th4nkyoub3n - Hello Poetry

You have no right to complain if you tread on my bared soul. Is it my fault if you're pained? You've crushed me with your sole. I don't mind breaking apart Careful handling's a rare feat But I have to break my heart When you crush me with bare feet You leave the kitchen with my remains on the ground. It's my job to sweep the floor clean.

0

Mar 29, 2018

Mar 29, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC

Walking on Eggshells Made Easy

You have no right to complain if you tread on my bared soul. Is it my fault if you're pained? You've crushed me with your sole. I don't mind breaking apart Careful handling's a rare feat But I have to break my heart When you crush me with bare feet You leave the kitchen with my remains on the ground. It's my job to sweep the floor clean.

10

The timid moon obscures itself in shadows of intrigue. Every night you wax, a striptease of your soul. The moon looks over all the stars reflecting the light of an absent sun. The cold night glows with wonder. Though you are smaller than the stars, the twinkles are minuscule in my eyes. If you are the moon, and the moon is made of cheese, then why am I cheesy so squeezy.

0

Mar 10, 2018

Mar 10, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC

I Cannot Map The Night

The timid moon obscures itself in shadows of intrigue. Every night you wax, a striptease of your soul. The moon looks over all the stars reflecting the light of an absent sun. The cold night glows with wonder. Though you are smaller than the stars, the twinkles are minuscule in my eyes. If you are the moon, and the moon is made of cheese, then why am I cheesy so squeezy.

13

I'M SORRY YOU HELPED ME IT DIDN'T HELP I TOLD SOMEONE HOW I FELT I GOT HELP I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP ANYMORE. SHOULDER THE BURDEN OF BEING MY SAVIOR NO LONGER. NO ONE ALONE CAN BE BURDENED WITH THE TASK OF SAVING ME. I'M SORRY. I YELLED AT YOU. I HIT MYSELF IN THE FACE WITH A SPIRAL NOTEBOOK IN ANGER. A SOCIAL FAUX-PAS. YOU DON'T HAVE TO TEACH ME THIS IS WRONG. I ALREADY KNOW. I AM IMPULSIVE, NOT IGNORANT. I ONLY PRETEND TO BE BECAUSE I THINK IT'S FUNNY I LIKE YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE FUNNY I LIKED TEXTING YOU UNTIL YOU SAID I TEXTED AS MUCH AS A LADY LOVER SHOULD HOW CAN I HELP YOU HOW CAN I MAKE YOU BETTER PLEASE LET ME HELP YOU I KNOW YOU ARE SUFFERING I WANT TO MAKE IT RIGHT JUST DON'T TELL ME "Go away" OR "Leave me alone"

0

Dec 15, 2017

Dec 15, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC

UNWRITTEN LETTER

I'M SORRY YOU HELPED ME IT DIDN'T HELP I TOLD SOMEONE HOW I FELT I GOT HELP I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP ANYMORE. SHOULDER THE BURDEN OF BEING MY SAVIOR NO LONGER. NO ONE ALONE CAN BE BURDENED WITH THE TASK OF SAVING ME. I'M SORRY. I YELLED AT YOU. I HIT MYSELF IN THE FACE WITH A SPIRAL NOTEBOOK IN ANGER. A SOCIAL FAUX-PAS. YOU DON'T HAVE TO TEACH ME THIS IS WRONG. I ALREADY KNOW. I AM IMPULSIVE, NOT IGNORANT. I ONLY PRETEND TO BE BECAUSE I THINK IT'S FUNNY I LIKE YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE FUNNY I LIKED TEXTING YOU UNTIL YOU SAID I TEXTED AS MUCH AS A LADY LOVER SHOULD HOW CAN I HELP YOU HOW CAN I MAKE YOU BETTER PLEASE LET ME HELP YOU I KNOW YOU ARE SUFFERING I WANT TO MAKE IT RIGHT JUST DON'T TELL ME "Go away" OR "Leave me alone"

29

the iceberg sperg used to freeze up when hands felt her up and kissing her was like licking a metal pole on a white christmas but when she met the one she burst into flames

0

Dec 15, 2017

Dec 15, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC

frigid

the iceberg sperg used to freeze up when hands felt her up and kissing her was like licking a metal pole on a white christmas but when she met the one she burst into flames

