i like the smell of gasoline

i dont look when i cross the street

i look under my bed hoping the monsters would come after me

i dont use hands on motorbikes

on roller coasters i close my eyes

i jump on bridges thinking it’ll fall down on me sometimes

i dont wear protective gear

i let bears come real near

i run real fast downhill even when the path aint clear

the threat of death comes after me

got addicted to its taste, you see?

i am an adrenaline junky

an adrenaline junky

love the feeling im gonna die

its a little hobby of mine

look the reaper in the eye

feelin grim and so divine

taglist: @horsesarenotdeer @im-on-crack-send-help @book-girl4evaaa @hijabi-flavored-nerd @violet92959

@thoughtlescat

04/07/24

I still feel crazy

When I mention your name

It’s still ingrained in me

All your little games

All those years of sitting right at your feet, I was singing along only to your beat

All you did went so deep

I still feel so crazy

I can’t say what we had without feeling bad

I can’t compare it to what the others go through

Do I dare call it love? Will you call my bluff?

Did I make it up? Did I make it up?

I still have the messages, still have the songs, still have all the old call logs

Still remember the words you whispered in my ear… right? I’m sure that you were here?

And the sound of your voice when you were under the weather, still recall falling light as a feather

And I still remember all the admiration, all of the frustration, unanswered invitations and pathetic desperation

Can I just get some validation?

All you did went so deep

That I still feel so crazy

I can’t say what we had without feeling real bad

I can’t compare it to what people go through

Do I dare call it love? Will you just call my bluff?

Did I make it up? Did I make you up?

Did I make this up? Did I make us up?

Electricity’s

generating energy

from our body heat.

My freshman year of high school I had a writing assignment to write a poem about myself in ten or more lines with any style of poem. I didn’t want to deal with rhyming or beats or anything like that so instead I wrote 4 haikus and here they are :3

Artist'soul:

My father would rage,

I broke free from his tempest,

In my childhood days

To art I would flee,

For the colors were so free,

They gave me comfort

Painting with my brush,

The happiest I would feel,

When I get that rush

All creators know.

To create something sincere,

Is the greatest sense

prev post reminds me of my favouritest translation approach for when you can't choose between several interpretations either of a single word or a text as a whole which is just. translate it a whole bunch of times. you dont need one single perfect translation you can have like 70 that are all fucked up in different directions instead

🔑 Klucz do wolności

THE LOWER DEPTHS (1936):

A charming poor thief

Falls for landlord’s abused niece

Baron out of luck

Anne Sexton

im still me

and you’re still you

so stop acting like im a fucking loon,

because we both know that every word i say you agree to

im still me

and you’re still you

so stop acting like im a fucking loon,

because we both know im only this crazy because of you

taglist: @horsesarenotdeer @im-on-crack-send-help @book-girl4evaaa @hijabi-flavored-nerd @violet92959

@thoughtlescat

Poem of the Day 13 August 2024

Song from Abdelazar BY Behn, Aphra (1640 - 1689)

Love in fantastic triumph sat,

Whilst bleeding hearts around him flow'd,

For whom fresh pains he did create,

And strange tyrannic power he shew'd;

From thy bright eyes he took his fire,

Which round about in sport he hurl'd;

But 'twas from mine he took desire

Enough to undo the amorous world.

From me he took his sighs and tears,

From thee his pride and cruelty;

From me his languishments and fears,

And every killing dart from thee;

Thus thou and I the God have arm'd,

And set him up a Deity;

But my poor heart alone is harm'd,

Whilst thine the victor is, and free.

THE LOWER DEPTHS (1957):

In decaying shack

Residents cope with the slumps

Search for any hope

love is so insane to me. it is too gigantic unknown, it can’t be expressed properly. it’s an almost sacral power, the only one i believe in. the only one i can see and feel with no proof needed.

A society run by thieves and beggars,

Prospers in a world of glitter and gold,

Where desires feed the hungry flames,

And fixations leave the spirit cold.

Beyond the grasp of hollow gain,

Lies a world dying to be free,

Not of riches, not of fame,

But of chains we cannot see.

True freedom breathes beyond the veil,

Where capitalism’s shadow looms,

A dream at the end of every dream,

Forgotten in our gilded tombs.

We long for what we dare not fight,

A truth that glimmers in the dark,

Yet in our hearts, the fire fades,

Choked by fear, we miss the spark.

But still, the dream, it lingers on,

A whisper in the silent night,

That one day we’ll rise, and cast away,

The chains that bind us to this plight.

Can’t waste your own time.

Use your hours as capital.

Improve! Level up!

Blast Furnace

Singe the frays with reams of flameBlast the fire so everyone knowsWarning the incoming dronesFaces you trusted, now your foesUntil everyone goes…Pompeii and statues greySinge the frays with reams of flameDispersed in a silt laden skyScorched trails of fire, follow black sheets of rainFallout from better days, passed off from winter’s sageAsh in the air like snowDownwind and left coldFaces you…