in_fragments

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~��Michelle|����|��1995~ the difference between madness and genius is two degrees.

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  • in_fragments 2d

    The stages of grief are not linear, nor do they ever really end. I've accepted this before and I will accept it again. There's nothing else to do.
    #loss #love #acceptance #life #death #grief #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poem

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    acceptance

    It comes and goes,
    ebbs and flows.
    One day, agonizingly elusive,
    paralyzingly far away.
    The next, a sudden surge
    through veins,
    a warm wave of permission
    to say goodbye and let the world back in.
    To weep no more. A bittersweet scene,
    when the waters of grief recede.
    A restored sense of normalcy...
    It eludes me today. I am a walking
    memorial, waiting wearisomly
    for a surge.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 3d

    Youth (Lolita The Poet)

    Youth.
    Fresh morning dew
    on sunkissed blades
    of summer grass,
    before the treacherous transition
    into wintry and brutal
    adulthood.

    Synonymous with magic
    and adventure, pure curiosity.
    Like the wind, unapologetically free.
    Like the trees, flourishing in green.
    Like the sun, shining indiscriminately.

    But growing up grants you
    frost covered hindsight, windchills
    of circumstance,
    and the seasons begin
    to lose their color,
    giving way to skies of gray
    and hair of the same.
    The innocence
    is lost. It always
    slips away...



    Innocence.
    Fiery, crystalline,
    and shattered from the freeze.
    Suddenly, you're all out of baby teeth,
    and there's no such thing
    as a Tooth Fairy.
    Parents, no longer superheroes,
    but liars, collapsed idols,
    and the falliblity
    of the entire world
    falls on feeble shoulders
    for the first time.

    Loss of innocence.
    Inevitable, of course...


    But some grownups
    crave that purity so badly
    that they steal it,
    out of heart-shaped lockets
    and boxes of toy rockets,
    savagely ripping sinless souls
    right out of their safe little sockets.

    Old men and women
    longing again
    for youth- Childish adults
    who prop up their young ones,
    silence them,
    peer at them like voyeurs.
    Committing soul murder
    without a second thought-
    through delusions of grandeur
    and gratification-
    in hopes of creating
    a million little Lolitas
    that never have
    to grow up
    like they did.


    Children deserve
    to keep their youth preserved
    and grow up when they should.
    How many more
    must lose the opportunity,
    before the jealous adults,
    with their long and grubby pirate fingers,
    swallow their own hands
    and stop stealing it?

    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 1w

    "I found Jesus Christ in my morning toast,
    and heard Satan growl
    through my headphones.
    I walked outside, saw mermaids in the sky,
    and then I took a drive
    and whizzed by a fence
    with a face on it only I could see.
    It was only a fence. Warped and discolored wood.
    It was only sky, only toast, only music...

    But our heads are always exploding with sensation,
    seeking, making meaning.
    Always creating connections
    where there are none.
    Whose face was that, in the fence,
    and why do I feel like I know him?
    What does that say about
    where my mind has been wandering?


    Fellow humans, what faces have you seen
    in your fences?"
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Pareidolia- The tendency to see meaningful images or patterns where none exist.
    #patterns #humans #mind #faces #fences #sky #toast #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poem

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    Pondering Pareidolia.

    Fellow humans,
    what faces have you seen
    in your fences?
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 1w

    "Mind swims in rivers of fantasy,
    submerged in wishful reverie.
    Depression cannot skewer me
    in my fertile paracosm!
    Brain is always creating
    and spitting images at me,
    even after it has shriveled
    from being under
    far too long.
    Even when
    I ask it to cease. It keeps spitting
    at me...



    "How long have I been here?
    It's been hours now. I have work
    to do!!"



    To dream without stopping,
    an escape that's ever-ready,
    I bet that sounds real beautiful
    to you...
    But, God!

    The currents here are so strong,
    and all I want
    is to come up for air.
    The brain drowns itself-
    death by overactive imagination...

    It hurts so bad,
    to have to wake up.
    Reality is just so... damn...
    disappointing...
    a nightmare of its own...
    And so... sometimes...
    I let myself sink....."
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Maladaptive daydreaming is an addiction and I need to wake up.
    #water #rivers #daydreams #life #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod

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    The Brain Drowns Itself

    The currents here are so strong,
    and all I want
    is to come up for air.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 2w

    Bodies and souls are like crystal;
    beautiful, intense, strong-
    and bound to shatter.
    You do a disservice to yourself
    and everyone you know
    by trying to live in your own smithereens, mess of blood and broken glass, ignoring them to glue other people back together.

    How can you expect to fix anyone else's pieces,
    when you can't first
    pick up your own?
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 2w

    "I dip my pen into my head-
    that haunted house of dread.
    The floorboards creak, the wind whispers
    its secrets to the dead.

    The air is stale and the walls rot;
    this place that time forgot,
    transformed into a house of sin
    for creatures God loves not.

    Slime under everything I feel,
    and grime clings to my heels.
    Yet further in, I venture still
    to find the ghosts concealed.

    I wander through the crooked halls,
    the closets seem to call.
    I open one, and come undone-
    at my feet old bones fall.

    They are my bones- the myriad
    of bodies that I've had,
    decomposing inside myself-
    the stench, it drives me mad!

    I spread them out and rearrange,
    the air begins to change.
    Spirits return to skeletons-
    the me's that I've estranged.

    They scream and shriek. They frighten me
    and follow constantly.
    I sit and listen to their cries,
    meet fear with empathy.

