Nothing To See Here

A collection of bad poetry and writing. Also pictures of girls that I believe are beautiful.

[peact]

Pass

Within the space of each passing moment

I catch a glimpse of my reaper in passing

As they passively sit upon their throne

Silently watching as the seconds burn

Quietly waiting for when it's our turn

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Much

So I'm in a much better place than I was before

And in a much worse place than I was before

Much stronger than I was

Much weaker than I was

Much smarter

Much dumber

Much of Everything

Much of nothing

Always in motion

Yet never

In another location

So I'm in a much better place than I was before

And in a much worse place than I was before

[peact]

Sea of Hands

So each hand handled another

And gave a hand to the other

On the handiness

Of their handiwork

[peact]

Thursday Mornings

depression hits like dump truck

pinning you against its grill

stuck on a drive with no will

it will grind you down for miles

slooowly through its several tires

smearing your corpse

across the road

leaving a fear

that it will always

be back for more

[peact]

Depression

a hot knife spreading butter

of ones own suffering

on the crust of life

[peact]

Common Occurrence

Oh God

What is this

What have I done

Look at this

Look at that

All crap

All garbage

Every piece

Every part

Everything thing in my art

Just a waste of time

A waste of a life

Never gains

Never grows

Never breaking new ground

Just a failure

All around

[peact]

Pressure

can you feel it

every part of me

every bone

every muscle

every cell strained

as they rush through my veins

down to the molocule

vibrating with pain

can you hear it

this silent screaming

beaming in all directions

emitting endlessly

at full power

with the volume broken

and i withstand it all

like an idiot

letting it all bounce around

increasing in speed and intensity

with no relief

no release

everything gets crushed

with enough pressure

[peact]

The world moved with the movement, like that of a yawn. Slow and with deliberate intentions. The conclusion was known before it had even started. We could only watch as the events began to unfold.

[peact]

Sitting

I am sitting here quitely

While the demons

Continue beating

At the door

Crying

Wailing

They desperately

Throw themselves

At the wall

Breaking

After every fall

Wishing

Dreaming

To fullfill

Their calling

Not to come in

But to get out

To express their

Full potential

Their purpose

So they continue

Their assault

To no avail

And as their jailer

I just sit

Quitely watching

Wondering

Who is at fault

[peact]

BANNED

What happens to those dirty blogs

When the debauchery

Gets cleaned out of the logs?

Is it the feeling

Like the first time breathing?

like coming out of the smog

Into clean air

To run soundly, water freely fleeing

From the grip of a dirty clog

I ask this then:

Where do the banned go, to let their essence flow?

Where do they go, to let their inner freak show?

Where do they go

to show their pictures

of masterfully paired

tits and tinctures

surrounded by a SOG.

Videos of amature made pornos

With women barking on all fours.

Panting like a good dog.

High speed captures

On the impact of a sack of genitals versus

Heavy

Metal

Clogs

An artful black and white photo of a tongue

licking the cum

off one famous blue hedgehog

A link to an attempt

at the world's biggest

Dong

NOW STREAMING

Let's not forget

the classic

tasteful 3D rendering

of Tifa

getting fucked

by an anthropomorphic Mog.

Where do they go?

To be a ho?

Where do they go to escape

The enforced social norms

To release the social tension

of being a cog?

when the stress of the press

Is put upon them

Where they are wound up tightly

And unable to unwind

Everyday

Having to hold

Onto every spoke

Moving along with crowd

But always grinding

Never finding its fit

Because the piece

Doesn't fit it's space.

It's never quite fit in its place

These poor

Poor souls

Where do they go?

[peact]

You continue to run little guy

When will you break free?

Will you run the circle till you die

Or break the cycle and flee?

[peact]

Itch

The world is itchy

So I scratch scratch scratch

Scratch the itch away

Scratch scratch scratch

Scratch at the pain

Scratch scratch scratch

Scratch till I bleed

Till I have dug deep

Beneath the surface

Under the disturbance

Into the heat

Of the infection

There I sink

An injection

Into perfect

Imperfection

And without an ounce of will

Try to scrape the surface

Clean

It makes everything feel

All so very

Itchy

[peact]

I wish to burn brightly

[peact]

Back to the same old

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Greetings

Can you see it?

The signs?

Their movement

Their sighs

Their everyday

Disillusionment

Of everyday

Life

The death

Hanging

In their eyes

I can and I fear

That within

That moment

They will too

[peact]

I can say some positive things every once in a while, and it feels good to do so honestly speaking.

[peact]

In a never ending battle

Against forces unimaginable

Where every statement of survival

Is a defiance against the odds

Against the gods

Every blow deflected

And defended

Is a miracle

You

will stand

And remain strong

- I believe in you