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moris
unlubbable
hermit ***** crawl from their exoskeleton and find new homes as they grow they shed and leave everything behind to the currents of time to wash past away they search for newness with no direction this was you when you left me you grew out your hair and bought more rings you when to a pharmacy of internet culture and hijacked the life which did not belong to you something to comfort your lack of love something to cling to so you could say that youre wild and free instead of broken and crippled from the death of this all im a shell not empty because of you but now a house with no deed another animal adjusting to the mania of love there is no deposit there is no tax there is only myself, there is only my chaos and when someone else tells me im their bomb shelter i hope they take time to understand that dynomite is in the freezer and i would like him to know better than my past self to stay and dont open that door
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Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
an explosion on the southwest
i am not a bone chandelier i finally told myself that this body doesnt need to be punished by my mind and how much i hurt you and how much i gave up to you i am not a sack of sweetness, stuff-fucked with carbon i am not the hose in the back window i am not every horrible way i wanted to forget what it really meant to be loved by you when you found out i was a writer (or whatever i call this) you told me i have to know the rules to break them you did not know anything about me and i knew then, that if our love was anything like a true poem it was going to end up like the hole i put through the wall two months ago. i dont need to know the rules of love to break them.
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Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 3:11 AM UTC
silk knot
instead i sleep with people i dont know and i sip on a beverage with a bite and it has all come back to bite me in my *** my friend showed me a mates of state album (and im not partial to their music) but a picture ofa tombstone and arrows clouded my distaste it read: 'beware and be grateful' now, despair of my brave ***** is at rest feeling is nothing more than a touch investments of emotion are not worthy of a second and in a full minute i dont think of any of you at all i remember walking central park alone and desperate nothing i remember crying in my car lost on sunset nothing again i remember trying to keep my sanity when i walked into the room to see you and her nothing now the words you spoke "i get misplaced during winter, but i know what i want" and no none of you did much to comfort me nothing forever or make me happy zero zip zilch so thats where i am now with a stranger next to me remembering those nothings and a glass full of ice and a smiling and free bird and the wild turkey repeats the line 'beware and be grateful' i listen, finally.
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Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
i dont write poetry anymore
in the night that shadows my gloom encouraged by whiskey, cigarettes and the seeking of an empty room. ****** me, give me no promise of tomorrow. hurt me, use me, tell me something untrue. hit me, choke me, pull back my hair unwind my body untie my mind from there. cry for me, bite my lip grind me from the side trace my hip tell me im **** then tell me im wrong this fragile notions ive foreseen for so long times will change and time will pass now, its time for me to get over what couldnt last i know you look at me and see her aching stare but this is the night you needed me and i finally didnt care.
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Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
carnivore
a handfull of pills a needle to the arm that cuts like the sound of your voice. oh give me the drugs and save me from the harm that days bring give me the dream give me the euphoria so i can run after something that seems tangible give me the darkness the ruin and the excuse for you to hear that i am no longer the person that used to be. give me a reason to get the **** out of my bed at dawn.
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Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
give me the drug
selfish is as selfish does i make my attempts to refuse cowardice and mine for the gold in your heart and ive delivered acceptence and determination on the wings of carrier pigeons you broke my ring and you stick out your tongue bitter little ***** i asked you to be kind kind of kind due to fragility i know im damaged goods and all damaged goods are a burden and i am a beast and i am a god and i am unlubbable and tonight im knocking on wood because you wont even say hello anymore. dont fret, disinterest is not individual folly but shared in the space where we used to lay.
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 11:37 PM UTC
to my most recent lover (ringing rejection)
i will carry your body from the flicker i will lose my eye four houndred and fifty seven times before i jab back. all this makes a sister look weak, but this is what i know of patience and loyalty. and we will stare into the souls we drain everyday and drown in the woes of alcoholism and suffocate in the smoke and go bankrupt from the weekend rut. and i am happy that i know i could be doing this alone but alas i have a twinsoul a twinflame. for vinagar girls, full of *** and vice and all horrible things, somehow we manage to hold more value in each other in people and parents and newcomers than any one any where can relate. my partner in crime, my fellow feline, i will follow you into the flame and drag you back out.
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
to my best friend
youre snoring awfully loud so thanks for interrupting those nightly resurrections. really. if whiskey can't cure me im not sure what will.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 5:37 AM UTC
poem im writing from a strangers bed
reteaching myself artithmatic variables and integers and invisible numbers no longer the wallet or the will to return to university instead resilient effort of comprehending without hand and now I can feel the ethic in the space resting between the cap of my pen and my curling lip. feeding on knowledge sustiaining dissatisfied soul. maybe, im just fuckin' tired of being an artist.
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:26 AM UTC
drop out, be an artist
was filled with love but mostly filled with heartache because it is more interesting and they all loved you and i slowly hated as the plot went on and the more it sold the better i felt because there was a twist where i never got you back and it was more climactic when i didn't want you back and i survived and moved on and made something i once loved into literature and i am not an author for this but an architect
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Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 8:06 PM UTC
a ****** poem about the best seller i never wrote