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porsche89's profile

porsche89 avatar
AGE: 20
LOC: Marlton, NJ
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: November 04

I’m on a path of self-discovery and I write to understand the things I find. I enjoy books, coffee, painting & art, fashion, laughing, road trips, late nights, early mornings, music & more music, strange films, anything French and, of course, writing. I am quiet. I am an observer.

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Poetry / Rubbish
Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
This incubus siphons my life blood. Paralyzation creeps from my heart to my fingers, toes, brain. My lungs struggle, my heart wavers. Skin turns cold and clammy and grey as the sky before the storm. I am not his. Old fears return. Deceit runs deep. What must I do, to keep you? The devil is not longer reticent. To her, my life is risible. Sacrificial. Extinguishable. You don’t belong here, she says. You don’t belong anywhere, they say. I announce that to lie is a sin! You are my an...
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Poetry / The Art of Dying
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
This depression rapes my mind, disembowels my spirit. My sunken eyes are sepulchural graves. Visions like serpents rise from the deaths. They writhe and entwine, And their slimy snake babies Slither along my optics, and Insinuate my brain. They hiss their recitations Then ceremoniously plunge their fangs in the Spongy tissue, Like hypodermics Into a felon’s hardened flesh, Syringes pushing lethality. They envenom my cognition, and Implant their demonic convictions, Then desiccate and tu...
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Poetry / Insomnia
Version 2
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The rain pops on this shell and blends into a sea of its own. It is deafening, and I can't turn off the static in my ears. This sous-marine has cracked and it drips, then flows, and pours. The mirrors are draped and I gather myself, but Death's Imposter doesn't show. I am exhumed from my damp quarters and gasp at the floodgates, which has turned this dry promise into a fraud.
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Poetry / untitled
Version 2
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As I sit on this Dolphin, A Rosey Musk Does a waltz with my nose. I see the bourbon scraps of the summer, And everything is folded into a Thin White Cocoon. Water heats on the porta-stove, milk chocolate powder Waiting to be Entire, And engulfed. The sting waits to be had. After, the world becomes a blur and an explosion of Dopamine is felt throughout my Being. It is followed by a delicious wave of cocoa and I feel the better burn in my stomach. Soon, it all becomes One. The Lights Dim. ...
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Poetry / Insomnia
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
The rain pops on this shell and blends into a sea of its own. It is deafening, and I can't turn off the static in my ears. This sous-marine has cracked and it drips, then flows, and pours. The mirrors are draped and I gather myself, but Death's Imposter doesn't show. I am exhumed from my damp quarters and gasp at the floodgates, which has turned this dry promise into a joke.
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Reviews
Flash Fiction / 4Beers
I found this prose pretty hilarious, although I'm not sure what an O-ring is. Perhaps I should just Google it. Anyways, I love the slight alliteration with "touching tit." Plus, it's just an awkward and different way of saying 'fondling' and I love it. It's great how you're so lax and casual through this whole encounter. It seems as if you're just doing this to pass the time and to not hurt the boy's feelings too too much. One thing I don't really understand: 'I'm playing Mario Kart on the ba...
Poetry / Swallow the Sun
Honestly, I don't understand this poem at all. I sense underlying talent, but unless you were going for something nonsensical, this is a bit too cryptic. I read your note and get the feeling that this poem isn't really supposed to make sense, and if that's the case I think you should choose one or two of the things you mentioned in the piece and go with them. Write nonsense about specific things, not just random stuff. I do believe this has some promise, though.
Poetry / what the fuck
I like this. It's great how it simplifies your thoughts and actions, but still says so much while at the same time being mysterious. It makes me wonder what, exactly, you are going through. Some thing are a bit confusing, however. First, I don't see a pattern in your capitalization. It seems like words are randomly lowercase or uppercase. Capitalization is a powerful tool and I think it would be especially great in this piece. Perhaps consider changing capitalizations to make a stronger state...
Poetry / Ripped Jeans.
This poem has a lot of potential. You're great at setting the mood and invoking emotion. The poem doesn't seem to go anywhere, though. I read your note and realize that this is a prologue, but I still feel there should be a bit of a stronger finality to it. I'm sure it would all make more sense if I read "Knife," I tried getting to your profile to read it but I couldn't figure out how to get there from here so please keep that in mind while reading my critique. I did see a few technical error...
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