11

His dog was contained in an impenetrable tomb. Twelve hexagonal stepping stones upon A mound of dirt ooo oooo ooo I wanted to pray for her, a dog I never met. I had to repent for the barking noises I made earlier, before I knew. All dogs go to heaven, but all people go to hell. He didn't want to be reminded of her passing so I didn't warn him that I was coming. At least he wasn't home. The alive dog, Rango, was very friendly. He sniffed and licked me, his nose between my legs. If only someone else would find me so fascinating. I noted this out loud. His mother laughed. She was complicit in my intrusion of his son's privacy. A nice boy A sweet boy A quiet boy An anxious boy He preferred the company of a few close friends Friends that weren't me Even though I was delirious, I meant it when I said to this man "If you were like the boy she described, I would have fallen in love."

0

Dec 12, 2017

Dec 12, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC

Rango

His dog was contained in an impenetrable tomb. Twelve hexagonal stepping stones upon A mound of dirt ooo oooo ooo I wanted to pray for her, a dog I never met. I had to repent for the barking noises I made earlier, before I knew. All dogs go to heaven, but all people go to hell. He didn't want to be reminded of her passing so I didn't warn him that I was coming. At least he wasn't home. The alive dog, Rango, was very friendly. He sniffed and licked me, his nose between my legs. If only someone else would find me so fascinating. I noted this out loud. His mother laughed. She was complicit in my intrusion of his son's privacy. A nice boy A sweet boy A quiet boy An anxious boy He preferred the company of a few close friends Friends that weren't me Even though I was delirious, I meant it when I said to this man "If you were like the boy she described, I would have fallen in love."

33

Kathy Ann cut the hair of Mr. Diatribe, recently deceased, and glued his soft golden locks to her pink phone case. Fuzzy, calming, cathartic. The scholars took this as evidence that she truly loved him for all the favoritism for all the joking for all the flirting for all the gentle touches and for all the extra credit he offered her. She raised her phone to the sky and declared “This is my trauma on display, for all the world to see. It changed my life forever. He will never part with me.” Sophia asked her “Wouldn’t you rather move on and build a better society? Imagine a school with free lunches, no homework, no grades, bully-free. Co-operation and learning only.” “I’m still ****** up about it,” said Kathy Ann. “It sounds good but I don’t believe.” “That’s okay. I love you.” “Some day, I will too. Thank you.”

0

Dec 11, 2017

Dec 11, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC

You can’t **** me, I have tenure.

Kathy Ann cut the hair of Mr. Diatribe, recently deceased, and glued his soft golden locks to her pink phone case. Fuzzy, calming, cathartic. The scholars took this as evidence that she truly loved him for all the favoritism for all the joking for all the flirting for all the gentle touches and for all the extra credit he offered her. She raised her phone to the sky and declared “This is my trauma on display, for all the world to see. It changed my life forever. He will never part with me.” Sophia asked her “Wouldn’t you rather move on and build a better society? Imagine a school with free lunches, no homework, no grades, bully-free. Co-operation and learning only.” “I’m still ****** up about it,” said Kathy Ann. “It sounds good but I don’t believe.” “That’s okay. I love you.” “Some day, I will too. Thank you.”

26

Chewing and swallowing is a hassle. I wish it weren't taboo to cut open my stomach and insert the meal through the wound. Nothing would go to waste. Mastication is unsightly. It rots your mind and teeth. It tears and mashes what you love into paste, leaving nothing but bones. At least **** the marrow dry. Would you eat something someone else spat out? You are food too. You are slathered in someone else's slime. I try to slice away the mold that consumes him but the mold is all over. Even a little bit of mold on a treat like him is a sign that it's everywhere, that it's toxic, but I keep carving away, believing there is something that can be salvaged.

0

Dec 11, 2017

Dec 11, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC

Don't Stick Your Fork In Gravy

Chewing and swallowing is a hassle. I wish it weren't taboo to cut open my stomach and insert the meal through the wound. Nothing would go to waste. Mastication is unsightly. It rots your mind and teeth. It tears and mashes what you love into paste, leaving nothing but bones. At least **** the marrow dry. Would you eat something someone else spat out? You are food too. You are slathered in someone else's slime. I try to slice away the mold that consumes him but the mold is all over. Even a little bit of mold on a treat like him is a sign that it's everywhere, that it's toxic, but I keep carving away, believing there is something that can be salvaged.

7