Mother fucker
Sir Seth Scott Elkins

Mother fucker
Mother fucker
Fucking fuck you
Mother fucker
You fucked my mother
You Mother Fucker
I aught to fuck you
You fucking fucker
Dearest fucker
Of my mother
I’m fucking fucked
If you don’t smother
Me with fucks
You fuckity fucker
Fuck your face
You lucky fucker

Jul 17

Take it out on me
So I can give it back
Let me blame you for my bullshit
While you use what I don't lack.

demon bares it's fangs and it rips into my mind.
it seems as though Hell dares exist in me, tonight.
crooked horns, talons and razor sharp red teeth.
tell me what it is that you fucking want with me.
living in my head, you're there, still I shut my eyes
just to see your face, I swear, I'd rather be blind.
feel your claws ripping in me, my sanity you take
my eyes hurt so much the longer I'm awake
paralysis has trapped me, in my shell I cannot move
stuck between consciousness just to stare awake at you.
"chemical imbalance", shout the bullshit in my ear.
"she just has depression" that is why I'm never here.
"you never talk to us", my walls are now closing in
how dare you tell me I'm messed up,
how dare this demon win.

skull that matters, fucker,
Derek Yohn
Derek Yohn
Nov 12, 2013

What you think about other
peoples' hair is a trick by
the establishment to keep you
down.  Not all with long
hair are hippies, not every
skinhead is a Neo-Nazi.
An afro doesn't make you
funky, having soul does.

It isn't what is on the
skull that matters, fucker,
it is what happens

Rowan J
Rowan J
Aug 12

you looked at me
through your depression tinted lenses
and i thought to myself
organs ticking like a croc
'so what?
we all do stupid things at three in the morning.'
and i told you how i felt
last summer
as if it were today.

#lies   #weakness   #fucker  

you made me promise
that i'd never cut.
then why the hell
did you inscribe
your name
your smile
your heart
all over my arms
in thin fragile lines
flowing with blood

you make me want to

dedicated to him
#love   #heartbreak   #sad   #depression   #pain   #sadness   #lost   #hurt   #you   #breakup   #ache  
Amelia Fisher
Amelia Fisher
Jun 25, 2013

as if the bruises of my self conscious's grip weren't enough of a reminder of my
harsh imperfections,
their icy stares and startling bluntness ring a brutality in my eyes that can only be absorbed
by those foolish enough to cross over into the unmapped, untouched.
is is there where I finally feel my lungs expand and my lips moisten from knowing that I am
defined by a flaw or a handful of them, placed intricately along the paper thin lining that means
nothing in the end.
but in an instant you wrangle me back into a place where the spots matter and I don't.

Jun 7

looks like another night alone
a heavy eyed boy moving heavy boxes into your home
“i’ll see you tomorrow, love, when the light is new”
never felt as good as waking up next to you
but the way you crawl into my bed each time you come
well both those heavy eyes and i become undone
and you can blame it on things like running away
online, lost and found, reward, posted today
and wanted posters hanging around town
yeah, you’ve been around town
and i’ve been waiting up for you
but lover, i’ve gotta put you down
drink until that mark on your neck starts to fade
purple never looked good on you anyway

#day   #hey   #donut   #national   #fucker  
then go fuck them all, Fucker,
Anubis the Philosomancer

I wrote this back in July;
I was going to leave it private due to "personal discretion,"
but I feel that allowing it to be openly read will be good.
I've posted and taken down this poem a couple times,
but this time I'mma leave it up for they who are interested.
If physical fucking closeness
equates to you Peace of Mind,
then go fuck them all, Fucker,
and I hope it fucking works.

Though, Fucker, I think you'll find,
there won't be Peace of fucking Mind
unless the person you tend to fuck
is the person you tenderly fucking love;

I know it can be fucking nice
to just be close and fuck,
but even then, a simple Fuck
is never fucking simple.

I respect your fucking right to chose
to fuck without a thought of your fucking "love"
but it is that it was so fucking easy
that makes it hurt so fucking much.

While I'm sorry to be writing this,
I know fucking well I shouldn't be.
It's as if you embarked on the Path of Revenge
without the foresight to first dig two Graves.
I'm not going to fucking dwell and brood;
I'm going to express my fucked-for mood:

While I appreciate your fucked-up honesty,
and don't mean to make you regret it;
you fucking had an opportunity to chose,
and you sure made your fucking choice!

You fucked it up.
You fucked him.
You fucked her.
You said you didn't know why,
but you sure fucking did it anyway.

I forgave you twice, Fucker.
You wanted me mad at you.
Then, you fucked him and
got what you wanted.
Fuck you;
Fuck you two.

Don't you regret it?
If you somehow didn't,
I bet you fucking do now.
You've made your choice,
now live with the consequences.

You've fucking sickened me.
Third time's a charm.
Maybe it's a fucked-up Karma
for how we got together;
"I don't do this kind of thing"-
Bullshit! It's become a trend!

Maybe I should have gone and fucked my ex, too,
the day before our friends' wedding
without even a fucking thought of you, Love.
What a Lover you proved to be!
Congratulations, you fucking sickened me.

You don't have to say you're sorry,
I know you are; if you have a heart.

I respected you.
I trusted you.
You fucking disappoint me;
maybe you're better off this way:

So, I wish you the best of fucking luck
with whomsoever it is you decide to fuck,
but, being hit yet again by that emotional truck,
this time it's yourself who you can go and fuck.

[Stop and Breathe]

I do still fucking love you,
though I don't fucking know why.
That's what makes it hurt so much;
it makes me sort-of want to die.

Fuck this feeling,
and fuck you for leading me to it.

I do still love you,
though I don't fucking know why.
I will try not to hold it against you,
I will try to rise above such a Grudge.
[Stop and Breathe]

Fuck this feeling
and fuck you for making it so real.

I do still love you.
[Stop and Breathe]
You don't have to say sorry.
Just be sorry
for a minute.

You are young.
You have things to experience
and lessons to learn.
You need to be free.
You need time.
Live for now.

I, too, am young,
I have things to experience
and lessons to learn.
I need to be free.
I need time.
Live for now.

We are all young.
We all have things to experience
and lessons to learn.
We all need time.
Live for now.

I'm happy I get to help you, I'm sorry it can hurt.
I truly mean no harm; I seek Catharsis.

Catharsis is a form of Self-Discipline;
to be able to be there for your self;
to not fuck it up for someone else just because you're peeved.
To outlet things constructively,
if sometimes offensively,
in order to further your self
and your self-understanding.

I do still love you,
for what it's still worth.

Maybe after the tides have changed
after the fucking firestorm of pain has subsided,
we can try again to hang out
but, I must say, I wouldn't hold my breath;

May 7, 2013

he told me to fall,
back into him.
but when i tried his face twisted in disgust,
and he told me i was insane.
he told me he'd be gentle,
but he would turn around and grab me by the arm,
and leave bruises,
big purple bruises that i had to explain,
why they were in the shape of a hand print.
he said he cared,
and that i could always trust him,
hold him near,
have his love.
but he must've told that to all the other girls too.

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