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2025-07-05 08:55 pm
Entry tags:

Poetry - Overstimulation

Sounds? Loud.
Lights? Bright.

People are around; it feels like millions.
Words catch in my throat,
buzzing behind my eyes.

I consume every little detail,
Sounds are being processed at supersonic speeds,
Sights are punching my eyes like punching bags.

So many things being processed and slowly being backed up like an old computer.

Overstimulation..

Am I being overstimulated?

Or, is this just me being dramatic?

I don't know...

Overstimulation can be described in many ways,
how do I describe it..?

 

Consuming.
 

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2024-10-29 09:48 am

Poetry - Bones

My bones ache,
With the slow movement of my legs,
The pain is much,
But it will never be enough,
Blood pours from my veins, 
Into my brain,
Yet I always stay the same.
 
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2024-10-28 10:48 am

Poetry - Hands

 
Hands. —

My hands tend to crack,
And with that snap,
They hold my pencils and pens,
For me to mend the minds of others
My pen is a part of that plan,

But alas,
My art ; my work,
My work ; my passion,
But without these aching hands,
My art wouldn't stand.