna feed you what they think

      'll fix your fucking problems.

      hooked - benzodiazepines.

      and now you're mellow, now you're numb

      for now your skin'll cease to bleed

      and still you look around in envy

      pretty people - normalcy.

      .

      i gotta get out this house

      get back to normal

      maybe she can't find me there.

      maybe i can get a text

      or get some coffee

      breathe, not even care

      'bout if i'll turn a cursed corner

      see her curly golden hair,

      and have a flashback to the nights

      spend crying lonely in despair

      as she would sit, a room away

      sipping vodka in here chair

      taking snaps and scrolling insta

      for her modelling career

      and i would wail my soul would bleed

      praying that her heart would hear

      and she would get up, come and hold me

      stroke my hair like "mama's here."

      and i could breathe

      our love immortal

      i want nothing but a world

      where i am back in full control

      through death or breath

      just make me normal.


      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NB7RBZ1yGY

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO5JLdsNxSk | Lyrics

      8 votes
    26. reimagining the lyrics of "Andria" by La Dispute

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project. this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014. coincidentally, i'd...

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project.

      this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014.

      coincidentally, i'd just finished one of my few milestones in the project

      i could take a break if i wanted to.

      i could hear the words filling themselves in, treating the song like a template.

      decided i'd take a minute to "remix" or "cover" this song for how things are going this time around.

      here's the original.

      maybe give it a listen, then jump into this piece,

      out of words now.

      bishop


      [Verse 1]
      You still cross my mind from day to day
      And I mostly cry
      Still so set on finding out where we went wrong
      and why
      So I retrace our every step with a bloodwet knife
      Trying to figure out what your head thinks
      And my head just ain't what it used to be
      So I ask,

      ...what's the point anyway?

      [Verse 2]

      I remember bringing boxes up the stairs to your apartment
      Knowing love was slipping
      rapidly away
      I remember the skin of your forehead
      Your nose and your lips I'd always kiss when I was out of things to say
      You held my hand, and you would always promise me
      You'd promise me pretty things but I would never understand
      I remember when you said you didn't love me
      And I swear not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand

      [Verse 3]
      I remember how you smiled through the smoke in a crowded little coffeehouse
      And laughed at all my jokes
      And I remember the way that you dressed
      While we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat
      And I remember when I knew that you'd be leaving
      How I barely kept up breathing and I bet if I could to do it all again
      I'd feel the same pain
      I remember faded driving through the city in tears
      How I wept to god in fits, I've hated Texas ever since

      I've found it's true what people say
      That death and drugs can numb the pain
      And every single day I want to fade away, cus

      [Verse 4]
      I still remember independence tricked us
      And lead us helpless holding cash into a pit to be devoured
      I still remember how we held so strong to this
      Though we had never really settled on a way out
      I still remember your blank face
      And how we'd always find a way recommit the same mistakes
      I still dream that it would all come back together
      Just to fall apart again

      [Bridge]
      My dear
      I hear your voice in mine
      I've been alone here
      I've been alone here
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been at home here
      I've been at home here
      You've been away for years
      You've been away for years
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone

      [Verse 5]
      I breathed your name into the air, I etched your name into me
      I felt my anger swelling, vision black, I can't see
      I held your name inside my heart but it got buried in my fear
      It tore the wiring of my brain, I did my best to keep it clear
      So dear, no matter how we part I hold you sweetly in my head
      And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead
      If I can't love you as a lover, I will love you in my death
      Anything to see you smile, keep you happy in my end.

      3 votes
    27. hello

      hi i'm bishop and i'm the guy you probly see inside your dreams who shows up for half a second then i morph into a sheep no wait im bishop im the guy who's in the back of that one photo that you...

      hi i'm bishop
      and i'm the guy you probly see
      inside your dreams
      who shows up for half a second
      then i morph into a sheep

      no wait im bishop
      im the guy who's in the back
      of that one photo that you
      took out by the beach in
      2018 out in cabo

      hold on, no, it's bishop
      it's the person that you messaged
      when you posted up on tumblr
      needing help with your depression

      i mean

      no

      wait

      i'm bishop!

      i mean

      i'm 1930s jazz superstar Cab Calloway.
      i don't really play many instruments
      but i can sing
      i'm a throat player

      hi my name is bishop
      and i'm actor Matthew Lillard
      hah like zoinks babe, i was shaggy
      let me take you out to dinner

      but then she turned to me
      all worriedly
      i asked her "whats the problem b?"
      she said "i'm not some pretty girl,
      i'm bishop! i'm your coffee!"

      and i looked around like what the hell
      and down onto my bed i fell
      the pillow was my face
      i was the bottles on the shelf

      hi there pal, my name is bishop!
      wait i lied it's Captain Morgan!
      don't you love the way i
      can't walk straight in my own Jordans
      (that were actually pretty expensive shoes, like who pays that much for shoes? i mean i get the aesthetic and all i have some jackets that were kinda expensive but like

      ...dude.)

      (cough)

      hi my name is bishop
      but i'm really Roddy Piper
      and i'm feelin hella Rowdy cus my
      ex she made my life hurt

      i mean wait
      no

      i'm Bert Kreischer!
      i'm im a machine!
      and i'm a funny guy!
      i'm hella rich, i'll slide some money by
      if you can sing me beddie-bye

      no fuck
      i'm Tyler Perry
      i make really funny movies
      and i think you'd probly like me
      if you ever really knew me

      i mean

      im bishop
      and i eat a lot of fruit
      but i still cant seem to get rid
      of my stomach
      i've considered "fasting" before and i used to but i like to cook too much so i end up like not eating for a day and then cooking a lot (like a lot) and really enjoying that meal and the whole process but it kinda nullifies the whole thing.

      i'm gordon ramsay.

      i'm

      im chef Joel Robuchon and i have hella Michelin Stars

      and my heart burns

      i mean fuck i ate too much i'm

      im'm larry the cable guy, do you have heartburn? i could

      *sigh* sell you

      Prilosec

      i'm bishop

      i'm

      ....

      anyone but me.

      cheers

      10 votes
    28. goth sex and human sacrifice. [nsfw]

      y'already know who it is bishop - little punk bitch. 's go. no need to comment or whatever. just yelling at the internet today. Xes On My Eyes For Life. tw: self-harm/suicide/alcohol/drugs startin...

      y'already know who it is
      bishop - little punk bitch.

