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Poetry Turds



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Sat Apr 16, 2016 1:49 pm
soundofmind says...



15.

All I know is
I’m done playing charades
It’s a pretty useless game
Played in real-time.

Apparently I suck at it
Because I’m the one who’s losing.

I'm tired of guessing,
And failed attempts
To interpret your manipulation
From sincerity.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sat Apr 16, 2016 2:09 pm
soundofmind says...



16. Deleted by author :^) no worrie!
Last edited by soundofmind on Wed May 10, 2023 12:04 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Wed Apr 20, 2016 3:35 am
soundofmind says...



17.

would it be ok
for me to smell the flowers on your wrist
as i tie them
for they smell so sweet

i just want to remember this moment;
a few seconds, only a blip in the expanse of eternity

perhaps this memory
will tie us together
as i tie the bow
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Wed Apr 20, 2016 4:14 am
soundofmind says...



18.

there's nothing modern medicine can do to fix me
there's nothing this world offers that can satisfy me
my rest is found in the Lord
the one who sustains me
the one who transforms me

I will not conform to the patterns of this world
humanism isn't what I'm really looking for
I'm looking at the one named Jesus
I'm looking at the one named Jesus
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 6:06 am
soundofmind says...



19.

being reactionary seems so temporary
I don't need to give myself more things to carry
I've got enough to deal with as it is

if I look at the way all of my time is spent
I ask: what's the point if I can't see past the present
there's so much more going on than what I see
there's a bigger picture where the center isn't me
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 6:15 am
soundofmind says...



20.

I don't know how to argue
so I fall back on the little I know
from what I've seen on T.V.
I wonder why it seems their strategies
work so much better on-screen,
and in retrospect I remember that
those arguments were scripted.

Is that why this is one fight
you won't let me win?
All of your spatterings seem pre-prepared,
as if you anticipated my every word.
How can I make up for my lack
of overthinking or analysis?
Why can't I win?

I don't understand why we're talking
if you won't hear me out.
I know that you're partially right
but you don't have to shout.

I guess that's the difference between
discussions, debates, and arguments.
Instead of an open mind you come to me
pressing upon me
insisting
that I am wrong.

And I don't know how to argue with you.
I really don't want to.
I try to keep from responding
as you press every button and trigger point you know,
I'm convulsing inside,
but somehow I know you can see it outwardly.
Maybe that's what encourages you
to keep pressing.

But even though you make me cringe
with your pointed words,
every word you throw at me
just makes me more sure
that I don't agree.

I don't know how to argue,
but you aren't changing me.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 6:17 am
soundofmind says...



21.

I'll stop asking you to show me how you love me,
because you already have.
I cannot close my heart to you, as I look upon the cross.
Last edited by soundofmind on Sat Apr 23, 2016 8:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 1:15 pm
soundofmind says...



22.

I’m crying and you don’t see me
Because I’ve hidden behind my skin.
I know there’s something broken
But I’m too afraid to fix it.
If I reach out I am vulnerable,
And if I stay here I am stuck.
I don’t know what to do,
But I can feel myself breaking.

I feel it when you jab at me, playfully
But I hate it.
I feel it when I’m all alone and lonely
But I don’t move, like I’m sedated
By my sadness.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 11:40 pm
soundofmind says...



23.

I dare not say a word,
because no one knows I know,
and I don't want to explain how I do.

I do not want to speak, not even
to tell you how I feel,
because I know
you do not want to hear it.

Yet,

I fear that in my silence
I have fallen again, into the pit.
Now no one will hear me
At all.

Now I finally have a chance to say something, but...

When it matters, my voice is too small.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sun Apr 24, 2016 7:29 am
soundofmind says...



24.

I breathe in.
My body shakes so hard that the oxygen does too as it enters my lungs.
I try to still myself, tucking up my legs, hugging them under my arms.
I grip myself tightly, praying that I'm strong enough to keep still.
I don't want anyone to hear.

For so long all I wanted to do was cry, but now that I can
I wonder if it was worth the wish. Because now there's no
going back.

I either feel nothing or I feel everything. There is no in between.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Mon Apr 25, 2016 6:02 am
soundofmind says...



25.

I'm not great at consistency.
My schedule barely classifies as healthy.
I sleep when I can bear it and I'm
lucid when I can't,
if I'm ever truly woken I feel like dirt
because I can't get myself together.

Perhaps with help I stand on my own, but
it doesn't take much to make me fall.
I tell myself to pull myself together
but I need a shape to take.

Such is my consistency, like that of the sands.
I'm not too solid in my form, I fall right through your hands.
I ebb and flow with what's around me
but I'm no good for keeping steady
what should be upon a rock.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Tue Apr 26, 2016 7:36 am
soundofmind says...



26.

I'm at the end of the rope - doesn't mean I'm hopeless
just means I've had enough of me
Tired of all these temporary fascinations
that gather my attentions - trepid realizations
of the meaningless monotony

Tired of wasting this breath of life -
being but a whisper, hardly echoing
in the timeline of forever.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Tue Apr 26, 2016 11:39 pm
soundofmind says...



27.

All I wanted was attention.
What'll it take to finally earn your affection?
You say you love me but your all your words are hollow
I couldn't hear them over the sound of your definitive no
I wish that we could change the clocks and go back to when things were brighter
When our future had potential and you could've changed your ways before but
now it is too late - everyone keeps telling me otherwise but I
don't want to admit, that I say it's so, so I don't have to hear your lies.
If you don't meant it, then I don't want to hear it anymore.
So hold your tongue before I catch it cause I'm really done.

All I wanted was attention.
But now I don't need your affection.
I still want it but I can live without it 'cause it's not the thing that keeps me breathing.
You're not the one who taps my chest to the time of my heart beat,
beating in my mind, keepin' me alive - no, that isn't you.
So if I have to live without you then I will but I still...
I know that you love me, as much as you can. But that doesn't change a thing
'cause your'e still the same man.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Tue Apr 26, 2016 11:44 pm
soundofmind says...



28.

I hear their voices saying "cast their cords from us"
As if rules are for restricting and as if morals were optional
dependent upon your feelings which are turbulent and optical
illusions - though legitimate - cannot be depended on for anything
but the silent decay of righteousness - rejections of the holy one
cause "I don't feel it's true"

They say "it's outdated" like a truth can ever fade
just because time has gone forward doesn't mean God ever changed
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Wed Apr 27, 2016 1:12 am
soundofmind says...



29.

I guess I should stop wishing that people would see: what I feel
is so obvious
because by now I've become
so irreversibly good at faking it - or rather -
ignoring it completely.

I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay
I'm not okay


Don't read between the lines because there's nothing there to see
that will make sense to you/
You won't see the whole picture, so why even bother?
It takes too long to explain
and too much digging - too much scraping off the scum of my inner man
than my liking.

But will anything ever be fixed
if I do not address it?
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  








You cannot have an opponent if you keep saying yes.
— Richard Siken