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there’s shame I know
In what I do.
Splitting skin,
allowing precious

                                              bloo­dletting
I try to stop,
but nothing works,
nothing relieves pressure,
nothing positive

                                              help­s
the way that
opening veins,
splitting capillaries
does, how it allows

                                              me
to finally gain
real control,
the sharpness of
the silver lets me

                                              focus.
Read the isolated words from top to bottom
 Apr 2017 david mitchell
gup
If I were a ****
member, I would joust other
members with our hats.
get it cuz they pointy lol epic meme
Your journey splits into branches
Upon a dirt path of nurtured soil
Where your roots once grew.
Some live and others have passed,
Whether completely buried among a thriving colony
Or still visible, but pitiful.
Your trunk is large and round
But all the details are what make you unique;
The bike it grew through,
The swing bolted to your childhood,
The pests of society crawling all over you.

Your leaves are brown.
All you can remember is her name and yours.
And as time goes on,
I wonder which leaf will fall first.
 Apr 2017 david mitchell
gup
Welcome to Judgement!
We'll start with your web histor-
-y. ...Are you hiding?
God has evolved to our technological age boys
 Apr 2017 david mitchell
gup
'How to Eat Fried Worms'
was ironic 'cause one day
worms will eat them back.
even dinosaurs got eventually decomposed by worms. those must've been some huge worms like dang
One life's learnings distilled into a book,
The offsetting chartreuse cover
Covered with dust of decades
I seem to have forgotten
Due to my life's coming to a close.
I read the last page, hands filthy
Then drown in a final cleansing
And purification of my life.
The pages detach and evaporate;
The cover floats to a new shore
With its new sky blue hue
And human to master it.
Long lived dreams
painted with clouds
in the sky,
so vivid,
just a touch away
from her delicate fingertips,

They keep her feeling alive,
they keep her wide-eyed,
whilst the salt
from the crashing waves
spray onto her dried up lips.

A fire burns brightly
deep down inside,
but she's too numb
to feel the pain,

Through her beautiful,
innocent, tired eyes
you can see the flame.

She pushes it all aside;
in her dreams
she finds a place to hide
again.

Every day
she does the same.

Exhaling as the sun sets
each and every night,

Dying, over and over again;
reborn, time and time again,
at the sight of morning's light.

Holding her own trembling hand,
trying so hard not to lose her grip,

Balancing
on the edge
of her world,
trying so hard
not
to
fall;
she won't survive
another slip.

Listening out for answers
howling in the vicious wind,
she fails to hears anything,

Clutching hope, and faith,
praying that her love for life
will conquer everything.

She's a fighter!
Tomorrow
she will be reborn again;
from the mountain top
you will hear her sing!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
 Apr 2017 david mitchell
rose
Sometimes reality tastes like bitter coffee
I'm trying to find the sugar
:)
 Apr 2017 david mitchell
S Olson
-- mapping the world,
freckle by freckle
with my tongue,
I have found there are four of them
at various points across your belly, and

have I not allowed them entry
into this angry constellation
of teeth, and raw degradation
that has become my mouth

in the absence of you

I have digested them wholly,
never speaking of their beauty, for I
can not possess what I can not crawl into.

-- understanding the stipulation that what is
temporarily borrowed is not freely given,

again, it is you who are
so good at burning for me
what affection can imitate.
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