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finley-pietersen
finley-pietersen
I just caught a glimpse of something in the mirror And I could have sworn I saw a man that gave everything to not giving up But didn't give enough Not down on his luck But a man that was still reeling in his pain when the line got stuck That's tough... Anyway, did you know that astronomers believe that there is a supermassive black hole at the centre of every galaxy in the universe? Including our own. Neat huh?
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Sep 1, 2022
Sep 1, 2022 at 5:44 PM UTC
Just a glimpse
I can keep it all to myself the things you said to me the things you did it's mine forever it's mine alone the things I wish I did the things I wish I said I should have put a bullet in your pretty little head I can keep it all to myself the things I said to you the things I did the things I thought it's mine forever it's mine alone Instagram was a graveyard of memories that came to pass until my ex shared a picture of our son on the backseat of his car with their hands touching whoever "he" is I wonder if he knows all the nasty **** you love to do the ****** up thoughts you keep the thoughts that keep you so very far away from me Now Instagram is a nightmare a collage of everything that makes me sick to breathe it's where my dreams died and reanimated as someone else's and that's ok because in a way they are still mine forever his and mine alone If we ever touched again that would be our very own cosmic Hiroshima **** up I wonder how many souls we'd stamp out? I wonder how many dreams would die? mine are at the forefront of my mind the dreams I had of us together as the happiest three man band the world has never seen
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Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 8:48 AM UTC
It's Beautiful because it's Dead
I Stanislavski my way through life I am and I am not a piece of ***** I put myself in situations scenarios racing through my head and try to imagine exactly what it would feel like to be dead Experiencing my inner theatrical sense of self dynamism; the activeness of an energetic personality how sad to know that this is not nor will it ever be my faculty "Hi my names Suzan, I work at Applebee's."
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 1:27 PM UTC
Dynamism
She was transparent, blunt and beautiful. what she lacked in grace, she made up for in good times. I remember the face she would make when she laughed at my stupid jokes. her eyes would squint and her mouth would shrink right before it widened stretching from corner to corner showing her lovely white teeth. She wore a dark red shade of lipstick, loved my writing, the poetry and songs. I miss her pinot grigio kisses and her nicotine scent. She left me at Heathrow airport and on her way she went. She was going to be an actress and I was going to be whatever I was going to be. She saw the best and the worst in men. I wonder though, what she ever saw in me.
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 1:18 PM UTC
E.G
It's 7:27am and I still haven't slept it's probably for the best even when I sleep I get no rest I wake up in sweat and out of breath if sleep was really the cousin of death I'd be inclined to get more of it wakefulness is stress but sleep sleep is something else sleep is torture for the depressed sleep is something you tell yourself you need when your world comes crashing down when you see no need to get dressed sleep is what you fall in to when there's no more stimulation no more coffee, no more elation something you do post ****** usually from ************ if you could see my dreams you'd think of Stephen King's The Shawshank Redemption except without redemption just the seeping hateful retention
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Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 2:51 AM UTC
Sleep
It's 7:17am and I haven't slept I've been playing chess and watching videos about people probably perceived as less fortunate one man had a condition from birth that left him without cheek bones and his parents rejected him after 36 hours in the hospital when he was growing up he worried "I thought I'd never be intimate with anyone." he explained and went on to mention that he hated being stared at he recalled his first love her name was Beth she wore skinny jeans and liked the same music and eventually left I felt the pain he felt at reading his adoption notes how his parents were horrified by his appearance and felt no maternal or paternal connection to him when he was just a little bundle of love I almost shed a tear myself when he told of the time he wrote to his parents then in his 20's he felt it was time they replied with a letter that said they did not want to hear from him and that any future attempts to make contact will be ignored entirely
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Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 2:49 AM UTC
Jono Lancaster
So you're happy now with another man at home with our son I will always be his dad you told me and I thank you Just so you know I never stopped loving you I never stopped being **** but I never stopped loving you when your skin is liquid and your teeth rattle in your skull I will still love you When the earthworms use your eye sockets as tunnels and when all men have either forgotten or are too scared to speak your name I will still love you you deserve to be happy and you are right to move on if you feel as though your dreams with me are truly dead and gone just know that I still love you love the father of your son
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Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Father
there are good souls in this world shrouded in weathered skin dry and cracked with scowls hung upon their face balancing on the scars of their brow just as there are bad souls in this world hiding under plush skin their faces adorned with kind eyes and cherry red lips made for kissing or spitting with rage picture a gorgeous brunette with fair skin, bold eyebrows and her hair in a subtle yet nineteen-thirties style updo wearing a red chiffon summer dress the sun beats down on her as she glistens with light perspiration espresso in-hand cigarette in the other her pale soft skin no match for the thirty degree heat outside of this café she nonchalantly finds herself she is the epitome of carefree beauty she kicked her lovers dog outside this morning exiling him to a six hour long toilet break after she "forgot" she had let him out before leaving to go shopping whilst her feller finished his shift because the dog is old and smelly and gets almost as much attention as her she even saw his pensioner neighbour struggling to take the bins out as she walked to her car and laughed rather than help because she always thought Mary was a no good Jew she even called her Mrs. Goldstein "Have a nice day Mrs. Goldstein." but Mary's surname is Cohen picture this beautiful girl a siren leading good men astray she can get any man she wants and plucks only the finest most succulent I mean successful and well put together men from gardens of bachelors maturing in the hardships of city life she has plenty choice but she's fickle you see, her man has to be almost perfect for it to be as enjoyable as possible to watch his life unravel and unfold into everything he wanted it not to be achievable only through toxic beauty her joy is venom soaked insides of lovers caught in a sultry web of lies, ambition and *** she loves a scandal or a text sent to the wrong person and she has everything to hide but does nothing to do so she gets by just fine being beautiful and sickening and sickeningly beautiful you know the sort she is a bad, bad girl
