media is never politics free.

#extradirty
art blog(derogatory)

Product Placement
trying on a metaphor
macklin celebrini has autism

pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art
hello vonnie
Stranger Things

if i look back, i am lost
Jules of Nature
almost home

⁂
wallacepolsom
Game of Thrones Daily

★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
Claire Keane

titsay
seen from Lebanon
seen from Georgia
seen from Iraq
seen from Uruguay

seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Venezuela
seen from Germany
seen from Pakistan
seen from Pakistan
seen from Türkiye
seen from Colombia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
@unexpectedlilacs
media is never politics free.
being a good worker is synomonous with being a good person in America.
anxiety again
every part of me wants to scream and there is absolutely no reason why
jealousy
tasting with only the sides of your tongue, any food taken in just sits High in your stomach personal victories are scoffed at empty calories artificially sweetening a life that doesn't quite measure up to their sugar only a spoonful, which helps their whole life go down so easy
heavy frosting fondant and sugar cherries they make you sick even thinking of them you feel flushed and your heart clamors leaps to find a better host
how can you stop eating more of it when it keeps dripping up your arm molasses in your veins spiced and sticky I've always hated sweets they always made my teeth hurt
today is a day that feels listless and unravelled
bottoms feel scraped and muscles clench inside me its supposed to be my body but this pain never felt like my choice
I need poetry friends
i dont have any. :(
Eulogy
I wonder how people will describe me after I'm dead.
I wonder how people will describe me after I'm dead when I'm 22.
I wonder how people will describe me after I'm dead when I'm 40.
I wonder how people will describe me after I'm dead when I'm 16.
Anxiety
Hot Shadows Pressing against my rib cage Alien spirits weave foreign patterns around and up and through and underneath my breasts And make themselves a fetid home Each dive and swoop they make Pulls a barbed wire tween the point where two circles meet a new tear is a new hole for dry air
They’ve drank my fluids and taken my movement Made my arms anchors to a spot in the Bermuda Triangle Compasses swing wildly While a heavy ship contemplates longitudes All good ideas but too far fetched to be destinations
Brush my hair
fingerscalp massages make me feel lonely. The dirt is damp, hair dry. Nests under stars never feel cozy infinite directions still bring peace. but not the same kind. soft tugs make me feel real remind me my skin is strong You cant hurt me when you try. The hair is straight and it surely is a shame tangles are so much more interesting.
Reasons to Move to LA
Its Warm So So warm Adventure Opportunities Beautiful people New friends New me Gotta get all my badges
Reasons Not to Move to LA
Wildfires Too much money Earthquakes Too much money I've never been there before I need a car I dont know anyone out there I will miss my friends I will miss my family
Thank You Note to Coffee Shops
cafes with unneeded care great writers will sit and drink they got nowhere in your cafe but at least you provided the framework your background is important
Stupid Fucking Poem Written in a Coffee Shop, #1
Your arguments and pettiness are my top shelf candy Water cooler talk of communications lost out of reach Uneven egos Unaware of their Clean drinking water but dirty hands Charts to misread Expensive slacks to spill coffee on Scoldings to be had padded with pocket change Larger than my paycheck Backaches from office yoga But at least not mirrored by bruised toes Purple grapes That can only afford bitter wine I use vinegar to cook with I wonder if their vinegar and mine taste the same.
Tired Faith
The muscles in my back are too small and my sleep is too short and my breath is too ragged and my faith is too unbelievable and tangled in things that don't matter
Friendship Failures
A moment of clarity Pinged through the silence Bouncing around my round skull I culled Truth and knew what I wanted to be A good friend Not just a good friend,
But the best friend. I wanted to be asking when You were moving so that I could be the first one there with a toolkit Smiling and sweaty Tearing my muscles new So to help you break religions And find new definites Yes that coffee table should definitely go in that room.
I wanted to cover my mouth hiding and wide sharp-toothed laugh Tinkling talking teasing About our sweet fondnesses you had for the boy next door Leaning over a rough fence I would invite him to high mac and cheese, Pasta and wine Redder than your face at that moment.
I wanted to hear every detail of your day the color of the grass as you saw it only and the smell of the coming wind the peculiar shape of the billboard you noticed What did that quote even mean?
I wanted all these things as we all might as well want the philosophers stone but instead, 4 new pills a day in a nursing home smaller stones in the same blood red color the best placebo for heaven we might offer Instead I all I heard was the endless clicking and clucking saying things I swear I'd heard you say in the way you'd hear a midnight alarm chirp I was want to speak in howls and yelps I didn’t want to hear you over the sound of my own cooing
Instead All I tasted was metallic jealousy when I was dark When mirrors only reflected you and another smiling and never me I cast myself invisible though I was really wishing the sunlight was only mine
No but instead all I felt was the tired claws of repetition raking the back of my hand that I did not recognize limbs and elbows and ears that felt so long and tired that couldn’t bear to help you lift a single box I could only see the things in it Stagnant as you were
Lamentations and small sips of holy water might be my penance but I’m not quite sure what is my salvation yet.
Underused Word
Copacetic
Love Stanza no. 1
(1 in an Infinite Series of Stanzas Omitting the Metaphor of Fire for Romantic Passion)
the math between your colors makes as much sense as breath I take in awe of them