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Human, caring, sweet, and true
These words mean a lot to you
I am not who I say I am
Everything you know about me is a sham

One, Two Three,
Why do you believe in me?
Four, Five, Six,
I'm no more than a pile of sticks

My rhymes are childish
And so are my thoughts
Everything I say
Comes out ******* in knots

This is not a poem
Nor is it a song
This is not a story
Yet you keep singing along

Why can't you leave?
Why must you stay?
Why must you sit there,
day after day?

Waiting, whispering, hoping, crying
Begging that this won't be my final letter
Holding tight onto that sweater
Praying that we'll last forever
Wishing that you could have done better
read it again but as a nursery ryhme. what do you think this nursery rhyme is about?

It wasn't your fault.☀️❤️‍🩹
WHAT WILL IT TAKE
TO MAKE YOUR TOUCH GO AWAY
I CANNOT SHED MY RUINED SKIN
IS THIS THE END OR DID YOU JUST BEGIN?

I WANT MY BODY BACK
I WANT MY LIFE
I WANT MY HEART BACK
I WANT MY KNIFE

MEMORIES AND SCARS
DECORATE MY BRAIN
REGRET AND STARS
CALM THE PAIN

SNAKES FEAR ME
DOGS LOVE ME
I AM NOT ME
YOU HAVE RUINED ME

I AM ROTTING INSIDE AND OUT
I PEEL MY SKIN AND BURN MY TONGUE
JUST TO FILL THE HOLE THAT YOU DUG
JUST TO FORGET WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
you deserve to rot.
can't wake up,
it´s not a dream,
trying to escape it,
with no way out,
just dissociating,
disconnecting from the world,
the feelings,
the thoughts,
from everything,
entering the void,
a simple retreat,
only I am there,
a time out
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office


                                           Died While Trying

                                  (prompted by an idea by Nagi)


                     “Every day you play with the light of the universe”

                                                 -Neruda

          
The glory of killing an old man already dying
Is heralded by the clinking of colorful medals
As a president is helped into his Mercedes
By white-gloved lieutenants wearing golden aiguilettes

The old man dying in his bed was a challenge to evil
Through the love-letters of freedom he wrote to the world
Ambassadors of hope that could not be recalled
Just as a subtle injection cannot be withdrawn

A flowering of ideas in verses freely exchanged
Crushed beneath boots polished by frightened houseboys
Pablo Neruda
Mr. Selfish loves himself
He doesn't care about anyone else
All he does is spew spew spew
About how much better he is than you

Mr. Selfish is a liar
He doesn't care if your mind is on fire
All he cares about is himself
And couldn't give a **** about anyone else

Mr. Selfish pretends to be sweet
He fools everyone into thinking there's nothing to defeat
If you are hurt he wouldn't cry
In fact he'd laugh and wish you'd die

Mr. Selfish is my name
I am evil and I am insane
All I care about is myself
Everyone else can go **** themself.
narcissistic episode
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