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 Oct 2018
stopdoopy
The air, saturated with a putrid smell.

Foul, like a dumpster in summertime.

They're monsters, skulking around in the Dead of Night.

Leaving, a sickness in their wake.

You're revolting.

The way you take.

Gnashing your teeth.

Trying, to pluck out little hearts.

Attempting, to creep up thighs.

Don't touch me, with those slimy fingers.

Go before you die, rotting beast.

We are not a cemetery.
A piece about how horrible men can be, also partially based off the Depeche Mode song "The Dead of Night" because I absolutely love it and thought it was about something completely different than what it's actually about.
 Jul 2018
stopdoopy
(In a vacant church Little Girl and Big Man sit on a parish
a few feet apart, in between them lies a book titled"My Feelings".)

(The curtain opens. Little Girl sits staring at Big Man. Big Man gets up and goes to the statue of himself in front of them for a closer look.)

Big Man: Will talking in person really make a difference?

Little Girl: I like to think it does.

Big Man:  (turns to look at her incredulously.) What wishful thinking, you're so naïve.

(Little Girl opens her book and starts to read aloud.)

(Big Man cuts her off with a noise every time she starts to say something until she falls silent.)

Big Man: Just as I thought, it doesn't change anything.

Little Girl: But you don't-

Big Man: (cuts her off again.) You just can't let things go, that's your problem. I told you I didn't want to do this, yet you dragged me out here. It didn't accomplish anything!

Little Girl: That's because you don't even want to listen or try to talk, you just want to yell and blame me!

Big Man: That's enough, this conversation is over. (Walks off stage right.)

(Little Girl screams in anger and throws "My Feelings" at the Big Man Statue.)

(The Curtain closes.)
I wanted to try something a little different! I've never written stage directions or a play before but I thought this would be a nice change. I didn't really convey the raw anger or passion, nor was it the scene what I originally wanted but maybe it's a step in the right direction. Trying out different styles is neat. Not happy with this piece though but... oh well.
 Jul 2018
stopdoopy
Do you ever wonder if they care as much as they say they do?

Why can't they answer your message?

Why do they only give a few brief words?

Why does it feel like you're the only one trying?

If you have theses or similar questions
then it might be time to cut yourself free and wait.

Wait until they ask you how you are.

Wait until they answer your message.

Wait until they try to put some effort in.

If it never comes, then they don't.
don't just wallow in your sadness either though
 Jul 2018
stopdoopy
Red
Sometimes I wish I could just cry,
to get all my emotions out,
drain the thoughts,
but I never can.
Now i'm stuck with them,
a needle just poking through the surface of fabric
just enough to ***** yourself on,
only you cant stop,
and soon your hand is covered in red,
just like your face when you
FINALLY
break down and the tears trickle
.
 Jul 2018
stopdoopy
Time to fall back into the murky waters again

You did so good

Splishing along the surface

trying to keep yourself afloat

making all those luscious bubbles

but it's time to sink below

and rest.
Suppose I have to post at least one poem, this can be read however you want.

I know it seems suicidal but tbh this was made because I was looking at water pics on tumblr and I just had to write something bout it.

— The End —