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Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Good Souls and Bad Girls
there are good souls in this world shrouded in weathered skin dry and cracked with scowls hung upon their face balancing on the scars of their brow just as there are bad souls in this world hiding under plush skin their faces adorned with kind eyes and cherry red lips made for kissing or spitting with rage picture a gorgeous brunette with fair skin, bold eyebrows and her hair in a subtle yet nineteen-thirties style updo wearing a red chiffon summer dress the sun beats down on her as she glistens with light perspiration espresso in-hand cigarette in the other her pale soft skin no match for the thirty degree heat outside of this café she nonchalantly finds herself she is the epitome of carefree beauty she kicked her lovers dog outside this morning exiling him to a six hour long toilet break after she "forgot" she had let him out before leaving to go shopping whilst her feller finished his shift because the dog is old and smelly and gets almost as much attention as her she even saw his pensioner neighbour struggling to take the bins out as she walked to her car and laughed rather than help because she always thought Mary was a no good Jew she even called her Mrs. Goldstein "Have a nice day Mrs. Goldstein." but Mary's surname is Cohen picture this beautiful girl a siren leading good men astray she can get any man she wants and plucks only the finest most succulent I mean successful and well put together men from gardens of bachelors maturing in the hardships of city life she has plenty choice but she's fickle you see, her man has to be almost perfect for it to be as enjoyable as possible to watch his life unravel and unfold into everything he wanted it not to be achievable only through toxic beauty her joy is venom soaked insides of lovers caught in a sultry web of lies, ambition and *** she loves a scandal or a text sent to the wrong person and she has everything to hide but does nothing to do so she gets by just fine being beautiful and sickening and sickeningly beautiful you know the sort she is a bad, bad girl
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I wanted to write a poem about the incessant discomfort I always feel in my left eye whenever my contact lenses become old and dry I thought about how it tickles but scratches at the same time and starts off alright just a minor annoyance but quickly, overtime becomes almost unbearable like my pre-school bully himself is folding down one of my eyelashes just enough for it to poke me at the slightest movement then I thought about how I'd sooner write a poem about my life and how it started out equally alright and quickly, overtime became almost unbearable as if my pre-school bully didn't do it right so I found him in his adult life many years later wife, two kids and a mortgage yappy staffy-cross, two cars and an alright job as a graphic designer his garden full of gorgeous flowerbeds, a full head of hair and a fading right hook "MAKE ME FEEL **** LIKE YOU DID THEN." a puzzled look on his face, garden hose flooding his drive and the yappy staffy-cross still yapping away at the living room window "I'M DEAD SERIOUS ANDREW, NOTHING HURTS LIKE IT USED TO." so he called the police and I never got to feel young again unless you count scurrying away from a council estate under the threat of a poor meal at Parkside police station the rekindling of my youth so this is my infomercial poem about how not to confront someone always be fully clothed that's very important avoid being drunk any mind altering substance is best avoided in my opinion remember just because you care just because you remember does not mean anyone else does oh and don't eyeball craft beer when you still have your contacts in you know what? -just don't eyeball craft beer
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Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
Too Good at Scaring Neighbours
I wanted to write a poem about the incessant discomfort I always feel in my left eye whenever my contact lenses become old and dry I thought about how it tickles but scratches at the same time and starts off alright just a minor annoyance but quickly, overtime becomes almost unbearable like my pre-school bully himself is folding down one of my eyelashes just enough for it to poke me at the slightest movement then I thought about how I'd sooner write a poem about my life and how it started out equally alright and quickly, overtime became almost unbearable as if my pre-school bully didn't do it right so I found him in his adult life many years later wife, two kids and a mortgage yappy staffy-cross, two cars and an alright job as a graphic designer his garden full of gorgeous flowerbeds, a full head of hair and a fading right hook "MAKE ME FEEL **** LIKE YOU DID THEN." a puzzled look on his face, garden hose flooding his drive and the yappy staffy-cross still yapping away at the living room window "I'M DEAD SERIOUS ANDREW, NOTHING HURTS LIKE IT USED TO." so he called the police and I never got to feel young again unless you count scurrying away from a council estate under the threat of a poor meal at Parkside police station the rekindling of my youth so this is my infomercial poem about how not to confront someone always be fully clothed that's very important avoid being drunk any mind altering substance is best avoided in my opinion remember just because you care just because you remember does not mean anyone else does oh and don't eyeball craft beer when you still have your contacts in you know what? -just don't eyeball craft beer
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54
"don't come inside" usually, in fact, almost always I would pull out with a split second to spare and ******* all over her turning her navel in to some sort of overflow cum-gutter proceed to roll over panting like an old dog in the sun roll a cigarette whilst she wipes us both down with some nearby toilet roll and suggest we watch something on her laptop this time was different though I pulled out and she lays there and starts tugging me off entirely unnecessarily as though both of our lives depended on it and I'm glad she did I started spraying hot **** everywhere and I think to myself "I'm painting the ******* walls!" it was nothing short of sensational
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Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 2:46 PM UTC
Old Dog