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Literature Text
Tired, I know when the word "earphones" turns to "elephants"
That the elements of emotional imperialism
Are fading with the embers.
Tired, the image of audio-sensory pachyderms
Twists and squirms in the regent-governed chaos of my 3 AM
Mind. A divided house on sand.
Or something like that.
Understand?
Where's the order in this free-verse? It's a cursed lost mansion
Disorder being the cost of one unskilled in scansion
And the more I think about how this art is supposed to be
The more I notice that the world is a piece of dropped circuitry.
Hardwired, I look at the world as folders and right-clicks
With each of us ending up a processor of pessimism
And fading with the black-outs
Hardwired, every poem is a frayed USB cable
Between me and you- played and portrayed as an unstable download
Buffering with indemnity
From your demands
Understand?
Where's the love in this electronic wasteland? I refuse
Every piece of rubber-insulation blowing the fuse
And the more I think about how this world is supposed to be
The more I notice that my art is a piece of dropped circuitry.
Inspired, I melt the coiled wire with fire from love
With redemption from data; emotional Confucianism
Is wading in Decembers.
Inspired, the svelte feeling of blood in my veins again
Briskly burns any memory of a memory card holdout
Blistering with tenacity
From your soft hands
Understand?
There is peace in this resistance strike against apathy
Though this circuit board world that you like makes me lonely
And the more I think about how this life is supposed to be
The more I notice that my heart is a piece of dropped circuitry.
That the elements of emotional imperialism
Are fading with the embers.
Tired, the image of audio-sensory pachyderms
Twists and squirms in the regent-governed chaos of my 3 AM
Mind. A divided house on sand.
Or something like that.
Understand?
Where's the order in this free-verse? It's a cursed lost mansion
Disorder being the cost of one unskilled in scansion
And the more I think about how this art is supposed to be
The more I notice that the world is a piece of dropped circuitry.
Hardwired, I look at the world as folders and right-clicks
With each of us ending up a processor of pessimism
And fading with the black-outs
Hardwired, every poem is a frayed USB cable
Between me and you- played and portrayed as an unstable download
Buffering with indemnity
From your demands
Understand?
Where's the love in this electronic wasteland? I refuse
Every piece of rubber-insulation blowing the fuse
And the more I think about how this world is supposed to be
The more I notice that my art is a piece of dropped circuitry.
Inspired, I melt the coiled wire with fire from love
With redemption from data; emotional Confucianism
Is wading in Decembers.
Inspired, the svelte feeling of blood in my veins again
Briskly burns any memory of a memory card holdout
Blistering with tenacity
From your soft hands
Understand?
There is peace in this resistance strike against apathy
Though this circuit board world that you like makes me lonely
And the more I think about how this life is supposed to be
The more I notice that my heart is a piece of dropped circuitry.
Literature
Something Behind Every Thing Pt. 2
I have a thought that leads to a feeling,
an emotion locked inside an empty soul.
I lie when I answer with I don't care,
and hold back a wall of tears
beneath my blank stare.
My torn heart has shattered
because of the silence that consumes me,
leaving me to feel lonely.
Behind closed eyes,
I am unreadable,
with no way of letting others know,
the reason why I say I'm fine,
The reason why I put up a wall of happiness,
when I feel so much pain.
Literature
...
fine then, just leave me alone
let me rot in this "shithole" existence
you don't like it?
well it's none of your business
try to turn me around
put me on "the right path"?
it won't work
you haven't experienced such wrath
and then experienced the everlasting calm
but you'll never understand
all you know is the bad
all you remember is sad
i'm sorry you felt the need to cut me off
it's a real shame
and you weren't even involved
as if our friendship was a game
well i miss your friendship
you hurt me just as badly
as the one you criticize
still, i would renew our bond, gladly
if you weren't this way or that
stubborn, hard headed
just open you
Literature
welp.
"That's wrong." She points to something I had written earlier on era piece of paper, the cigarette left eternally lit between her index and middle finger. I ignore her hand and continue writing. "I'll fix it later," I mutter under my breath, my words a whisper.
She shakes her head slightly and sits up on the desk, her cocktail dress showing off too much thigh than I would prefer. She takes a drag of her cigarette and blows it in my direction, just to spite me I know. I pause to wave it away and return to writing. When I fail to say anything else, she leans towards me.
"You know, I don't see why you keep this game up. I mean, you don't reall
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Comments6
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Don't know why, but those first few lines have been running through my head recently. Especially the first.