      's go. no need to comment or whatever. just yelling at the internet today.

      Xes On My Eyes For Life.

      tw: self-harm/suicide/alcohol/drugs


      startin off the year all
      alone inside my bedroom
      lookin back in the past
      what i been through
      how you'd pet my hair,
      cuddle close in my bedroom
      now ain't nothin but depressive
      air in the bedroom
      look what i get up to
      xans and the mushrooms
      body don't have much room
      left for me to love you
      it pushes all the air out
      in case you maybe come thru
      you took all of my breath out
      and i can't even speak you

      name into the air
      with no fingers in my hair
      sippin whiskey in my chair
      i can see your shadows here
      you told me "lay it bare, give
      your heart and boy i swear"
      from now until the day you die
      i promise i'll be there."

      now i'm broken down
      and wearing out
      your voice in my head
      get it out
      i'm gettin up and pullin down
      the liquor off the shelf

      my empty bed is
      screaming out
      i'm praying that you'll
      hear me while
      i'm masturbating moaning out
      "I'm gonna kill myself."

      Прости меня,
      Пожалуйста
      now is my time
      убей меня
      princess - зайчик
      i can't take it
      baphometic
      angel - wrists slit

      cus i'm broken down
      and wearing out
      i know the truth you
      hate me now
      i'm gettin up and pullin down
      the liquor off the shelf

      my empty bed is
      screaming out
      i'm praying that you'll
      hear me while
      i'm masturbating moaning out
      "I'm gonna kill myself."

      7 votes
    29. So Spoke Zarathustra

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER - UNTERGANG 2019 Xes on my eyes for life seems like some people 'roudn here tdont know that bishop an emo rapper on the comeup 👀 so lemme introduce myself bonjour im bishop....

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER - UNTERGANG 2019

      Xes on my eyes for life

      seems like some people 'roudn here tdont know that bishop an emo rapper on the comeup 👀

      so lemme introduce myself

      bonjour

      im bishop.

      i write hella poetry, and i just got a midi board and a expensive-ass course on Logic Pro X so imma learn how to produce as well.

      imma kind, lighthearted fella, but poetry is my muse to get the dark shit off my chest

      and rap is the zeitgeist now so i dont gotta feel ashamed of that anymore lmao

      i sold my soul for love and cash, but that keeps biting back

      we'll see how siht plays out

      .

      i love comments, and always peep my inspo tracks or we cant be friends

      (jk but srsly)

      much love, spread positiv y, all of that shit,

      bishop


      ps i also cook a lot so if u hungry for some plants hmu

      peep tha inspo at the bottom


      a wise man once said
      don't let your dreams be dreams
      so any time i go to sleep
      it's always nightmares indeed
      a lucid hellscape, i cant
      move i cant scream
      as i lay there unawake
      my fists pounding at the sheets
      it steady creeps, in my head
      it lays dormant in the day
      but still it's stench seeps out
      constant suffocates my brain
      as i struggle for a breath
      and my heart starts to race
      i just wanna lay down and
      fantasize a better day

      chasin xanny with the whiskey
      give a fuck about my kidneys
      life feels like a living hell
      if the furnace isn't in me
      so im steady blowin smoke
      out my lungs like a chimney
      my body like the house that
      you used to live in with me
      now it's empty and i'm starving
      feelin ugly, i'm not eating
      but the devil promised riches
      thus, the dark, i will believe in.


      So Spoke Zarathustra
      we're in this shit again
      as i built up another hope
      and then i lost another friend
      now there's demons in my head
      i expose my skeleton
      i thought that i could trust you
      always swore you're genuine

      but now i'm in this swamp again
      and i be wadin' through the water
      my skin begins to bubble up
      my blood is getting hotter
      and i can hear a voice within
      screaming out with an offer
      all the pain will end if i just
      offer up my slaughter
      let the water take me under
      let the Bishop take me under
      i could send my soul away
      and throw my body in gutter
      and i shudder in my slumber
      fingers gripping at the sheets
      and i wake up in a sweat
      this is what she did to me.


      don't let your dreams be dreams
      let them be nightmares
      when your soul's in the dark
      you can trust that the night cares
      upon a hilltop
      there stood a white mare
      who scoffed my direction
      took off and left me there

      taking an L like
      fuck, i'm here again
      Zoroastrian hell
      as my heart starts withering
      cut that bitch out,
      used my last breath
      to bury it
      fell to the ground
      as my life was
      diminishing

      send me to hell
      then at least i'll be free of this


      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxvLc2a6Iao&t=112s

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ff0bq_ydEQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      if anyone would be interested in my top 10 emo rap tracks of 2018 lemme kno because i know what they are i just font have the everny to write a wholeass post on it but if yall want it i will

      bye now

      6 votes
    30. Who Miss a Lil Durnk Bishop

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER we off the drink we off the emo shit esskeetit peep the inspo track sat the bottom or we cant be ffriends sold my soul to the devil so that i could feel valued remember bein...

