Young and in love,
she was everything I
wanted and more. We
even had matching tattoos
to prove it.
Her parents
thought our love written
in permanent ink
was a serious issue, but
little did I know this
ink would turn into nothing more than scar tissue. Seeing
a wild night turn bad, we
wish she would have turned
away and ran.
But this is where it all began.
Engaged on a Friday night,
her friends wanted to
do something special for her bachelorette
party.
They leave for Italy, and
I'm overwhelmed with fear,
but her best friend puts me at ease, for I know her intentions are
innocent and sincere.
At a bar, everybody is soaking
in the joy, laughing, and having a good time.
But when sweaty Latino dudes climb into the picture, everyone
starts to separate. She's got a bad feeling about this.
The dude next to her
is getting a little touchy
feely, and she can sense
trouble, on account he will not
get out of her personal bubble.
He offers her drinks, and
she thinks...
"Why not? It's harmless, right?"
Little does she know that the
dude buying her this drink is
totally insane, and when
she passes out, he's going to
take her home
and run a train.
8 Latinos, 4 blacks,
and two whites each
have their five minutes.
Naked and battered,
she now lies
helplessly shattered.
She may have survived,
but during that night
a piece of her had died.
Not wanting to be touched, and not wanting to be seen, she can't stand the sight of her being a recluse.
So she takes a bottle of pills
and is found hanging from
a noose.
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
FLATLINE..........
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 3:08 PM UTC
Painting a black
rainbow underneath
a falling sky, it's mist
consumes and eradicates
your last breath, your
last hope.
They pour the drink
you are forced to drink,
and feed the flesh you
are forced to eat.
Taught to be stupid, and
raised to be nothing,
what's left to do, except
make a noise so loud, fame
will hear you.
Your dreams will tell you what to do.
bang
bang
Congratulations
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
A young man sits in deep
contemplation, plotting to
escape her clutches.
She beckoned, and he
couldn't refrain.
Now he's entrapped, serving
his dark lorde. Not as glamorious
and not as it has promised.
What used to be his
refuge is now the leach,
draining him dry.
He came as the archer,
now he's leaving an empty
shell, void of any emotion
and sentaion.
starting as pain,
turning into pleasure,
leaving him....
Beaten
Broken
Shattered
Numb
The breast that once
nourished, is now the ***
tantalizing cracked lips, and burning
ones throat. Over and over until
one has drinken into obvlivion.
Though he is forever in her debt,
his heart and soul still show promise.
What has been devoured has not yet
been killed.
Hand in hand, she turns to
see his eyes veer.
The darkness may have striked,
but of the countless it has
consumed, the odds of him
prevailing fair pretty well.
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
All the great minds I
have come to
know are now consumed
by the unoriginal.
I choose not to look, for
the looks on their dying
faces seem very
pitiful.
Pen in hand, I work
endlessly, knowing
these words will
carry me out of the
middle world, a place
where I have failed
the people who
see through me.
I'm sorry, but a working
class hero is not something
I wish to be.
My friends think it's
unacceptable, but here I sit,
telling you that dying is
inevitable.
It's these words
that carry me to a
place that's magical,
where all my thoughts,
ideas,
and innovations
are not deemed
impractical.
No money, no fame, and no
security, this is who
I truly am, naked to the
very core. All the
possibilities projected
on me seem like nothing,
but a bore.
Pen being my
only weapon, my imagination
runs wild and free, for it is
the only way I can make people
see.
I pour this drink, in
hopes I can cope and mend,
while the people laugh at
the ideas they can't
seem to comprehend.
Continuing to double
check these answers,
thinking on whether
I should be consumed
by all the hate, while I
contemplate my fate,
and self medicate.
In a reality where
I can't unwind, I
attempt to break free,
trying not to look back
at the family I have
left behind.
These endorphins
continue flowing, and there
are no signs of me slowing,
in a drunken haze, where
I choose not to reminisce
the cost, but rather, I
pour this drink, and
cheers to all
the friends
I have lost.
