Anxious Poets Society
Isolation
Nihilism
Loneliness and dread
Why did I stop smoking
When I got too depressed?
Death is inviting until we realize
What it takes.
Sadness
Sorrow
Lies and desperation
The entirety of life is spent
Trekking toward a destination
It will slug you in the gut
Then whisper in your ear
Then it will tell you
What you always needed to hear.
Hunter Thomas is a 24 year old, anxiety-ridden poet from Fort Worth, Texas.
I. Your skin is wet paste sticking to a hospital wristband Under an empty wide gaze that sees nothing. Though I imagine how pretty you must look With your friends at the park, Lying on a picnic table,
blank paper sheets waiting to be filled on the study table, she picked her pen up every ink burst’s her spell word by word, she started weaving kingdom—her utopia. before her eyes, an ethereal scenery
More powerful than a locomotive, able to leap reality in a single bound, it’s a nuclear bomb, it’s a super computer: it’s the age-old strain of virulent addiction. Once in its ravenous and raptor claw