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER

      we off the drink we off the emo shit

      esskeetit

      peep the inspo track sat the bottom or we cant be ffriends


      sold my soul to the devil

      so that i could feel valued

      remember bein in a empty

      home with a vacuum

      former straight-edge

      off the drink, off the valium

      wanna go back to our

      mornings with the cartoons

      made my heart a whale

      then you hit it with a harpoon

      bleedin on the beach, staring

      up at the full moon

      sometimes life rains

      down in a monsoon

      i'd be glad to drown if

      it means i can love you

      .

      but i cant even hug you

      can't even text you.

      antidepressooos

      bishop 5'6" but he tryna

      be big news.

      .

      tryna get big so you

      cannot forget me

      honey your love is a

      xanny it's deadly

      how'm i supposed to

      forget about kelly

      or bout all of those nights

      that you called me, unsteady

      wish i loved you correctly

      shit got unsteady

      i was just tryna get

      us a few pennies

      put you in a bentley

      put you in the fendi

      wasn't rich enough so

      you got all offended

      on the offensive

      antidepressents

      fuck that bullshit

      it just makes me sedated

      .

      dont wanna feel shit

      if i cant feel you

      prayin that you'll text me

      "let me heal you"

      you got 50 shades of grey

      i can see through

      but somehow still

      made me believe you

      ignroed all the red flags

      so i could keep you

      mistook for an angel

      whenever i'd see you

      but now you a model

      you said "i don need you"

      looking for a camera

      you can show your tits to

      then the devil approached me.

      said "i can guarantee you."

      .

      so i went to the sea

      heard a voice, "take a knee"

      so i nodded, agreed

      and he said "you will serve me -

      Boy listen closely

      each one of your dreams

      surrender control to

      you want the money,

      someone to devote to,

      4-k square foot house

      to go home to.

      this, i can construe

      if you submit to

      living your life, all despite

      where you'll go to.

      i now control you

      your soul - i have claim to

      but think of all the things

      that my hands can bring you.

      so i bowed on my knees -

      now this man, i submit to.

      .

      ave satani

      i give you my body

      my soul, it was drawn, he

      took it, made a copy

      forgot about mommy

      woke up smelling coffee

      looked in the mirror

      did not hate my body

      the sky was all foggy

      and greyed-out, but oddly

      i liked it enough to

      not waste the day nodding

      or off of the molly

      or in my room rocking

      with her voice talking

      .

      ave satani

      the blood and the body

      the dark it is calling

      and i find it calming

      it's sated the longing

      lil bishop's evolving

      let's go to the graveyard

      i feel like walking

      and talking

      and nodding


      inspo tracks: peep this shit

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ff0bq_ydEQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y17IQ96Zzjk

      8 votes
    31. la dernière fois qu'elle m'a chanté

      i headed home from the store last night hair kinda fucked up red in my eyes stared at the road not a car in sight looked up at the sky sunset looked nice drinks in the seat drugs on the mind...

      i headed home from
      the store last night
      hair kinda fucked up
      red in my eyes
      stared at the road
      not a car in sight
      looked up at the sky
      sunset looked nice

      drinks in the seat
      drugs on the mind
      looking for a way to
      go numb for the night
      then the clouds came down
      sent a fog up high
      couldn't see ahead
      something didn't feel right

      i was five minutes out
      so i pressed on home
      accompanied by another
      feeling of alone
      turned on the radio
      put down my phone
      tried to shake the nerves
      with a half-good song

      pressed on the gas
      and the fog pressed low
      saw something flickering
      with shape unknown
      it was just dead ahead
      then a mile up the road
      then i came to a halt
      from my seat i was thrown.

      --

      front-end smashed,
      not a soul was around
      i called out for help
      but nobody heard a sound
      i crawled to my car
      and i looked all around
      then i looked up to god
      and the rain came down

      then my radio sang,
      and i turned my head 'round
      reached for the volume
      my hand knocked out
      heard a voice, "listen close"
      as my back hit the ground
      then the radio spoke,
      in my head, heard it shout


      i awoke in my bed
      with no pain in my neck
      rushed out to my car
      no sign of a wreck
      didn't know the day or
      the time, had to check
      8am again, the crash
      didn't happen yet.

      i tried to think back
      memories on a thread
      but something stood out
      ever clear in my head,
      the song that i heard
      with the words i can't forget
      had to write em all down
      i ran back to my desk


      i rushed the words down,
      i almost felt myself mad.
      the song made me miss
      a love i never even had
      that's when it clicked,
      i finally understand
      finally took a look
      at the world in my hands

      she was never perfect,
      negatively drove you mad
      all the pain, the hurt,
      anxiety, you felt at her hands
      you remembered all the exits,
      and escapes that you planned
      but you persevered through,
      now she loves another man


      but fuck it, that's good
      she only ever made you hurt
      all the times you felt alone,
      and mistreated by her words
      all the foolish fights she started,
      all the stupid shit she stirred
      look past all the beauty, boy
      abuse, you don't deserve

      it's a big-ass world, boy
      you'll find a better girl
      take a look back for yourself
      and see how things really were
      go on, my son,
      you'll inherit the world
      because the love that you miss,
      you never had back with her.

      9 votes
    32. nil

      I'm rather sleepy, generally very reserved when it comes to sharing my work, and not a native user of English, but I have a couple poems in English, and I though I'd share one here and see what...

      I'm rather sleepy, generally very reserved when it comes to sharing my work, and not a native user of English, but I have a couple poems in English, and I though I'd share one here and see what the folks think of it. I love the challenge of writing stuff in languages other than my native tongue.

      a bird with no wings
      a song no one sings
      a sorrow when time brings
               nil.
      ex nihilo nihil fit
      et words have no wit
      mouth knows only to spit
               nil.
      time is scarse and gods wobble
      in vain hurry naive men hobble
      ignoring they will only nobble
               nil.
      
