Peter Pan
Peter Pan
Sep 23, 2013

I saw some one
Who looked like you
The other day
My heart stopped
Wrong place
Wrong time
It wasn't you
And I'm moving on

Bria Prior
Mar 4, 2011

I write in thieves argot
I'm far gone......too deep to resurface
not worth it, go further
into my mind, i'm blind to the time
Life is fleeting, and i am bleeding
needing    to        get        by
  while i get high......
Passing the day,
in a way, that keeps me dragging too slow
with no where to go
stuck in the muck, without any luck
pain struck while i fuck myself
into the ground,
with no sound       to    wake    me
I ramble on, gambling on
unlucky eyes
send in spies to cut ties
with my past, the memories last
carve my name in your heart
we fell apart.............

here        gone              forgotten

Kristina Magnesium
Kristina Magnesium
Jul 31, 2016

a blessing. She can do with love. Sometimes I'd be better off if
she were dead, then I realize that I will have to hold out. But
for how long? She's fat, strange and tatter-worn. How long,
tubular boobs sway & heave, her hairless scalp peels after
summer. How may I break the news that I don't love her
daughter as I need to love her: with humptastic, physical passion?
   Every morning I kissed her God & worshipped ass.
"There's senseless brutality in this world," an angel
observed, "sensible brutality too."
   "Painting nudes is a naked benefit of being a painter," I
reckoned deadly. We can't go on together with suspicious
minds, we just can't!
   Her white legs & white skirt & dark hair reminded me
of actor Oscar Homolka who looked like Leonid Brezhnev.
   Every afternoon I ranked God for a blubber day, paid
my daily taxes & prayed to central government.
   If it's child support you want visit the Child Support Center for Domestic Violence {wife beating}. It's 1 block from the land-fill {dump} & half a mile from the murder {family-planning} clinic. Incidentally: Oscar Homolka has homo in his name.
   My Dad's peculiar behavior caught the attention of neighbors: his late hours, coarse talk, rough demeanor, careless regard for society's polite ways. One day I confronted Mom: "Ma, what's up with Pop? Why's he act the way he do? Please refer to above traits."
   Ma sat defeated. "Son," she began, more womanly than
ever, "your father's life has changed since he got into tugs."
   "My God, I'd rather him strung out on opiates than working
on tug boats!" I vomited, more womanly than mother.
   "Who needs an expensive piano when you can
just bang 2 niggers together?" She asked blackly.
   "How dare you!" I extolled, full of
self-appeasement & wearing size 12's.
   "Get over it," she instructed as was her nature & ability to
bounce back from disease or condition. She had the Lord
in the palm & never back-tracked nor pedaled.
   "Nature hates us," I reasoned, "that's why
you can't sub what you said for pianos."
   "Just watch then!" And sure enough
she played beautifully without a piano.
   "You're right! Isn't nature bountiful?!" I had to say.
   "I'm in charge now," Frank whispered to Henry Wallace, "seeing how Eleanor's homosexualism is becoming less discreet...It's not the heat so much as the humidity. She never used a straw as a child. Her father denied her all manner of vacation-related opportunities. He preferred chick over string beans."
   "A rare case," Hank agreed.
   "This black skin's caused by the polio. It's all I can do to keep my balls uninvolved. Hot dogs are out --- too remindfully painful."
   Hank stared blankly, his legs never more able, as Frank's were nevermore able. He could run & hide behind his big desk & no one'd know for days. But he wasn't a hider, he was an idiot.
   Y luego: "A harbor by any name's still a gash. You can't fight slopes outside Pacifica. Don't tell me that! The Togo I love would never go in for that..." Y mucho luego: "Eleanor's asleep, let's stuff her with pork chops!" My bandy legs are unstepped upon. My Moe Bandy-like features have tortured the mail man enough.

Apr 3, 2015

When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because the world around me is ending in my mind
slowly fading into something without meaning
until I cannot breathe and I have to leave
to go cry in the bathroom.

When I am in my statistics class I cannot focus
because there is a boy there who looks like my favorite porn star
I know what his penis looks like
     or might look like
     Schrödinger's dick in a box.

I cannot help but stare at him and
picture him in gym shorts and no boxers
or cargo pants and no boxers
or just in boxers

It's an uncomfortable feeling of morbid intrigue that
makes me tap my toes too fast.

I want to know him.

I want to tell him that
I love the way he smiles
and laughs and communicate s
and makes sure everyone is safe and happy.

I can only watch porn that has behind-the-scenes features.
It's comforting to know that
everyone is happy and
everything is consensual and
everyone is having fun.
I get too invested in these people, too attached -

One time I had to give up
and take a moment to breath
because I was just so overwhelmed with pride
Like a parent watching their kid graduate after all their hard work.

And that feeling is not okay.

And seeing that boy in my class is not okay,

Because I feel so proud of all he's accomplished
So when he answers a question right in class all I can think about is
When he sucked a dick on camera for the first time
And the first time he licked whipped cream off another man's nipples
And it's very distracting.

When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because I start to worry that I will fail this class
and then I start to worry that I will hate my future
and then I worry about having a future in the first place,
bunching up into an unfocused, panicking, asthmatic mess.

The porn star boy is a distraction.

It's because of him that I'm passing this class.

( and in a way, a stupid, silly way,
it's because of him that I'm alive. )

#anxiety   #help   #college   #porn   #failing   #statistics  
Jeanne Fiedler
Jeanne Fiedler
Jan 28, 2012

My name is Sandy
My twin sister's name is Suzy
We hang out together
Dressed up so cutely

We look so much alike
This is so very true
But there are some things
Only I like to do

She is funny
and laughs so loud
I am the thoughtful
one in the crowd

She likes green
I like blue
She likes the playground
I like it too

We  do look alike
Sometimes you can see
But  there are all the times
When I am just me!

hieronymus jot
hieronymus jot
Jan 26, 2016

fiddle middle blither and blight:
find the most uneventful, little stone you can find and
look into its pale glass till it
              looks back.
                                      wriggle, alight and look alike not,
so that you may
         see things
                        lighter, brighter and
   less locked.

When a white woman is victimized they'll scour the streets, fan out, stop,
harass, detain, arrest any black man. Any one they can finger for the crime.
They say things such as they all look alike or something to that effect.

A black woman is abused they'll look around, see white males everywhere but they cannot find any suspects? None of them fit the description. Why is that? Yeah, that's right, it is because they all look alike! Too many of 'em. Can't arrest everyone now can we? People have rights!

Yep, I suppose they do...

As long as you consider them, "people," -they have rights.

The sad part is..I write these pieces to escape the world but(you) won't let me my comfort was in seeing that no one ever saw/watched-it...yet here you are?

God....has some sense of humor.
Maia Victoria
Maia Victoria
Jul 19, 2013

We match
Look alike
And say the same things.
We write shitty poetry
And love shiny rings.
We have the same thoughts
The same voices,
Same minds,
And it is almost like
We're not one but two of a kind.

So, as some of you know, I semi-recently found out I have all these illegitimate half siblings. Cool, right? Well I was just skyping with one of them and it was seriously sketchy. We were so alike. I don't even know how to describe it. It's crazy!
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