Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ambitions for Angel's. Heavens in knowing I'm in it...
I got flows like a ocean. That lead str8 to the river...
Turning wiser. And older..
sentence of addiction...
Still illuminate the dark.
hitting Edison switches...
With the recipe to hell
Gordon's back in the kitchen
A Devine listening.
Of trippy artifacts and papers...
An artform
Transferred into books on tape....
pragmatic
Saviours..
A feeling made to make a gangster. Feel his greater nature...
Glowing hearts.
ramblings of a sinner..
That shape
The grayness that's still left in winter...
A bitter tongue.
The mic
Like satan's innards... entrails dinner....
A failing game that plays the master.
Against new beginners.
Without a foolish filter.
I make snapchat
Means suit aces
And a duece for kicker...
***** like magic. It distracts from the truth

An elaborate rouse.

That's more like active abuse

Thoughts  he discourages.

 courage that you sadly refuse

While hes rewording your life 

To be matching his views

**** it. Reexamine how this happened

To you

Dreams to travel foreign galaxies

With the man that you knew

Now stuck in submission

******* planet for two

And misery is pity

That attracts you back to

The same ******* clown

Without the mask and a suit

 Hes asking you daily

 about what you actually do

Sherlock in his home

Without the badge and the clues

Bad as the news

When you discover hes cheating

Now hes calling you crazy

And you start to believe him

Hes enraged and laced with anger

*** some day you may leave em

So he grabs you by the throat and squeezes

Choking your breathing.

You hope he doesn't mean it

And soon it all will be over

Than you wake up from your dream

And see the same man on your shoulder
To whom it may concern
When reading me. Choose to read the preface first. I come with a story. Though not at all rational. I seem
To leap off the page. At certain people and to others fall utterly and tragically short of worth. To some I am a joke. To others a marvel. To few I am completely genuine and forthcoming.
And to most a maze of elaborate discontinue.
I mostly worry about the readers that may interpret my story as grotesque or disfigured. Trying to reshape the way others may see it so hurriedly and desperately that sometimes I forget it was grotesque at times. In my experience one can only truly know him self by severing the bonds between him and society. Only than will he truly know himself. But it comes with a **** load of mental and emotional pain. Tears and heartbreak.
But to live with no secrets is the greatest gift God had ever given me.
And for that I will gladly face rejection from society over and over again.
I want you to imagine for a moment every body knew of every thought feeling and action you have ever experienced. Now imagine everybody embracing you for who you are. No matter the bad *****. You would feel truly blessed. *** we all hide away certain aspects of our self and eventually it becomes so routine that we lose our Devine identity. So no longer are you genuine your a juggler.
I've been this way for far too long. It's time to be real. No matter the consequence. If you embrace me for me. Than I love you right back. If you deem me unworthy than I disagree but I respect your opinion. Truth is if I keep up like this I'm going to die. So let's get real.
Just up at 4 am writing some **** about my life and how I need to change
Your brother jo. Well Madison's brother but soon to be your brother. I wanted to say I'm super ******* sorry for treating you guys like a bag of ****. I've come along way. You gotta understand I got into the wrong crowd young and was heavily influenced by bad **** early on.
Alot of that was repressed sexuality and struggling with my identity. It wasn't ok to be gay or bi in my circles back than.
So I bottled alot of **** up. I just gotta say my sister could not have chose a better guy. And I know your very loyal and loving to my sister. It's not easy for me *** me and maddy have a bad past and I always try to mend the bond but alot of the time before I would build up a trust just to **** up and burn it down. I really love my sis. And if you could do me a favor. Is remind her every day that theirs beauty in all things. Even the bad and unsightly things. That theirs beauty in her craziness. And never let her forget that your touch and your kiss is a promise. A promise that as long as you two are together you will find each others hearts in whatever trials life may offer. Seeking her hand for the joy and stability she brings you. And the rugged honesty and willingness to grow you so earnestly show her. I pray that my mushy gushy text reminds you that although I am sort of an outsider in this family I have a huge heart. And just like theres beauty in a rose
There too Is beauty in the thorns. And remember If anybody ***** with either of you. I got your back. I can sense your Leary of me. Kind of rigid. Hesitant and a little bit timid around me. You shouldn't be
You should always remember that I  got your back. And that your a ******* Gablehouse. Take that wherever you go.
And hopefully you can get to know me and I can get to know you. K goodnight bro. Love ya lots.
Texts to my brother in law. At 4 am. Listening to the hot tub jets in the green house and feeling like this particular text needed to be shared. Idk why. Maybe some things are better left off the internet. But I thought this was extremely profound and sincere so what do I do? Make it public like the ******* beautiful narcissist I am
testaments like rick shaws
carry monsters to the fair
aware
im staring at the glare
that shares the longing for your hair
and in despair
i take my mind into a foreign shop to eat
the chinese cream
and tea that treats me to
a very foreign theme
the thought of prisoners
held captive
but in a very nice abode
perhaps a glimpse of mtv cribs
*** she lives nicer than my home
call me for the ransom
kidnapped and adaptive brightness
riding eyes wide
dragon fire inside
its ******* frightening
dying,, living in enhancement
entranced
dope in guage romance

ten guage the trigger dance
and i freudian slip and red my hands
my life a madness
in containment
chased no bravery here just blood
the microscopic homeglobins
slowly flowing down my plut
french for *****
mostly mushy
drenched in mud
and burned like sage
a ****** mystery like pages
with a pinch of salt (assaullt)
and violent rage
Next page