      12 votes
    33. missouri blues

      peep the inspo at the bottom i finnally found some shit i lvoe fuggg i hate to post this much because i'm certain my shit gets annoying. i bet there's hella people on here who view my posts as...

      peep the inspo at the bottom

      i finnally found some shit i lvoe


      fuggg i hate to post this much because i'm certain my shit gets annoying. i bet there's hella people on here who view my posts as "fluff" and want it gone but highkey idgaf.

      i know tildes likes to be open to discussion and likes to look deeper into things - ain't my fault i don't get that many comments ¯\(ツ)/¯. i tried writing more secretive and intricate shit people could pick apart if they want, but those weren't received as well as some of my more blunt posts.

      though that one poem i did where i referenced rocky horror did really well.

      i dunno.

      i just hope my shit belongs here 😂 but i guess if i've been allowed to make over thirty posts in the past three months that means i'm in the clear.

      dont be afraid to keep me in check, and dont be afraid to comment on my stuff.

      i invite your questions, your critique, your thoughts in general. i may be fucxed in the head, but i'm an artist above all else (is that true?). if you want to dig into my shit or have any ways i can improve on my work, i'd be so glad to know you have no idea

      i write my stuff to express myself but that does no good if no one's listening lmao so i want to write shit people like. i welcome all feedback.


      anyway i'm ranting again and i'm only tipsy. imma finnish this drink (kuinka voit?), then imma find a beat and ride on some shit.

      y'all know the drill.

      say it with me.

      esskeeetiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,


      i'm actually crying right now. i found a beat that sounds just like the kind of shit i want to make and everything is just rushing to me. this is insane.

      this is the blues moderna i want to make. i feel like Taj Mahal


      ain't nothing truer in my heart
      than missouri blues
      remember driving through St. Louis
      sitting next to you
      remembering the times you said you loved me
      guess it wasn't true
      told me you'd love me forever
      now i'm feeling all confused.

      baby where'd you go and why'd
      you take my heart away from me
      now i write pathetic songs and
      can't stop thinking pitifully
      wonder if you talk me good
      or speak on me in mimicry
      i can't stop hating myself
      and looking at me critically

      mirrors are the worst friend
      a man could ever have
      when a pretty blonde girl went
      and tore his heart in half
      when he's sure he's lived the best
      years he'd ever have
      what good is any man, girl,
      without his better half?

      take me to the delta where
      a man can sing in peace
      laughing at me, drunk
      when i'm just tryna find relief
      can't afford the therapy,
      for shit you did to me
      i'd let you take my life if
      you just killed me in your sheets

      (chorus)

      baby please
      tell me that you care a-bout me
      promise you don't laugh at me
      tell me that you'll come on close and hold me

      -.

      baby hear me howlin' at your back door
      wonder what you're not talkin to me for
      hoping that you answer and take me home
      take me back before everything went wrong

      take me back to days when i still loved good
      it was us against the world but girl we endured
      our thoughts were caked in sin although our hearts pure
      we got all cuddled close and smoked a backwood

      take me back to days when you still liked me
      and my body wasn't cause for anxiety
      wanna go back to twenty sixteen
      eyes blue, hearts black, minds pristine

      baby hear me howlin' at your back door
      wonder what you're not talkin to me for
      hoping that you answer and take me home
      take me back before everything went wrong

      (chorus)

      baby please
      tell me that you care a-bout me
      promise you don't laugh at me
      tell me that you'll come on close and hold me


      i feel like if i write any more on this one imma ruin it. i don't like that.

      peep the inspo

      (iit's not rap. it's blues. actually peep the inspo)

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4YPMiFaPWo (oooooof jesus christ, 1:13!!!!!!)

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iqTRNUOsFI

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0_eRVroLqs


      i fucxing hate dallas, i fucxing hate texas.

      8 votes
    34. twenty one grams.

      today's different - or at least, this part of it. a lot of the posts i been making the past couple months have been out of this empty kinda want to write something. as per the usual, i came to...

      today's different -

      or at least, this part of it.

      a lot of the posts i been making the past couple months have been out of this empty kinda want to write something.

      as per the usual, i came to starbucks to work on some shit, but i felt something in my chest, got some inspo, and here we are again lmao.

      fair warning ahead, this is one of my more...idk, "brazen" posts. i dunno, superficial as hell save for one or two bars. enjoy it or not - love you anyways.

      peep the inspo at the bottom

      esskeetit.


      seeing all these people walking
      round arm in arm
      while im sitting in my house in
      the dark - pop bars
      crash cars - cop cars
      hella sirens in the distance
      blood in the moonlight glistens
      bishy getting distant
      what's going on in your
      head causing dissonance?
      what's weighing up with suicide
      in equivalence?
      still hooked on to
      the past in imprisonment?
      keep looking back at
      what you had and you're missing it?

      -.

      fuck that - cut that
      sideswipe - bone crack
      i wouldn't go back
      despite all the flashbacks
      i still got hopes
      want my life back
      i do this shit 'cus
      my soul went bad
      layin in a bed full of
      pressed pills and porn mags
      filling up a pool with
      self-hatred and cognac
      pistol labeled "lovers"
      and the bullet "no contact"
      wanna ski slopes 'til
      my eyes go all black

      -.

      i don't hate that girl
      i hate my self
      don't hate this world
      i hate my self
      spent red candles
      on my shelf
      lost 21 grams when
      i weighed myself

      ave satani
      my fear and my secrets
      my tears and my blood
      my devotion and regrets
      my love and disdain and
      my pain and forgiveness
      these things are my own
      and my self is my weakness
      so bring my destruction
      and make me a demon

      bishop.


      inspo:

      https://youtu.be/ShI6axFfqj4

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2p09lM19FpU

      https://youtu.be/9M1PY4lTY3g

      bonus: https://youtu.be/DxvLc2a6Iao

      9 votes
    35. i like it when friends come over to visit.