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 12:20 AM UTC
We're born,
we live, we
die.
Upon arrival,
they give us
numbers, and
inject the
system into
our veins.
We're given
a name and told
what is wrong
and what is right,
how to act, and how
to live
We remain in their
ideological
prison, without
asking ourselves..
Why?
We're not safe. They will always turn a blind eye to our loud cry.
Conditioned to produce in
a capitalistic world. It's about time we rise up and revolt or fema camps will be our end result.
programmed to follow
the rules and smile
when our eyes look
sad, let's mount up and
rock big brothers
Iron clad.
We built this country
with our bare hands, but they
took what was ours and
made it theirs. Now we're
under their demands.
Don't be
another sheep
in the herd,
let your mind
be heard.
We don't
have two eyes.
There's
such thing
as a third.
We're not just
some number.
One day we'll
rise up and you'll
feel the wrath of
our thunder.
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC
Each session was
an hour and a half
of pain.
Little did I know the true
hurt would still remain.
What I perceived as thoughtful
and deep turned out to be
my worst enemy who even
watches me sleep.
In my dreams I'm able to stray,
but when I awake I know you
are here to stay.
I will cut, claw, and scrape as
I may. But all efforts are to
no avail for you will never
be kept at bay.
Sitting in regret is not
time well spent, there's
nothing more I can do,
so I shall repent.
There will come a time where
I will no longer be your slave.
Soon you'll just be three layers
of ink that will diminish in my grave.
No longer will I be consumed with sorrow
because where I go I know you will never follow.
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 11:44 PM UTC
Hand in hand the skies
Were blue. There was a lot
between me and you.
But now the skies have turned
to crimson red that spills from
my wrist when I fall into this bed.
You were the one who taught me
How to feel. Now that you're gone,
I'm my worst enemy who I want
to ****
Nowhere to go and no place
to hide, some place far
away is where I choose
to reside.
Living like a square is
no longer my taste.
I drive away with this glock
strapped to my waist.
People can say what they
want to say. Their opinions
are not valid and are kept far away.
As the people you love look at me with
such disdain, I continue
to fill with all this pain.
A pain that cuts to my very core,
whats left of my heart is now an open
Sore.
No reassurance from the stars for
they are all fading. My death is what I'm now contemplating.
The end is easier to
Embrace as I pour this glass and self medicate while my angel's have
lost their grip and are about ready to vacate.
Before they retreat to the sky, I surrender and let them hear my cry.
HELP
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
All my life I've
tried to fit in,
and felt that
being an outcast
was a total sin.
But as I've grown
wiser, I've realized
that fitting in is
what I fear the most.
I'd rather be a
caged freak at a
traveling circus,
than another sheep in
the herd, trapped in a
world of hate, a
place where the word
"love" is brandished
about, and where people
thrive off of problems,
not solutions.
With each passing note,
my true essence will pour
onto the floor, like
a wounded bird that
won't stop bleeding, while the
audience listens to the
sound of my very own soul
quietly fleeting.
Urging we, the people,
to show our true colors
not with shame, or fear,
but with pride
and honor.
Don't feed me another
line. Give me back what-
's rightfully mine, so
I shall put it on display
for the world to see
the true me.
Knowing art to be
my only religion,
and God as my
only creator,
I no longer
feel sinful
and regretful,
for I know
that he has
made me to be
colorful
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC
No longer will I hang from a string I now seek refuge under my angels wing
I am less filled with self hatred
my youthful spirit has been
liberated
I ignore what they project onto me.I do not have two eyes. I have three
Don't care what people say
It's better to die young than
slowly fade away.
Been hospitalized four times, but I'm still spilling these rhymes.
No need to re-write my history,
my strength will shine through
and you'll see my adversity.
Though I wasn't dealt the best hand,
prosperity and growth is what
I still demand.
I look within, and see that I'm
in harmony with the universe,
for I have fought long and hard to
reverse this curse.
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC