Sep 24

my people

why aren't you talking to me?!
i could scream 
i just miss you

i do want you in my life!
i love you
i just 
can't 
hold all this up on my own.
if you don't want to help me carry this,
then just tell me!
maybe then I won't
be talking to 
the wall.
see you later then
maybe
why do i even care?
you guys left me homeless 
you guys left me 
without my people
do i have to remake every friend i've made?
but i still love you,
that's why i'm
still trying right now!
stop pretending you still like me
if you don't!
all you're doing is rubbing salt in the wound 
no, 
more like
bleeding heart flowers.
 

Sep 23
poem, rant challenge: Six Words

6


six words 
is really 
not enough 

Sep 21

Rejection is Better Than Silence

I'm not even going to pretend--I know it's difficult, not knowing me, barely aware that there could be a face behind the words you've read online, the pain and ecstasy and everything in-between. I suppose I've written in first-person so often, it's numbed you all to the fact that I'm not writing about someone else--it's me. God, of course, it is. I can't be anyone else--I could never write or laugh or smile or cry or scream like someone else. I could never, ever be someone else, even if I cut myself open and pried my flesh apart, picked my brain from my skull and switched it out, scratched and tore at my face until it wasn't mine, couldn't be mine. Bled through my flesh, rebirthed from the blood on my skin--someone new, someone better, someone who got everyone and everything she liked. So, today, right now, whoever comes across this gets to see exactly what I write--and know who it is on the other side. 
Sep 13
rant challenge: Folklore
frankoceanwhereisthealbum's picture

The Truth About Hawaii

Did you know that the reason Hawaii is part of the US is because the President of the United States married the queen of  Hawaii? Well, that's not true. When I was younger, my brothers would always mess with me. "If you come into  my room one more time without knocking, I'll tell Spider-man to take away your toilet paper privileges,"  "If you don't massage my back then I'll tell Mom to leave you at home with Grandma while the rest of us are on vacation," "Voldemort was real and the government tried to cover it up." Things like that. And as a gullible 6 year old, I believed all of them. On our way to Hawaii, I was talking with them and I asked them how it was part of our country if it wasn't connected on the map. And you can guess what they told me. I don't think they thought I believed them, but when we got to the hotel, I became friends with another kid in the lobby. I told her "the truth" and she, also being gullible, believed me.
Aug 19
Mrs_Mango3340's picture

Brace Face

I got braces a few weeks ago.
It's a BIG change.
I can no longer bite into a burger or hot dog.
I cant chew things with my front teeth.
I have to take an extra fifteen minutes to brush and floss.
I'm not embarrassed because nearly every kid in my grade has them.
When I'm eating food in a restaurant I catch people staring at me.
I see little kids giving my braces big bug eyes. 
It's not a good feeling.......
My teeth HURT and yet I know its because they are working.
It's kind of scary to think that just a few weeks ago, the first day of the next 2 years of my life, happened.



 
Aug 10

Nothing serious just writing my feelings down

My dad moved out and well I'm pretty sure he's not moving back in and at this point I want my parents to get divorced I don't even care anymore, I'm FINALLY getting rid of my toxic friends which feels awesome, Finding more out about myself every now and then, Im tired of everything, I found a few true friends, middle school sucks, brother is going to college, I'm not really happy but I can't tell my mom because she already has a lot going on and I don't want to add to that besides I'm not really open with my feelings so this is hard for me, I tried asking for a therapist but all I did was cry and I couldn't get a word out, found out I'm pansexual so.., I had a panic attack in the middle of a store cuz of my social anxiety, got anime merch :), I hate everything except my friends, sleep, anime, and food. I wanna do volleyball but people are pressuring me to do track because of my "long legs".
Jul 26
Yellow Sweater's picture

New Pollen, Old Soil

Growing up, I didn’t realize there was such a thing as a conservative intellectual tradition, or, to be honest, even a moderate one. I assumed (in a similar vein to people on the far right) that all real thinking was being done outside the mainstream. In the bubble I was raised in, people read Noam Chomsky and Charles Eisenstein like the bible, attended conferences on Ecoterrorism and how to build your own permaculture communities, embraced the idea of defunding the police before it was an Instagram slogan. The New York Times was a fine place to get basic news, but if you wanted a real perspective you had to go to The New Republic or Mother Jones. Anarcho-Communism was not a radical ideology, rather a natural and necessary next step for human civilization. 
Jul 22
Yellow Sweater's picture

To Lorca's Missing Grave, To Franco, To Those Who've Left the American Flag a Bloodless/Bloody Blue and Black

Okay, so I am a bit embarrassed because this is like the fifth ode to Lorca I have posted on here. But sometimes you need obsessions. They are something through which you can channel your passion. 

True patriots always die because it is dangerous to love something so easily set on fire.

(Love is something easily set on fire.)  

Oh, Lorca, you loved your country, but your country gored you on the horns of its bulls, 
of its sacred beasts of cruel geometry, who knew nothing of the ritual that created them.    

Can’t you love yourself and love your country and love the country that exists inside yourself? 
Can’t you love the dirt and love the water and love the wind that leaves new pollen in the streets? 
Can’t you love a man and love the church and love the candles that turn into burning pillars? 

Passion is more than its fiery culmination. Lorca’s Spain was more than its murder.

Words

Every single person on earth is the embodiment of a different word. How would a society like this function? What would you be?
May 24

A concept of time.


    I have come here to share and decipher things of philosophical interest to me, and hopefully to you. Things that I have considered for a long time, but have only recently began to truly analyze. To begin I will explain a philosophical idea, that I consider and truly believe to be factual in every concept of reality.
These two rules are a fact that determine many of my more complex philosophies:
    There is only one possible future, and there is no possible way to change that fact.
May 20

writers block

I want to write.
And yet here I am, deleting the same line over,
and over,
and over.
It feels like sometimes, words simply...
f
 l
  o
   w
      from us.
And the other times, words come to a
s
t
o
p.
We can't control it. Maybe others can. I can't. It's something so uncontrollable, and yet so unnoticeable. When the words flow, writing is so simple.  
I have a friend who says she can't write. I have multiple friends like that, who spend hours on a small haiku because they can't break that dam that stops the flow of thoughts and words and everything in between. 
The dam can be repaired, of course. But sometimes, once broken and rebuilt, it's easier to break again.
Apr 19

Remarkable: A Reflection on the Twenty First Century

If I was born in the fourteen hundreds, I might have been burned as a witch. As a queer, mentally ill, autistic Jewess, there would have been no chance for me. If I was born in the sixteenth century I might not have lived very long, for I was born three weeks early and had jaundice. In the 1800s, I might have been comtitted to a sanatorium and left to wander empty halls alone and more crazy then when I started out. In the '50s, I might have recived an ice pick lobotomy at the hands of some uncaring doctor and left with my frontal love scrambled. In the '70s, I would have lived through the passing of the American's with Disablities Act and how disabled people had to fight and fight and fight to ahve their voices heard.
Apr 16
The second mouse's picture

Stability

The present we live in is as unstable as the future we walk into.
One second, one minute, one look, one scratch, one wave of emotions different and I wouldn’t be here.
Everything has been set up so beautifully yet horrifyingly perfect so that we experience this second in the moment for each of us. And that scares the shit out of me.
What happens if I look the wrong way, forget my keys, look at my phone?
We play a game of Russian Roulette with a million guns already shot a million times, and we do so willingly to the point we’ve forgotten the bullets even there
and I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse
 

Apr 15
rant challenge: Nostalgia
Morgan D's picture

Younger me nostalgia

When I was a younger child I used to get up every morning on the weekends and watch the show Courage The Cowardly Dog.  Now that I’m older I know that it was quite disturbing and I have no idea why I liked it so much. If I was given the chance to watch it again I probably would but I might not like it as much. It is about Courage the dog who has to survive all of these weird scenarios. The one I remember the most is when courage and his owners were transported into the painting at a painting museum. Anyway I miss the show and might watch it again. 
Apr 05
poem, opinion, rant challenge: Repeated

Hate Worthy For The Gods

We were made for the gods, for petty entertainment.
We were made for the gods, we fight their battles. 

They will laugh their shallow laughs,
watch in amusement of our blood baths. 
We were made for the gods, sculpted and shaped. 
We died for the gods, in an attempt to escape. 
We were made for the gods, and learned to hate.
but
mortal wars are far worse
disagreement becomes a curse. 
fatalities and crying mothers
all because of hating others. 

human hate. 
​limp on a puppet string, dangling from perpetual power. 

How I wish it would stop. 


 
Apr 03

The World Wants

Snoopy’s obsessed with his French girls, and Clario wants Sofia. Jane pines for Bingley, and Trump always needs more. Gandhi strove for peace, Eve a fruit. Slaves want freedom, and birds need wings. Lucy chases Schroder and Romeo loves Juliet. The ocean needs a shore and a shore needs the ocean. The hills need the valley and the valley needs the hills. We need the world but the world doesn’t need us. We want space but space doesn’t want us. We need each other but we push each other away. Killers bring Death but Death is their downfall. Mirrors show reality but reality shatters. Poets need words and words are made for them. We want what we can’t have and take for granted what we do. We come together only to break, and break only to come together. Time tears and time heals. We search for the truth but we lie. We live only to die. We laugh only to cry and cry only to laugh. We live only to die, we live only to die.    

 
Mar 31

screaming in my head

i just sent a message 
to someone who i can't say the name of
because they hurt me
and now i'm screaming
because i can't talk to them
and no one knows i sent a message
so i'm in a full-blown panic
because i'm scared they hate me.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Mar 13

moving: the good and the bad.

soft spoken skin, 
unmatched to the 
horrors of the night.

dirt filled nails,
laughing children
with fruit juice dribbling  down their chins.

marble and gold.
they tease me.
and i will watch 
in envy.
of the queens crown.

tragic endings or slow beginnings haunt me. I do not know what to do.
the good and the bad of the move.
 
Mar 07
rant challenge: CJP-Bully

Grow Up and Listen

You don't wanna talk to me or listen to me or hear what it is I want to tell you so badly and that's fine.
You never want to listen to anyone anyway.
You'll never understand what it's like for everyone else because you never listen.
You don't care and you don't want to.
You're stubborn and greedy and everything I dislike in a person.
You picked and poked at the people I love for being different.
You nag and nudge because you can never be like them.
You can never be original or funny or free.
You'll always be trapped by your own hate, unable to be happy, unable to let go.
You'll never understand what it's like to be born in a body that you don't feel is yours.
You'll never know what it's like to be scoffed at and ridiculed for being yourself.
You'll never know love or friendship or family and for that, I feel sorry for you.
You're just too busy being torn by hate and chewed up by its disgusting mouths.
Mar 03

I Am The Quaking Aspen––A Revelation

Did you know?

The tree certainly couldn't have relayed the message to you.
You named it a wise old woman:
tender, battered, sexual.

It seems you knew.

Her scars––the tree's––were so similar to yours.
And she told them to you. In colors, in seasons, in falling branches.
In her quaking––unsure if it was applause or fear-trembling.

And yet you weren't aware she was you.

You created her story, her labia and breasts, tears and dance moves and 
sacred femininity. 
She was truly old though––and strong.
You didn't make those up. Those were simple observations.