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I think it was always going to be sunny
I think we knew it from the start
One of the first
A character
Created to take care
To make sure
And it started
With a song.

"You are my Sunshine"
She would sing
From the very beginning
Before the accident
Before the hurt
Before Him.

"My only Sunshine"
She rubs our back
Lulling me to sleep on that old old leather couch.
The quilt and lace blanket covering my tiny body.

"You make me happy"
I loved her, I thought
I had no clue what love was
Love was required she taught me
I loved everyone then
There was no bad in my life.

"When skies are grey"
The wind howled outside her old house, the windows creaking
I was with Nana
I didn't care.

"You'll never know dear, how much I love you"
There it is again, love
So why didn't I feel it?

"Please don't take my sunshine away."

I think that was how sunshine was created
Made
Came into existence
She was made after Nana
Made into a caretaker

Thank you sunny
cleo Jun 4
turn back the clocks, rewind it
there's something else behind this
not that hard to find it
but hard enough to fight it
i am the strength, the saftey, the fear.
i stay close, always near.
the one they call when things go wrong
the silence hurts, their screams a song.
the body aches, battered bruised
couldve been simple, had he refused
you
all those nights ago.
but he didnt know.
i keep them alive.
let the body thrive.
system poems part 1
wasnt any reason for me to lie.
the scars and bruises where they lie
why on earth do you doubt
why do you push and shove and shout

selfishly sick is what i be
the trauma fake? oh honestly!
i let it happen
i hurt myself
i do it all
and don't ask for help

i am failing critically
i am sick, selfishly.

i let you laugh
i let you lie
i kiss my "normal" life goodbye.
i let my thoughts
dissipate
let the next person take my place

if i lied for over a year
wouldnt that make the truth everclear?
foggy memories swirling endlessly

we are sick, selfishly

-yjp
a poem about our mother not being able to accept our disorder.
(dx)
cleo Jan 14
it neither killed me,
nor made me stronger,
it did a third thing

~

got angels and devils sitting on my shoulders, in my ears
these different parts of me— you’ve seen them through the years

i live in fragments
i'm never whole
it's not the life i thought i'd lead
at least it's never ******* dull

i lost my head
found these instead
and never felt quite like 'me' again

even when i’m alone
i’m never lonely

~

i hear the voices
from the inside out
oh stop; i recognize that look you're giving me:
"why keep it hidden from us until now?"

i don't recall much from after ten years old
let’s call that 'brain rot'
lost memories of repeat awful happenings
that i still don't know if i deserved or not (you didn’t)(x2)


the only one who ever truly knows what's going on is you
cleo Dec 2022
there’s somethin funny going on up in this house
check the front, now the windows, see? the lights are out
no one’s home, just us voices, extra extroverted noises
just the other people in your head making you regret your choices
it’s just us bonus mouths to feed and sometimes hands to hold
we hope you hear us when we say this covert thing is getting kinda old
Caesar Nov 2024
Solar system
Powerful beyond dimensions
No Devine intervention stops it from turning
personally perfect and permanently indifferent
Rotating around the burning star
Endlessly orbiting surrounding with all its attention
Ain’t that something to mention!
Endless studies if not only about your one and only
ain’t that romantic
To be observed so intensely
That’s definitely hot
Something that got me burning brighter and hotter than any giant burning star
The center of your attention and your devotion
Just had fun with this one
Isaace Oct 2024
I had been staring at corporate blocks of incestuous dual notation, rippling within a multitudinous sea horn. Many of my skins partook in the abuse of subterfuge in order to forget the sea horns. We would head into the night, deep into oblique dens of solitary apparition, conjuring that which had plagued our mental cognition.

With cascading light festering, lurid transcendence of encumbered paralysis began. Physical forms traversing innumerable alleyways of dread, between concrete moulded into the shape of modernity and cables transpiring towards opaque operating systems which would import and export our collected consciousness for the trade of gelatinous brain matter, had overcame us.

Sliding into abyssal-black tar of stroking, crawling, writhing primal sludge; subsequently escaping through pores of sweat coagulation, allowing silk-woven experience to be spun within a lair of manifestation, coinciding with visions of mutilation.
I am tired of the tiredness itself
which is even to tired to consume me,
so that I could go through the digestive system of tiredness
and come out again,
at least those parts of me,
that the bowels of tiredness can't digest.
Robert Ronnow Feb 2024
There are 12 types of joy:
simple joy
almost joy
systemic joy
Saturday joy
expressing joy
knowing joy
all joy
max joy
constant inputs of joy
single greatest joy
sacrifice or joy
the face of joy
at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.
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