      sup everyone! catchin a vibe today, had a few joji tracks on repeat so i thought i'd build something out of his style/flow. voici. inspo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulMHhPHYCi0...

      sup everyone! catchin a vibe today, had a few joji tracks on repeat so i thought i'd build something out of his style/flow.

      voici.

      inspo:

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulMHhPHYCi0
      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFkCNvfojg
      https://tashacho.artstation.com/projects/EQ4on

      doors creaking at the riverside
      subtle fog besets an autumn night
      white dresses in the lower tide
      northern star hangs high

      catches my eye
      closing in on all sides
      belt of Orion,
      branch unified
      eighth night, knocking coincides
      groaning on the other side
      doors among the trees
      shaking hands you start to climb

      -.

      you've see the stars before
      and they always keep their shape
      one shoots down,
      angel fell from grace
      all of their alignments,
      a familiar face
      didn't want to come back to this place.

      you liked things as they were
      and you prefer a cityscape
      slugging through your life
      with your eyes ever agape
      toeing through the words
      and your hands began to shake
      she said "you look like i abused you heaven's sake"

      looked to the sky so many times
      that i've mapped the stars out
      screamed so many times now
      only whispers come out
      water from the river Styx
      a seed began to sprout
      it's the tree atop from which i'm looking out.

      -.

      doors creaking at the riverside
      subtle fog besets an autumn night
      white dresses in the lower tide
      northern star hangs high

      catches my eye
      closing in on all sides
      belt of Orion,
      branch unified
      eighth night, knocking coincides
      groaning on the other side
      doors among the trees
      shaking hands you start to climb

      bishop.

      4 votes
    36. a few poems

      i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off...

      i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off time. i have plenty more of these, but most of them require so much context that it'd be a pain in the dick to post them, so they're not likely to see daylight here any time soon. anyways

      (note: now hopefully with less formatting fuck ups, lol.)


      quick, general scribbles

      scribble, scribble [unfinished]

      No, you don’t matter—
      you don’t matter, matter, matter…
      like a symphony of voices in
      the night, their uproarious cacophony
      of noise inescapable,
      rumbles—shaking. No sleep
      to be found, no—you don’t matter…
      Sleep is impossible, escape is…
      impossible. Draw your mental curtains
      in every window and bolt every lock shut—
      shut in… shut in with the noise, no you
      don’t matter, matter, matter—
      Why do you shut yourself in? Why
      do you shut yourself inside if you matter?
      The voices tremble with fury—but peaceful
      they are compared to the noise, echoing, booming—
      If you did matter you wouldn’t hide!
      You wouldn’t refuse to face the music, oh
      if you mattered you’d admit that you’re crazy.
      If you mattered the voices wouldn’t be. The
      thoughts wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t be, no—
      you don’t matter, matter, matter…
      some symphony of voices the voices can be—
      rattle like a rattle, regurgitating the same sound—
      endlessly, on loop. Never enough to deafen the
      thoughts, the thoughts never enough to silence
      the voices. If you mattered you’d be free
      of the voices, you see. Just another crazy
      person you are. All alone, you and me...

      Bor · der · line

      Always, when meeting, be skeptical.
      Be cynical, so when the deal falls through
      you can pretend you never wanted
      what was offered to you in the first place.
      Pretend it doesn’t hurt every time
      to tear everything down from day one when
      you know it’s irrational action—
      when you know if you could just be “normal”…
      Go through the process a hundred times
      over, stay up every night thinking
      why it has to always be this way
      and why you’re like this, why you’re so crazy—
      never change, always an amorphous
      blob of a person, never able to
      fit into anything, to be what
      you truly want to be, deep down. Normal.
      Such is the life of an internet
      vagabond—a sacrifice to the great
      altar of the untreated mental
      illness—crucified by their loneliness.


      some stuff for my grand worldbuilding

      Time (1921) // by Donas Beyten-Aytek

      A dragon always cares for time,
      for often he knows that it does rhyme.
      And always grows up with the fable,
      of the dragon that was able.
      For ‘once in time’ a dragon ruled,
      and ‘once in time’ that dragon fooled.
      So ‘once in time’ that dragon lied,
      and ‘once in time’ that dragon died.
      And now a dragon lives with fears
      of the changes time endears,
      and hopes that time will one day cease
      and leave his life alone in peace.
      But no more is it ‘a’ dragon alone,
      instead it is all which to fear is prone.
      In face of time, no dragon is steady.
      In face of eternity, no dragon is ready.

      Dragons will not hail to a tyrant (1981) // by Tadin Aledi Geren

      Dragons will not hail to a tyrant—
      that much must be made clear
      and shouted for the world to hear.
      For a dragon enslaved and martyred—
      on the altar of Bira, their blood spilled—
      can never by any man be killed.
      Yet dragons long have been enslaved—
      by despot, by tyrant, by foreign power—
      and it seems always the dragon should cower.
      But soon, one day soon, the dragon
      will rise from their ashes, from their grave
      and find a dragon world to save.

      Revolution (2009) // by Nesye Kalane-Aiselain

      Revolution means nothing
      if you don’t act.
      If you don’t let the hillsides ring
      with upstart revolutionary zeal
      you are no true revolutionary—
      you are no better than a tyrant king!
      You can’t be a revolutionary
      if you never let the proletarians sing.

      6 votes
    37. indie rock musician james bay taught me a lot about deception.

      ESKEETIT ESKEETIT ESKEETIT ESKEEEETIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT i like to save this wiine for special occasions because shit's a german specialty that i like to share with people but i only really talk to...

      ESKEETIT

      ESKEETIT

      ESKEETIT

      ESKEEEETIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

      i like to save this wiine for special occasions because shit's a german specialty that i like to share with people but i only really talk to one other person in this whole fuuuuucking state so i spent it all on me.

      out here wildin rn

      i aint posted a new piece in a week(ish) so im doing two

      but i post "qulaity" so im okay riiiiiight?

      dont @ me if u aint catch tha links

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytVww5r4Nk0

      https://i.imgur.com/LKIwWHa.png

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2p09lM19FpU this here song issssss

      BIG MOOD

      IMMA PLAY DEPRESSING
      MUSIC TIL YOU
      COME AND
      HOLD ME

      WENT AND BUILT A COFFIN
      BUT I KEEP ON DRILL-
      ING HOLES TO
      BREATHE

      IN HOPES I'LL SEE A PIGEON
      WITH A NOTE THAT YOU
      WROTE ON IT'S
      FEET

      SAYING THAT YOU'RE SORRY
      WE FUCKED UP AND
      YOU'LL COME HOME
      TO ME

      -.

      DOPAMINE
      UNKNOWN TO ME
      BLACK AND WHITE
      A KEATON SCENE

      THERMOS FULL
      OF KEROSENE
      XANNY ON
      DELIVERY

      "DADDY WILL YOU
      CARE FOR ME?"
      I TRIED YOU WERE
      NOT THERE FOR ME

      SAW MY GRANDAD
      BARELY BREATHE AND
      THEN YOU TURNED
      ABANDONED ME

      -.

      SORDID SCENES IN
      SPOILED DREAMS WHEN
      I THINK THAT YOU'VE
      COME ON BACK

      BRAIN AT REST I
      FEEL MY FISTS
      AS THEY POUND HARD
      AGAINST THE BED

      FUCK A LABEL
      DON'T CARE IF
      IT'S ABUSE, I
      WANT IT BACK

      ASKED ME IF
      I'LL MISS YOU
      HOLY FUCK I GUESS
      I GOT IT BAD.

      -.-.-.-.-.-.-.

      FROM WALKIN' HOME
      AND TALKIN' LOADS
      TO NO MORE CALLS
      LIVING ALONE

      TO TEETH AND CLAWS
      AND FRACTURED BONES
      TO TOTALED CARS
      AND BROKEN HOMES

      LET IT GO
      LET IT GO
      DON'T HOLD BACK THE RIVER
      LET IT FLOW

      #DRAINGANG

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CgvdbbuMQ_k

      haha i'm really okay

      3 votes
    38. unawake no escape . i whisper secrets to sedate .

      FUCCCCCCCCCCCC IT WE DRUNK AGAIN WE OUT HERE GEN Z PAINN VIBIN *#BIGMOOD* dont @ me if u aint catch tha links https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShI6axFfqj4 https://i.imgur.com/LKIwWHa.png...

      FUCCCCCCCCCCCC IT WE DRUNK AGAIN

      WE OUT HERE GEN Z PAINN VIBIN

      *#BIGMOOD*

      dont @ me if u aint catch tha links

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShI6axFfqj4

      https://i.imgur.com/LKIwWHa.png

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjhJ_Sv0MlI

      ich schlaf'
      auf einem Bett
      das ich aus Stein
      gemacht hab'

      ich schließe
      fest die augen
      aber finde keine
      Schaffe

      einfach nur
      das Mädel das
      hat mich früher
      verlassen

      dann klebt mein arm
      in der erde ein
      um mich zu
      begraben

      -.

      ich hab an
      sie gelacht und
      sie sieht mich
      an mit Hass

      ich hämmert auf'm
      Nachttisch
      bis ich wurde
      aufgewacht

      dann fragte ich
      an Gott warum
      ich denke immer
      krass

      Hände in die
      Taschen, lauf'
      alleine auf'm
      Strass

      ich möchte kein mehr
      Weihnachten,
      ob sie nicht an
      mir sagt:

      -.

      Schätzi, guten
      Morgen und
      mich küsste auf'm
      Hals

      Ja ich
      möchte Kaffee
      ja ich lieb' dich
      ebenfalls

      "Liebe macht das
      Heim" hat sie auf
      unserem Wand
      gemalt

      lustig, dass sie
      nicht mehr ruft
      mich an oder
      mich halt

      -.
      ?
      i dreamed
      of you
      with angered eyes,
      a gaze that
      filled with hate

      i felt my arm
      beat on my dresser
      'til i did awake

      a soft and shaky
      soul succumbed to rub
      against the grate

      life has been for nothing since february eighth.\

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvlGMCVGkQA

      6 votes
    39. Haiku is not Senryu!

      Today I had to leave a social site group dedicated to original Haiku poetry from its members. I enjoy the format and structure, and find hard not to get whiskers flying when people violate either...

      Today I had to leave a social site group dedicated to original Haiku poetry from its members. I enjoy the format and structure, and find hard not to get whiskers flying when people violate either or both. Everyone in the group was posting maligned content. Haiku is strictly about nature. Insult to injury was their improper use of structure. The first two lines are a fluid combination of thought. The third is a separate observation tied to the first two. Everyone was making all three lines what would be a single sentence if punctuation was included, like this:

      land gives way to sea’s
      constant struggle where they clash
      yet life strives to be

      This is a Hailku, as I have come to understand based on teachings and learned poets:

      milky morning fog
      smothers inner forest realm
      doe rests peacefully

      Many were posting what they must have thought was Haiku, but was in fact Senryu (theme based on human feelings and condition) :

      moonlight shimmers bright
      across the pond’s smooth stillness
      a peace flows through me

      Granted, there is still international debate over the rules and intent of the Japanese art of Haiku. Most American poets agree with the 5-7-5 English language syllable count, the last line distant but related by theme to the first two lines, and that they be strictly about nature.

