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174 Reviews

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Thu Apr 13, 2017 2:58 am
soundofmind says...



13.

new clothes have a certain smell
a fabricated scent of the stale air in the store
and the mixed smells of threads not worn in

for some reason, most new clothes smell the same
like toys stored away too long, in a plastic box
always have the same smell - dust, and something difficult to describe
as if inaction takes on a scent
that only the most forgetful people get a whiff of
unless they go to the store, where things sit still for hours

i'm wearing a brand new shirt today
it's big and loose and falls off my shoulders if I don't button it up
but sometimes i'll pull the collar up around my face, to my nose
breathe in deep the smell of newness, like how some would smell a new book
perhaps, I could've washed it,
but then I wouldn't be able to experience this
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 14, 2017 2:55 am
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soundofmind says...



14.

rotate, rotate, rotate
count my fingers and my toes before you get dizzy
I'll catch you when you stumble
and your head is spinning
and we'll do it all over again

this is how we entertain ourselves
how we walk away with stories and fear ourselves
we're capable of sadness - can we free ourselves
from the cyclical embracing of the past

is nostalgia just elaborate escape from the present
looking backwards (tinted glasses)
because looking forward is too hard

catch me, catch me, catch me
but you're spinning too, and I can't remember
why I joined you
but you grabbed my hand and you pulled me in
now I wake every day just to rotate again

help me, help me, help me
but I can't help you, though you say it again and again
I've done all I can - still you push it away
what you want help for I can't do

I can't help you kill you
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 14, 2017 11:23 am
soundofmind says...



15.

I really miss those pizza dreams
the ones that were bizarre and full of
crazy plot twists, odd characters,
and brightly colored things happening quickly
always weird but never scary

I want those dreams that are fun to retell
over and over because the events are so out there,
unexpected, and fast paced
a roller coaster ride of entertainment and food for thought

but now all I have are stress dreams
weird in a new way dreams
my dad is the antagonist dreams - him always
doing something wrong and not apologizing for it,
him blaming stuff on everyone and never helping me

now I wake up all tense, it seems
from these running away from "them" dreams
never remembering the worst parts but somehow remembering enough
to wake up disturbed and disillusioned
and wondering if my subconscious knows something I don't
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Fri Apr 14, 2017 1:11 pm
soundofmind says...



16. (a rap you can hear me poorly rap over this person's great song)

don't know how to frame my words when storytelling so they sound the best
even talking feels like a test, when my sentences get scrambled in my chest
I try to spit them out
I'm trying every method known just to get them out
Verbal constipation tying me down like nothing known to man
Everybody tells me to express myself
but I hardly even know how to release myself
from the picketing fences of hesitation
around my tongue preventing me from my creation
of art, or that's just what I call it so it sounds
smart, though rarely are depictions of my heart
expressed in intelligent stanzas composed -
flashing extravaganzas of prose
rather it's mental processing pretending to be poetry
a torrent of thoughts that are threatening to entangle me
yeah
I've never cared about praises from men
for how relatable my writings might've been
those things never really meant much to me
'cause when I write I'm an escapee
from the cycle of thoughts in my brain
that are just to difficult to explain
without writing them down so I can see them in front of me
and therefore judge if they're reality
Last edited by soundofmind on Sun Jul 09, 2017 2:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sat Apr 15, 2017 1:15 am
soundofmind says...



17. (I don't really like this one but whatever)

I can't imagine what I'd say
would change your mind anyway
you've gone too far ahead of me
in the future - now you're dead to me
or so I wish it were so
that you would've broken my heart even though
we both never had a chance
we both suck at romance, and you know

I have found path of my own too
I figured out how to operate without you
who needs you who need you who needs -
why'd you have to be here, looking at me
you know it can't be, with us
cause you have her and can't have me

I hate myself for saying I love you
in the echoes of my mind
I know it's wrong and isn't fair to you
so I ignore it like a madman
drives me crazy cause I know when
you found her I could've made it
but I was too late
to steal your heart

You would've been king and I would be queen
but I guess fate's not what it seemed
and I was wrong
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sat Apr 15, 2017 3:32 am
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Charm says...



14 is so sosososossosoososososososo beautiful and heartbreaking. it made my heart hurt and i teared up. in my head i was imaging two kids spinning around together but then the ending was so heartbreaking. it made me think of how harsh the world becomes when you grow up. dang now i'm all emotional.
Last edited by Charm on Sat Apr 15, 2017 4:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
  





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Sat Apr 15, 2017 4:01 am
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soundofmind says...