    "The world outside is cruel," they yell.
    "Humans are worms from Hell!
    They used us up, murdered us, spilled
    foulness on our pastels."

    They yell and bawl with all their might,
    lament such heavy plight.
    I take my selves into my hands-
    with them, I cry tonight...

    ☠☠ ☠☠ ☠☠

    The night is done, day awakens.
    I leave the house shaken,
    return to earth still clutching bones,
    the Truths that I've taken.

    I've seen ghosts and communed with them,
    and vowed to talk again.
    They gift me cartilage each time,
    bestow intuition.

    I carry these old bones with nerve,
    their axioms preserved.
    No longer afraid of monsters,
    I'll stare them down with verve."
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Halloween is over but the hauntings aren't.
    #haunted #house #trauma #abuse #scary #ghosts #skeleton #bones #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poem

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    Old Bones

    "at my feet old bones fall.
    They are my bones..."
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 4w

    Halloween Haikus

    Sleeping specters wake,
    shake off their ectoplasm,
    and dance through the night.

    The dead open their caskets,
    eager to explore again.
    Hands reach through topsoil...

    Magic's in the air,
    mystery's in the graveyard,
    mausoleums feast!

    Insidious twists,
    chilling discoveries lurk
    in haunted houses.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 4w

    Happy Spooky Season my Mirakee friends!
    ��‍♂️��‍♀️��‍♂️��‍♀️��‍♀️��‍♀️��‍♂️��‍♂️��
    #fall #halloween #spooky #season #treats #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poem #acrostic

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    Spirit of Samhain


    Hunter's moon hangs low in the sky,
    All vermillion, ominous and imposing. Around me,
    Parades of witches, superheroes, vampires and kings
    Partake in strange and magical things-
    Youths running wild with the ancient spirit of Samhain.

    Hocus pocus takes hold of me
    As I saunter down these mysterious streets, hearing
    Little talks of tricks and sweet treats, and
    Laughter laced with superstition and mischief.
    October is the time when otherworldly barriers open,
    When the dead can reach out and touch us.
    Enriched by the fantasy, this spell cast on me, through this
    Enchanted town I walk, awakened once again for a
    Night of festive and spine-tingling adventure.
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 5w

    "Humanity is a fickle mistress,
    switching standards with crippling quickness.
    Today's perfection is tomorrow's flaw-
    Bodies become products, brains left listless.

    Life is a beauty pageant. We must claw
    our way up to the crown with fingers raw.
    They worship glitz, fame, praise and thanks-
    the swinging pendulum was all I saw.

    Like Poe's prisoner, tied to wooden planks,
    they shackle us the same, slice at our flanks,
    torture us without laying down a hand
    and push the fatal blade down lower ranks.

    It swings and swings, a social joke preplanned,
    until it slashes us so we can't stand,
    or we surrender ourselves to the rats
    and learn to turn our bodies into brands.

    We must keep up, else risk death by this trap,
    or worse, life faced as an exiled outcast.
    Their message of purity is confused,
    yet to survive, we mold ourselves to that.

    Culture raised me. It must be so amused-
    teaching me I exist just to be used.
    It plants the seeds inside our heads, then we
    become victims of our own self abuse.

    Shapliness is next to godliness, see,
    and a self-loving mind's the only fee.
    The pendulum swings heavy with new plight.
    Its ideas of beauty will murder me.

    We are young men and women made of light-
    they cut it out of us to make us right.
    Perfect puppets with deadly diseases,
    we nurse our disorders every dark night.

    Still, we press our hands, pray that it pleases,
    while the mighty panel of judges teases.
    They say our pain will pay off in the end,
    laughing, stealing self-esteem in pieces.

    Back and forth, always a change in trends;
    on the pendulum our culture depends.
    Forever we remain under its rule
    suffering, but our bodies play pretend." ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Inspired in part by The Pit and The Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe.
    Please take care of yourselves, you're all amazing even if society can't see it��
    #rubaiyat #poem #health #beauty #society #eatingdisorderrecovery #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poetry

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    Fickle Mistress

    Torture us
    without laying down
    a hand...
    ©in_fragments

  • in_fragments 7w

    "I rule over my kingdom of dreams
    from an ethereal throne
    of stars and feathers,
    dressed in ravishing robes
    of silk and spangled glitter.
    My mind's eye looks to the sky,
    where my dreams are alive
    with kaleidoscopic bodies, thriving,
    rich feet and ambitious fingers.

    They consume fruits of fantasy
    and imbibe from wells of creation,
    all to sow for me
    lavish visions of flying colors,
    moxie undiscovered, picturesque landscapes and dazzling shows of grandeur.

    They inquire me for guidance,
    and I shepherd them affectionately.
    I hold the reins of sovereignty
    to fortify them and provide light
    for dark days.
    I arrange feasts and festivities to keep their spirits jovial,
    and to ensure that no dream
    is ever starved.
    They sing and dance and laugh every night,
    and my hallowed spirit twirls
    in kind
    until sunrise, when we all sleepily sink
    with the fullest of hearts
    back into our flowerbeds.

    I hold in both hands
    my winsome kingdom of dreams,
    and keep us poised
    in perfect symbiosis
    with an elegant artistry
    that remains steadfast
    through the opaque and puzzling
    mists
    of time."
    ©in_fragments

    ~~~~
    Keep your dreams close. They worship you...
    #dreams #daydreams #hope #queen #kingdom #poem #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod

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    I rule over my kingdom of dreams
    from an ethereal throne
    of stars and feathers...
    ©in_fragments