Hello my name is Page, and im an addict.
I drown myself sometimes
But in sweeter things then cold lakes and destructive thoughts.
See sometimes it's disguised in body glitter and shots.
And instead of bullets my gun fires tequila.
Escapism is a funny thing
It comes in all forms of running
But for those of you like me
I'm not very fast so I don't use my feet
I use liquid that tastes like acid
So as it slips down my throat I can pretend it's burning more then just my liver
It can also set fire to the void inside of me melt the edges and seal them shut so I can ALWAYS feel happy.
Because feeling sad fucking sucks
So I get it
Hello my na
I am going fucking crazy
There is no God that I beileve in
If there were then I could blame him..
And that would be to easy
I have to go things the hard was
Why do I even write poetry?
Play on stupid rhymes and metaphors hoping maybe my words
Will save someone's life
But who is gunna save mine?
Tonight I am not strong enough
Tonight is one of those nights where I a complete mental
Break down in my near future
And I am the only one here..
He has tattoos on the backs of both hands,
and I catch myself admiring the way they move while he touches me..
Photos that mean the world to him
Dancing with the movement of his fingertips over my body.
And i catch myself noticing the Cresent moon between his eyes and his chin..
The way the edges of his mouth turn upwards every time he hears my name..
It's a moon... just for me..
As if I'm some lost girl chasing a light at the end of the tunnel that may or may not have been my love life...
I've been so utterly confused since the first time.
I served my heart steaming hot on a platter to a man who had no intention of loving me back -
It asked me for a name,
and I couldn't give it one.
I didn't have to think for long when I decided a poem I type on a screen wouldnt have very much meaning.
Technology doesn't vibe with me.
For lack of a better term.
A pen when I write becomes an extension of me.
And this phone.. remains forever another world.
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And as I already knew,
This didn't go well..
Hello my name is Page, and im an addict.
I drown myself sometimes
But in sweeter things then cold lakes and destructive thoughts.
See sometimes it's disguised in body glitter and shots.
And instead of bullets my gun fires tequila.
Escapism is a funny thing
It comes in all forms of running
But for those of you like me
I'm not very fast so I don't use my feet
I use liquid that tastes like acid
So as it slips down my throat I can pretend it's burning more then just my liver
It can also set fire to the void inside of me melt the edges and seal them shut so I can ALWAYS feel happy.
Because feeling sad fucking sucks
So I get it
Hello my na
I am going fucking crazy
There is no God that I beileve in
If there were then I could blame him..
And that would be to easy
I have to go things the hard was
Why do I even write poetry?
Play on stupid rhymes and metaphors hoping maybe my words
Will save someone's life
But who is gunna save mine?
Tonight I am not strong enough
Tonight is one of those nights where I a complete mental
Break down in my near future
And I am the only one here..
He has tattoos on the backs of both hands,
and I catch myself admiring the way they move while he touches me..
Photos that mean the world to him
Dancing with the movement of his fingertips over my body.
And i catch myself noticing the Cresent moon between his eyes and his chin..
The way the edges of his mouth turn upwards every time he hears my name..
It's a moon... just for me..
As if I'm some lost girl chasing a light at the end of the tunnel that may or may not have been my love life...
I've been so utterly confused since the first time.
I served my heart steaming hot on a platter to a man who had no intention of loving me back -
He has tattoos on the backs of both hands,
and I catch myself admiring the way they move while he touches me..
Photos that mean the world to him
Dancing with the movement of his fingertips over my body.
And i catch myself noticing the Cresent moon between his eyes and his chin..
The way the edges of his mouth turn upwards every time he hears my name..
It's a moon... just for me..
As if I'm some lost girl chasing a light at the end of the tunnel that may or may not have been my love life...
I've been so utterly confused since the first time.
I served my heart steaming hot on a platter to a man who had no intention of loving me back -
Perhaps we human beings are little more than the thoughts and dreams of Earth.
Like all thoughts, we think our existence and our agency as the primary importance.
Sure, we can mingle with other thoughts, change and evolve into something a little bigger or grander.
But then, like a thought in the head, or a dream in the night, it ends, whether by eclipse or by cataclysm.
What if we are simply dreams of Earth?
Brief like shooting stars.
Ephemeral as auroras.
And being Earth, Earth dreams and thinks with so much more complexity and grandeur and age—
a temporal narrative that unfolds and changes wher