      So look, we've all heard of Grammar Nazis, relating to nitpicking and over-zealous protection of grammatical structure in written content. In this case, I'm addressing the simplest structured form of modern poetry in use. Three freakin' lines. Seriously, shouldn't Haiku be composed correctly, like any other form of structured poetry?

      10 votes
    40. dripdripdrip

      tu sais qui c'est alright so the fuck is up with you people!? did y'all see my last post up here got like eighteen votes? that's crazy! that's one of the best-received things i've posted on...

      tu sais qui c'est

      alright so the fuck is up with you people!? did y'all see my last post up here got like eighteen votes?

      that's crazy! that's one of the best-received things i've posted on tildes, just, overall lmao.

      glad to see my sober stuff can be decent competition to my drunk stuff.

      on that, i pretty much don't drink on my own anymore (i mean some wine with dinner blah blah) but like drink ya feel?

      if i'm at a kickback i'm always down to get fucked up, but coming out of this sober week i kinda restructured how i'm using stuff now.

      like i used to try using kratom to get high p often and discovered that that's a shite idea. i just got all wirey and had stomach aches lol.

      however just a little bit (~0.75g) in some tea is small enough to avoid any side effects and big enough to work as a solid mood regulator.

      much to my discontent this just isn't the kinda thing you take recreationally (the whole reason i picked it up to begin with), but it does definitely boost your mood up like 30x, boost your self confidence, and even help you get some good sleep (if you're sipping red vein varieties.)

      i was feeling like a lazy piece of shit (y'know as usual), sipped my tea, and ended up knee-deep in this udemy course for electron apps (building desktop apps like skype or something), made a solid breakfast, wrote this here ditty, and played like 3 hours of risk of rain. (gotta be lazy somewhere i guess.)

      anyway this isn't a blog.

      i had a weird concept for this piece and i'm not sure if it came through at all lmao. this was done in maybe 30 minutes.

      let me know if you can guess what the piece is describing.

      cheers,

      bishop.


      <poem>

      drip
      drip

      there's water on the
      floor, so don't

      slip
      slip

      shake your head,
      try to catch a

      grip
      grip

      drowning in your
      dreams, your legs

      kick
      kick

      bags under your
      eyes, you're looking

      sick
      sick

      .

      try to move your
      hand but you cant

      feel
      it

      she wants to cuddle
      up in your bed

      but
      it's

      made of steel and
      you can't seem to

      budge
      it

      staring up in-
      to a funnel

      what's
      this?


      oh the autumn sounds
      raining patters on the ground
      i wake up with a jolt
      on every time you come around

      and you never text to
      let me know before the fact
      i'm second guessing every minute
      tryna find out when you're at

      now we're laying back,
      looking straight into your eyes
      wonder if the next thing you say
      will be a goodbye

      your silence is a lie
      your crying leaves me mortified
      let me go, let me go,
      fuck, got water in my eyes.


      drip
      drip

      drip drip

      drip

      drip

      d..
      .

      .

      drip
      drip

      drip
      drip

      there's water on the
      floor, so don't

      slip
      slip

      shake your head,
      try to catch a

      grip
      grip

      drowning in your
      dreams, your legs

      kick
      kick

      bags under your
      eyes, you're looking

      sick
      sick

      .

      try to move your
      hand but you cant

      feel
      it

      she wants to cuddle
      up in your bed

      but
      it's

      made of steel and
      you can't seem to

      budge
      it

      staring up in-
      to a funnel

      what's
      this?


      </poem>

      (p.s. fuck yeah canada.)

      5 votes
    41. seriously tho stop touching venus fly traps it hurts them.

      post-mortem: holy actual beans dudes this is my most popular post by far! what'd you cats like about it so much? i swear to god my brain and body work in tandom to make sure i never actually do...

      post-mortem: holy actual beans dudes this is my most popular post by far! what'd you cats like about it so much?

      i swear to god my brain and body work in tandom to make sure i never actually do anything productive.

      i came to starbucks exclusively to work on some backend stuff for a project i've got, and i've spent the last hour sipping coffee, watching Joji music videos, and writing this lmao.

      i wish there was something like cocaine that wasn't, well, cocaine, that you could take and then you'd be like "hey maybe i should clean my room. hey it's a nice day out i should take a walk. ya know if i get work done now, i can actually take a break without feeling like lazy trash later on!"

      actually

      that sounds like weed.

      i need to move to a legal state lmao.

      but in order to do that i gotta get better at programming so i can actually get a car (ya fucked up, bishop) and get a new place.

      catch-22's are like so literally my favorite thing (:

      anyway this isn't even the poem lmao i'm just sober ranting at the internet.

      esskeetiiiiiit

      <poem>

      there's this
      black hole lingers
      'round every corner.

      obscure sounds
      dark haze,
      and no borders

      it looms near,
      strikes fear
      when it's closer

      heart runs,
      hands shake,
      i get colder.

      /

      sometimes
      i get close
      take a peek in

      low growl
      sounds loud
      gotta feed it

      audrey
      she's hungry
      when you're bleeding

      jumped in-
      to my blood
      i'm her beacon

      /

      now i can't shake
      this damned desire, god
      i think i gotta call her

      am i safer when she's
      gone? she's in my dreams
      do i still love her?

      my best friend is
      mad, the shit i do
      only appalls her.

      the pit, it's in my
      stomach, god i
      feel it getting stronger.

