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Her Body/Her Weapon/Her Choice
Ultra violent
visions
of
grandeur
gracefully
spill the blood
of lost innocence
in the lust of the moment
I lunged for her throat
swallowed her moans
and left her writhing
in bed
beating her heart out
bleeding her love out
battling demons
of my ****** up
electromagnetic
heart
I left a war
in her head
waived the white flag
and walked away
Like God
leaving her to
her own
destructive
device
Her Body
Her Weapon
Her Choice
this is more of a repost of a beautiful poem. author unknown
My Angel Dear
My mother is my Angel
Of that I know for sure.
Through her seldom smiles
That last for miles
to the tears she never cries.
My mother is my Angel
And I am by her side
From "Wake up" in the morning
To "I love you" late at night
I've found my secret Haven
in Angel's words just like starlight
Angel always seems to listen
Even when I think she's not
I've learned to be forgiving
I've learned to follow dreams
I've learned so much from Angel
I've never fully seen
I've always quite admired
Angel for her strength
But mostly for her loving words
that get me through the day
My Mother
My Angel dear
Don't ever leave me
My own life to steer
Mother Appreciation
Jul 2014 · 474
Dead People Understand Me
dead people understand me
i should visit a cemetry
'cause i think my time has run out on earth
i refuse to tip-toe through life to arrive safely at death
'cause all it takes is one shot
one syringe to induce a blood clot
i can see the needle from here, its quite appealing
or i could get up on the table and free fall from the ceiling
the pain will be temporary, permanent will be the horror
i hope my mom doesnt walk in on a corpse, i should warn her
its funny how the floor becomes a second home during rigormortis
the heart gives up, fingers tingling, this sight is gorgeous
no future in sight, look in my dead eyes, they're glistening
this should have never happend, pain is now an addiction
dead people understand me
i should visit a cemetry
Poem Written While Suicidal.

— The End —