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I've been abused
Bla bla bla
My life's been *****
Bla bla bla
Nothing's the same
Bla bla bla
I tremor as I sleep in chains
Bla bla bla
My waking dreams and nightmares are the same
Bla bla bla
Last night I tried to **** myself in the rain
Bla bla bla
The trauma might get better but will never go away (fully change)
Bla bla bla
My brother died last week
Bla bla bla
He left me this ring
Bla bla bla
I wore it straight unto the grave
Bla bla bla
And never once told I'm gay
You're gay?
Oh god...
Anything
But gay
 Feb 2017 Robert J Howard
CJ Cole
I'm a Disappointment.
I'm an Eventual ****-up.
I'm an utter *******.
I'm not Dead.
Yet.
 Feb 2017 Robert J Howard
Jeremy
Call me

Not by my name

But by the memories we made

The feelings we enslaved  

And the songs that we played

Just call me

Not tomorrow

Or next week

But call me today
The town was dark
It had Satan as its guard
The stars that shone they danced with deception
As the night corrupted
So it was that the cosmology spiralled into disarray
Rain from clouds
As torturous as cancer
Acid that burns deep into your soul
Our mortal flesh bleeds
As the immortal pain of life succeeds
It saddens as it saturates
The toxic twist navigates
Into the psyche of the artist poor
Who sits in a dying flame
Waiting to score
To pen the phrase
To paint the elaborate Titan's maze
The abuse of others
Our beauty it covers
It's the camouflage of nature,
Of the wholesome and serene
Turns a rose into a ruptured spleen
So we write and we paint
We shout and we scream
We never sleep
So we never dream
Provoking this reality
That provokes our stability
Insults our mentality
And all the while
We wear the clowns smile
We toil , we endeavour
We never give up,,,   ,,,  never,
How doth thou wake with an aching need?
For femmes and games and **** loads of ****?
To he who dost appreciate the weight of a lass
As spindly and petite with one hell of an ***?
Dost thou think for a mo...
That the only love felt tis that of a ***
Thou wast the only one left in the bar
With an overdose of E and a fool hearty scar
Nay my dear boy as one could only believe
A fuckboi thou art, and a fuckboi thou'll be
Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships

But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls

Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey
The heart is the same size as the fist. If they are both beating do they serve the same purpose?
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