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Apr 2017 · 310
Cheeklord
Snotty VX Apr 2017
Roll around in a field of dandelions and **** on everything she loves, I wish for the sky to consume thou, up my eyes, nose, and waist
Swallow fur
Swallow fur
Swallow fur
The scents of Fritos
Melanin and lead paint
Apr 2017 · 175
Who
Snotty VX Apr 2017
Who
desu desu desu desu
I'm here wearing a white suit, to shove socks in my ears
Stuff me in a dark box away from ******* everyone and let me cry like a helpless child stuck in the snow on December
Dark fantasies of computer hacks in a *****'s cellular phone,
that Christ exposed
that virgins read black and blue
Who loves sniffing tall men's necks and blabbering about every line of thought in what she calls a brain

burn Brittany Hunt, a ****
Whose who
Apr 2017 · 176
An Ode??
Snotty VX Apr 2017
You're a pumice stone, she's a pile of gray soil.
You only wanted all of us to be okay
For everything to be okay
She wanted us dead.
Yet she calls you a friend.
You look at her as only as a pencil drawing,
just not as *****.
Not enough do.
She's nothing.
She's got a face full of makeup, a mouth layered with fat, and a mind full of ****.

But you're better than that
You don't deserve her
You're better than her.
Apr 2017 · 270
Wendy's
Snotty VX Apr 2017
Noise made me do it
Apr 2017 · 588
Nimbostratus Sunday
Snotty VX Apr 2017
Foggy weather blues
Allergies cause me to sneeze
Dead leaves and damp grass
Apr 2017 · 513
They Make Small Talk
Snotty VX Apr 2017
Passing cars of noise,
The onlookers, judging me,
My headache, myself.
A senryu poem I made for class that I still kinda like
Snotty VX Apr 2017
That I **** up at too many things I try to help,
that I make problems worse than they already are,
I procrastinate on work,
just to spend my evening crying and *******,
When I can do things, it's of mediocre quality
I can only handle things "barely enough".
Dear anyone that tolerates me,
I'm sorry.
Mar 2017 · 863
Wifey No Lovey
Snotty VX Mar 2017
My roadkilled cat friend occassionally comes back to me in my sleep complaining about being sick after ingesting gasoline from the guts of the car that beheaded him. You ain't seen **** until you've waded through a marsh of blood in escape of the suburb that just blew up 11 miles away from the woods THEY kidnapped you in, New Orleans Jazz songs on repeat during the storm drain drug deal. Don't forget throwing up all over that expensive platter of rotting meat, while getting bent over and ****** in both your holes by some tall intersex sociopath. Maybe I shouldn't have let those harpies follow me through the maze, all the way home. I'm a waste of human flesh.
Mar 2017 · 582
The Alarms Disagree
Snotty VX Mar 2017
We all know the cracks between them are temporary, from downing a handful of happy-candy and flowers with a swig of chamomile tea, how only closing their eyes softly and the paralyzation of their body, pulling them and their body down the rings of Saturn can aliviate the scent of their own fear fighting WW2 in their veins, and the sound of humming from the television with a shattered screen... or what we call the voices of people in a large, congested crowd.
Feb 2017 · 374
3315-3691
Snotty VX Feb 2017
His face drained with charcoal honey and his bones withered to dust and ash.
Flowing into the lightless black pit of her ruptured lungs
The last of her filling up with swamp water, the angry bees humming in her head.
They've come to tow the bodies,
Toss skipping stones into the emptiness beneath them.
They pulled their hoods off. The raging sand storms greeted their faces as the cloth fell behind their greasy hairs.
They waited.
Jan 2017 · 322
February
Snotty VX Jan 2017
I'm here to sit and burn the flowers to inhale their haze and pretend that my head never falls off with every word I try to speak, loud and verbal. Loud and verbal. In the crowds, in the crying ******. The astral plane fades, the food is digested, and the music turns static. Coping involves denying all and reminding thyself it'll all be over soon. Maybe just for me, maybe, if we're lucky, for them. Maybe just for me.
Jan 2017 · 458
Wait it out
Snotty VX Jan 2017
There are people to miss, we've seen so much.
It's all behind us now.
Everything. A memory.
A branding of chemicals in our cerebrum.
Every millisecond of our so-called existence.
Every heart beat.
It's but a principal of physics.
Maybe nothing more than that?
No?
It's all just it our heads.
We're all just in our heads.
Our heads are in our heads.
Our heads are a myth.
Everything made up by our heads is a myth.
Nothing more,
Nothing.
But what we refer to as,
The big vaccuum.
Nov 2016 · 246
It's Okay
Snotty VX Nov 2016
I want to sleep. Sleep, maybe, until everything else is dead
then there's just a desolate Earth, in it's orbit around a star
me, sleeping there, next to  my friends' corpses, on a bed of dried poppy flowers
,stale tear stains on my wet white t-shirt
I'm smiling. I'm happy. It's okay.
Snotty VX Nov 2016
There's a giant bruise on my leg.
I fell asleep on my red couch at sunset
she a ******* *****. I hate her.
I want to bathe myself in arcrylic paint.
and scream, "O Canada!" in Washington DC
I'll burn off my fingernails later,
pick fleas out of my ears,
swallow the rock stuck up my throat
and watch the whole world get ****** by the void


I really feel like I have to *****. it's a bit of a euphoric feeling.
Nov 2016 · 197
0 Voices
Snotty VX Nov 2016
Nobody in the room is talking..
I'm enjoying this sliver of a moment
Snotty VX Nov 2016
The moment, when it all comes down at once
The weight comes crashing into your back, snapping your spine in two.
Struggling to breathe as you put all of your strength into holding it up
It takes mental strength. You forgot to work out last night.
Trying to keep from tripping on your own feet.
Eventually, it gives away, falling on top of you.
Comes out in clots, clots of sentiments and emotions,
Spat out by the gray scribbles which slither through your mind.
Controlling you, Every time you encounter another being with supposed intellect
The sweat pooling up in your clenched palms, shivers rolling down your neck
Struggling, violently but silently, not to let more of it pour out onto the ground.
Not to be crushed dead.
Every scream is a whisper, every whisper is a scream.
Anything audible goes through in radio static.
The expressions, their questioning expressions.. They glance for a second then excuse the phenomenon.
All you can do is look at the ground, choke on your breaths
Hold on to your chest, press the “clear” button.
The moment, when it all comes down at once.

— The End —