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Thomas Patrick Mar 2021
Hope for more
Than individuality
Amongst the throng
Of arachnids
To be the organism
And know what meaning means

Power and fame
Provide the human ego
With fleeting satisfaction

Love is a connection
Outside ourselves
If real
Not man evolved lust

Energy between us is palpable
Passion amplifies
Yet we are all lonely
And yearning souls
Trapped in a shell of life
iamgone Feb 2021
i am not a shell of a man
in fact
i'm looking for my shell
not having a body
means not feeling anything
and i find myself
missing the cold
Hammad Jan 2021
It's never about How strong the cage is
Or how high the bars are;
I have seen people
Spending lifetime
In their 'own shell'
living in a way to
avoiding the word failure
in your epitaph,
for a foreseeable reward in heaven,
is like walking on eggshells
without ever breaking out of your own shell.
The fear of failure is worse than actual failure. Failure teaches you to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and have another shot.

The context seems rather relevant now with what has happened this year.
Here's to hoping you never give up and find the strength to start again.
Itunu Nov 2020
You
Are like a flame. And I am highly combustible household furniture.

And so you move close to me, and touch me.
And set me on fire.

Slowly,
Then all at once

You multiply and engulf me in your love, in you. All of you.

And we burn
A beautiful hot blaze, wrapped in desire and hunger

And we burn
Illuminating the room, the house, the street.

And we burn, your flames multiply and grow and we are tangled in heat and desperation.

And we ignore the: warning highly flammable sign

And dance till we’ve scorched through the floor,
Leaving burnt out embers

You consume me, all of me.

You search my heart, my soul, my body. A house, room to room

Stealing all my possessions,
All my highly flammable household furniture

And I let you.
I watch your flames dance to me and I feel your heat.

And I let you burn me. Enveloped in the pleasure of your flames I burn.

Hot. Desire. Hot.

Until you’ve burnt through it all.

Left my reflection a wobbling photo of grief.

Exhausted. No more oxygen to eat on.
Just C 0 2.

No more me and you.

And I’m just a shell. A frame.
Filled with burnt furniture

And black.
Burn.
chang Oct 2020
does growing up
ever hurt for you?
because for me,
it did.
i wasn't really quite prepared
for losing my shell
losing that child-like innocence ,
and losing .
but i did.
and i did it unrelentingly.
Then i lost enough to make a sea.

In that sea of everything you lost
you see yourself bobbing
on the waves.
gasping for air.
it doesn't come.
and in the sea of things you've lost,
saltwater will fill your lungs
until the sea becomes you.
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