Featured: Solo Birth
Aspie ShutdownMe : Party, yay! Let's hang out with my best friends for the rest of the night.Aspie Shutdown by Jerrekedb
*party goes on for a few hours*
Brain : Ok, that's it. I'm shutting down now.
Me : Wait, what? I can't move, nor can I hear anything... What did you just do to me?
Brain : I was getting way too much sensory input. I shut off those parts so I can recover a bit. It's sad it had to happen this way, but you wouldn't listen.
Me : Listen to what? I didn't notice anything was amiss.
Brain : *sigh* Just wait a minute while I get you back online.
Me : Can't we just go outside? You'll probably recover faster if you don't have to block all that input
Brain : It's too late for that now. You're just going to stand here until I recover.
*a few minutes later*
Me : My friends will get worried about me... Can't you really get my motor system back online so we can go outside?
Wanting MemoriesHe’d been found wearing a new dark-eyed mask and with a co-worker drinking absinthe, the two of them trying to find something more in the afternoon sunset. Another day had gone stale, shriveling and imploding like aged cheese burning in the summer, left to rot and mold like a corpse. And it didn’t help that the day had been served with a typewriter malfunction with a side of physically painful confrontations with his colleague. His sleeves more closely resembled the pelt of an exotic house pet imported from the Fields than the uniform of a dutiful employee. No article of clothing should clash with the almost twice reborn decadence of the city, where skyscrapers were interlocked with bridges melded from glass that appeared as if it had been torn from the sky like silk. The birds that alighted atop their spires looked as if they were thorns to an onyx crown that the city had adorned itself with. But, it couldn’t be helped. His colleague hadn’t let him go home to wWanting Memories by AnUnfoldedPaperTiger
and there it is, shrapneli wish i could stopand there it is, shrapnel by multiverse-and-void
talking about it
letting it out
[like skeletons you find in the closet]
i thought it would be better,
if i could,
once upon a time,
a time where i really couldn't
now i can't stop
maybe if i could hold it inside,
trap it inside,
it would rot and fester
enough for it to be
as dead as you are
but i keep exploding and there it is, shrapnel.
ghosts & ghosts & ghosts;
it's like a trail of corpses, i'm tired of the smell.
but this isn't
i often wish i could be
you're dead but
this still won't leave me be
it never will
nothing ever changes
[even as everything does]
i still write poetry about this
ghosts never stay where they belong,
in the past, six feet under
i wish i could be at peace
please stop haunting me
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