      /

      audrey

      audrey

      keep the peace, please.

      audrey

      audrey

      play my heart strings.

      you told me to

      obey you baby,

      you control me.

      audrey

      lay me

      to rest in peace

      </poem>

      bishop

      (p.s. i noticed that there always seems to be a vote on my post like the second after i post my poetry shit. whoever you are you're cute af and i love you ok)

      19 votes
    42. jetpack like spy kids

      my head is aching, day four in sobriety. is it the drugs or every- thing that runs about my dreams all the people in my night- mares never let me sleep. my angry father, my old lover, or my...

      my head is aching,
      day four in sobriety.
      is it the drugs or every-
      thing that runs about my dreams
      all the people in my night-
      mares never let me sleep.
      my angry father, my old
      lover, or my mother's screams.

      i go to bed at noon
      and i wake up at three.
      no power left, make some coffee
      just whatever's cheap.
      folgers tastes like cigarettes,
      a cup of apathy.
      wanna sleep inside a noose
      on a dramatic tree.*

      eyes on gucci cus
      they're catching bags
      they're getting dark, like the
      stones came, painted them black
      i wanna move to where the dems are at.
      to the palm trees and the medicine.

      i fantasize about a booked flight,
      goodbyes, and a packed bag.
      fresh check, laptop,
      in my backpack
      new friends, new home,
      and a black lab.
      but that's all in the clouds
      and my drugs are a jetpack.

      but now i'm sober
      and i'm jetlagged.
      and now she's back
      turning my dreams bad
      woke up, aching head,
      and a hurting back.
      dig in my closet
      for a white bag.

      if i'm lucky it's a heart attack.


      • this line isn't mine, wish it was though, i love how self-aware it is when it comes to the hyperdramatic bullshit i always write. would love to write some more stuff in this style.

      oddly enough, it's from a game grumps episode of super mario galaxy lmao

      maybe adding that and fixing the meter in these. i feel like the meter in my sober stuff is really jumpy - i can hear the different parts in my head but i don't think im piecing them together well.

      4 votes
    43. Analyzing a drunken mind.

      have i ever done post-drunken poetry before? i've got to be breaking some sort of rule with the amount i've been spamming this site over the last four hours. I'm gonna go make breakfast and take a...

      have i ever done post-drunken poetry before?

      i've got to be breaking some sort of rule with the amount i've been spamming this site over the last four hours.

      I'm gonna go make breakfast and take a few days away to compensate.

      sorry. thanks for listening.

      much love


      i woke up after
      three hours of sleep
      took a look around my room
      and everything was tinted green
      had a sobering reminder about
      why i shouldn't drink
      i get caught up in the moment
      and try too hard not to think.

      i'd do anything to go numb,
      i'm afraid of that side of me.
      it's hard, i hate myself
      when in the middle of sobriety.
      the room is tinted yellow as
      the sunlight slips in quietly
      i'm at a fork in the road,
      man, i gotta choose carefully.

      to the left a road of headaches,
      heartache, a masochistic fantasy
      take everything the hard way.
      drunken, spinning memories
      thinking of the good days,
      accepting they're behind you
      and your options won't change.
      you're numb but somehow bitter
      life is shorter, and it starts to fade.

      off right a path of effort and torment,
      pushing through the years of shit
      that you drink just to forget.
      the subtle kisses on your forehead
      are bullets of a war chest
      you're naked and afraid and
      your perspective's all distorted
      tryna shake your obsession with the morbid
      it's been about a year since you last felt worth it.

      and say you choose the better
      of the two, here's the evil thing.
      the second road is always there,
      quiet, calm, and glistening.
      internal scars and all the
      hurt will start to dissipate
      just share another secret,
      close your eyes, and disintegrate

      you're still quite young,
      there's time to do the right thing.
      maybe depression in aesthetic
      isn't really worth you dying
      and you won't find steady love
      by telling everyone you're crying
      that just attracts the broken, you
      need something solid and inspiring
      to all of you who noticed,
      heard my wishes and my wailing

      i'll switch to water, hope
      that better starts prevailing

      3 votes
    44. solitude

      idgaf we going two in one day. ban me if my shit's annoying, just give me my posts first. 's all i ask. i know a lot of the shit i write is blunt. i know a lot of it is too straight-forward for...

      idgaf we going two in one day. ban me if my shit's annoying, just give me my posts first. 's all i ask.

      i know a lot of the shit i write is blunt.

      i know a lot of it is too straight-forward for people to be comfortable with.

      i honestly don't care.

      i don't write for them.

      i write for my sanity.

      i want my words to be your drug.

      more drunken poetry.

      god bless those who support. you keep me here. i'm glad you enjoy my works and i hope, at the very least, i help you find catharsis or explore a morbid curiosity into the lives of the damned.

      i am here for you. i am an example.


      from dust we're built,
      and to ash we fall
      wanna get so high, that
      i can't move at all.
      turns out her secret
      was xan all along
      i need some harder shit
      just to push me along

      never thought that love
      was really a drug
      that was just some dumb
      shit they'd say in the songs
      but now it's done, you're
      gone, and i'm having withdrawals
      i'm getting into drugs and
      i'm carving my arms

      and you couldn't give a fuck,
      you never call
      guess all of those years
      didn't matter at all
      all the shit we went through
      can suffer the fall
      so why am i even here,
      or breathing at all.

      had me in a trance, girl
      i was under your spell
      every command, on
      my knees i knelt
      really suicidal, that's the
      hand i was dealt.
      kiss me on my scars, i
      think it's sexy as hell

      the only thing that turns
      me on - facades of real love
      so if you're tryna lure me
      in, give me a real hug.
      pull me close, give a kiss,
      that's the best drugs
      need you to take the
      breath out of my lungs

      fuck. i want to die.

      "i'd still blow my brains out just for you"

      9 votes
    45. High Flight

      Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth, And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things...

      Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
      And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
      Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
      Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
      You have not dreamed of — Wheeled and soared and swung
      High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
      I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
      My eager craft through footless halls of air...
      Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
      I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
      Where never lark or ever eagle flew —
      And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
      The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
      Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
      ---By John Gillespie Magee Jr

      6 votes