@Primadonna aaa :,0 thank you so much, I'm really glad you liked it.
Occasionally there's a good one every few poems I try to pump out haha
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sat Apr 15, 2017 7:51 am
soundofmind says...



18. (this is the fish. rap. let it out for our guest, sound of mind)

gutted like a fish caught down the stream on a Thursday
you pulled out all my ribs and send my innards down the drain - they
didn't say a thing to make you hesitate to chop off my head
detach my brains and let me be dead, no
you chopped me into pieces, gave me no mercy
if I were still alive I'm sure the very sight would haunt me
but now my spirit has lifted from my slimy flesh
There's nothing left of me anyhow
all of me's inside of you now

go on and digest me just let me confess one thing
before you forget me (you straight up just left me)
remember I was gutted before you even drew the knife
I was honest 'bout my life, my only defense a flimsy butter knife
you saw inside me before you even thought you did
you saw me like you oughta did - but haughtiness clouded your conscience
you fancied me a piece of meat, "a treasure" you wanted to seek
but all you really did was eat me, feed me, stab, cut, hurt, and deceive me
like a fish on the slab, you tried to treat me

no wonder now your breath smells so fishy
you can't be trusted yet you say you miss me
I never considered you less than family yet this is what you do,
what you do
do not
act like you know me, talk about me like you loved me though I'm gone
acting foolish is wrong, and the fool is you, in this song
you thought I was a good catch when you saw me in your net
but you haven't caught me yet, and you never will
you made the mistake when you let me spill
and decided to throw my flesh on the grill
to be fair, stickin' my gills took some skill, but
as the cutter, you have my blood on your hands
so forget where you stand according to your own demands
cause in reality you're dead in the water
the next fish awaiting the time of their slaughter
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sat Apr 15, 2017 11:39 am
soundofmind says...



19.

sometimes minor loss feels like losing a toe
you have a scar, something's permanently missing
it's small, but it affects the way you balance
subconsciously and consciously, you re-learn how to walk without it
but over time you forget that it's missing
and don't remember until you look at it
or somebody brings it up
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Sun Apr 16, 2017 9:29 am
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soundofmind says...



20.

the grass tickles my feet, the tendrils of weeds
brushing against my ankles
and because I'm antsy I jump, thinking a bug
has come landed on me
and I slap my foot, only to find nothing but a
hand shaped mark on my skin and the absence of a bug

one of these days my reflexes will repay me
with a bug's splatter on my palm
and in surprised satisfaction
I'll wipe it on the grass, and tickle it back
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Tue Apr 18, 2017 3:29 pm
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soundofmind says...



22.

seven times we made the promise,
that we would be best friends forverer
but this was before the future was clear to us
and the passing of time felt real

three times we bought friendship necklaces
you always taking the "best" half
I'd bring it around your neck and clip the chain together
because back then, our friendship was easy

when did our bond elude us and our intimacy break?
when did we drift apart and stop trying?
and when did the apathy become mutual?
when did we become the stereotype of a flickering flame burnt out
because of the distance between us?

ten times, I told myself not all friendships are forever
and my heart ached in response
it didn't have to be you (forever), but would it be anyone?
are forever friends a rare fantasy, the image of a dream unfulfilled?

I saw it coming, when you responded to my messages slower and slower
and your language changed from that of a friend to an aquaintance
and I gave up on you
perhaps, it is my fault, then, that we don't speak anymore
but why did you give up on me?
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Wed Apr 19, 2017 6:48 am
soundofmind says...



23.

what if dreams are memories
or realities in disguise
and that's why they have that misty look that memories have
in your mind's eye, when you recall them

what if dreams are truths
wrapped in bizarre packages
our consciousness telling us how we really feel,
how things really are, waiting for us to interpret it

what if dreams are another world
hidden in sleep's frame
a different plane of existence
a world of imagination

what if dreams are hints
from our subconscious
that we aren't as dull as we may seem
because a life of color exists within our minds
in the world where we dream
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Wed Apr 19, 2017 1:52 pm
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soundofmind says...



24.

nostalgia is the enemy of my happiness,
no matter how fond a memory may be
because with nostalgia, comes comparison
which never fails to rob me
of a present perspective

I'll always love the holidays
I shared with my whole family
but looking back just hurts too much
cause things like that can't happen
anymore

with a broken family tree
come splinters that lead down to me
(and it ends there, for now)
but nostalgia does no good for me,
because missing things I'll never have again
just hurts too much
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  








Percy fell face-first into his pizza.
— Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena