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#spilled writing

Lonely bed

The smell of you

Lingers in my bedsheets

Like black clouds

After a storm.

I roll around

Hoping you’d be there by my side

But I was alone

In this bed

That suddenly feels so big.

Earlier you kisses me

Until I was lost for breath

But now

I’m all curled up

Wondering why the nights feel so long

Without you by my side.

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by the waterfront i

saw in these ripples, my strange silhouette

pulling me to the surface,

the alcohol used to fill my wounds

the tears i wanted to cry

i am dressed in the morning of my own


where i felt as if a hundred voices were

telling me it’s time to fly away.

where she, at least, said i was silly

that i was a fool for remaining

but i can only wish

i can only hold her confidence and


i am scared of the water

the way others leave me

the depravity of my voice

the barrenness of my cheeks

there were nights when i would drink

and wash sorrow away with memories

but if you leave the world that i have loved

i will have lost so much

and i gazed into her beautiful eyes

her incredible eyes

and tried to hide the pain that was hurting

me inside

‘i am scared of the water’

the world inhabited by my loneliness

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I can still feel the sting. You were poisoning me all this time with sweet lies. It’s all in my blood now. I smell like you. I smell sweet and toxic. I speak lies. I am addicted to everything I hated. I am everything I hated.

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by Red Focks

Three-tangular Tricentreniality

Tranquilitops Symphonicallity.

Three Hours of Mozartius Bach-choi and Beethovenius.

Bartholowmeusss Caneykhan and Abeleonia.

Chewing on Peppermint Patty.

The Third Planet

on the third night

in the third of thirds.

You have entered the zone.

Doveinosoes flok-th they fetherioussi fluttereth.

A bowl of cherry’s in a field of wheat and Honey-succatahatorium.

Repressed memories of the Great River Raft Race.

Snakes and goatfriends from the third and final place.

That place- OH FIE! That place is dark.

Turnabouteeiez and Triangletappahs.

You’re going to Hell, you fucking blockhead.

Schroeder cuts his dick off and bleeds to death all over his blanket.

Classic Peanuts.

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by Red Focks

It’s black in California.

It’s white in Boston.

It will put you on the floor.

It will kill all your friends.

It needs to end.

A just cause to drop.

Kurt shot.

Then Kurt shot.

We all know Courtney shot a lot.

Got shot.

Hot shot.


In a daze cause I found POT.


It’s harder to find a bag of ganga today;

than a god damn Guatemalan child.

But hey!

(I feel good!)

Screaming bloody Narcan.

The back of a hippie van.

It was the rest of time.

It was the death of time.

It was dope.

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Exhaustion settles in my bones, every waking moment overcome by the sluggish feeling that filters through my body as if it was natural,

Like blood pumping through my veins.

As night comes closer I’m filled with dread,

For my exhaustion sees no end.

I lay awake all night, body slow but mind racing.

How badly I long to hit the mattress and fall asleep for hours on end.

If only life was that simple,

Instead on nights where I can fall asleep,

I wake up with the same sensation rippling under my skin.

Only to continue in its cycle,

My exhaustion never sleeps.

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It’s been two years since my last major episode. I had experienced the entirety of schizophrenic symptoms and now am free of them according to my doctor (aside from hallucinations of lights which are tolerable as they’re entertaining). I don’t notice a difference in myself now compared to when I was sick even though everyone else does. The world just seems like the psychotic world minus profound realizations, core-shaking emotion and telepathy. I once spoke incoherently, but the memory of being incoherent is mistaken in my mind for coherence. I am told I made no sense in psych wards, but the memory I have is that I made complete sense to myself.

-words of a schizophrenic

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I always loved to read your words since I actually met you,

I read them again and again because I love to

And yes I still do

Even when we’re done and I’ve cut connections between us two

I still read them whenever I miss you

Do you ever except me to talk to you?

After all the things that you said and put me through

Your love was toxic and you didn’t realize that too

Were your thoughts always clouded by the arrogance you followed through?

A haughty display is all that everyone could see of you

I saw something else always as I looked into

That’s what kept me getting swayed into everything that we have been through

As I never intended on even being close to you

And still I wonder at times if that is what has been done and pain is all that has accrued

And now I know what it was that I fell for

Those were just your words which were deep, stark and raw

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There’s so much to hate:
The guy who asks if he woke you up,
The one calling out your name
While you’re speaking to someone else.
It’s enough to make you argue with them
While you’re alone, and then you realize
How crazy you are,
How tormented—
For you were asking your cat
In the solitude of your home
If he was comfy on your lap
And still someone butt in.

Peace is in the mind;
It’s how you deal with it.
I work from home,
Got the ideal setup,
But still the pangs of life
Come knocking, draw me from my computer
To ask, “Did I wake you up?”

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My heart is chilled, haunted by the things you will tell the next girl about me, your dead love. Will you tell her about the late night talks? How we burst out laughing when I told you of crazy anecdotes? How you tried to sing a song for me even if you could not seem to hit the high notes? How about the lazy afternoon calls? How we ended cursing the heavens because of the vast distance between us? Will you tell her that? Or you will prefer to leave out all profound details of me, the old girl, now a ghost you no longer need? Tell me. Will you tell her I used to be your ray of sunshine? That I was the one you always run to when troubled and maimed? Will you tell her I fixed you patiently when you’re broken? And that with my bare hands, I tried to repaint the grey sky so you can behold the rainbow? It kills me to imagine you trying to demonize me in her ears as you whisper horrible tales about the woman who gave you her everything. Will you erase all the good memories we ever had so she won’t have a clue as to how our connection transcended physicality because we’re more than lovers urging fate to side with us? We’re soul mates, bounded by an invisible thread. It just pains me that you cut that thread yourself, without preamble. Now I am left with thoughts haunting me even when I am wide awake. Will you tell her I was a nice girl? Or will you make her think of me as the villain? Will you plant seeds of hatred in her mind too just like what you did to me when you talked about the girl before me?

I wish I knew exactly what you will tell her. So I can let go of you as gently as I’ve let you into my heart, trusting that cute smile of yours won’t pierce me in any way.

-Haunted heart,

Katie, 22:00

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show me your scars
not the ones i can see
no show me the ones
that only you yourself have felt
the ones that go beneath your skin
the ones that make you want to give in
show me your scars
show me who you are

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