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I like my *******.
I like it quite a lot.
It says more by itself,
Than I can say I've got.

It rubs my eyes,
Showing that I'm tired,
And if I'm annoyed,
"*******, I'm wired."

It says "I don't really care."
Or "You're being a ****."
It takes care of it all,
Before I can get sick.

It's quite a nice thing,
Almost says who I am,
Though there's still much more,
It nicely filters the spam.
Fey Torres Nov 2014
My heart is alone
Not lonely
My hands on my lap feel lonely
Not empty
My lips seem dry
Not thirsty
My soul waits patiently
but it won't forever
The girl inside me knows better
She comes in to take her place
Enters pure and strong
In the tiny tunnels she quickly begins to transform
This useless, ****** up being into an astounding piece of art
and the girl outdoors slowly transforms
Her soul will no longer be patient
Your love was not love
The hurt had her aching
She's gone she's vanished
She's became sovereign of her Universe
Fey Torres Oct 2014
How do you sleep at night ?
that's if you make time for sleep,
Do you ever stay up thinking about me ?

Hey dad, its me
number 13
Your baby girl but not your last baby indeed

Hey dad, I'm about to be 17
Would you recognize me ?
Ill take the birthday wishes now since I know your schedules not clean

Hey dad, you're getting old man
always thought you had it but instead you've lost the chance
the chance to raise an infant into the beautiful piece I now am

I will admit, I would have never been this strong if you wouldn't have left so I thank you for the hard strong women you've planted and spread,

Hey dad, just know I'll still be your friend
I'm sorry your funeral I will not attend
but your soul won't take too much more time to say amends
this poem is for you, rest in peace my poor old man
Who knows if I'll ever know when he goes..
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