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Mar 15 · 37
blank 2_7
badtaste Mar 15
The sequel is never as good as the original
How original
Time is ticking I can't wait
Jul 2022 · 211
How Am I Normal
badtaste Jul 2022
I can't deal with this remorse from my guilty conscience.
chewed on my tongue to the bone, swallowed down fear until it hits the pit of my soul.
leaves me pale, what an inner grossness this is.
or is this spit on my flesh from God.
stuck with myself - my sinister shadow sewn to the one who walks in the fresh sunlight.
thriving - soul - slowly - dying at night, my thoughts swarm - fester faster and faster
like a fish in bowel my home is purgatory ;
will I repeat?
will I repent?
how am I to feel normal
how can I if she isn't still here
I hear her voice over the phone
alone to her thoughts before the knot was wrapped
it was all my fault
her feet dangled above ground
a true angel levitating past this existence
my forevermore entangled in memory
until I perish
Apr 2022 · 714
badtaste Apr 2022
I treasure  my blossom / like a flower she shall grow and blossom
I cherish her skin /fearing the worst when day it will rotten
I curse the moon / faces he changes some grin some scheme
I hold her face closest  / when she misbehaves , outside in woods , to the window she will scream
I pleasure my blossom / poems she begs for so I will always write more
I answer my blossom / questions of home ? but here she will stay , here where it is warm
I dream of my blossom / her pedals lose color  in colder season
I pollen my blossom / by moon fall we will know if conceived was daughter or son
I bury my blossom / this cabin is silent but loud  like wind
I cry for my blossom / our child starved without a drop of milk
I need a new blossom / a daisy field is over the hill
I find my new blossom / but another gardener is there ; another I shall ****
I walk with my blossom / she holds onto my wrist tight with love
I carry my blossom / through the doorway as newlywed
I fight for my blossom / scoundrels or sheriffs couldn’t fathom our celibate matrimony
I lust for my blossom / how she smells and reminds me of my last family
I yearn for my blossom / she cries with tears - soul curling  callings of pompous proportions

S H E . N E E D S . T O . C A L M . D O W N .

I pet my blossom / hum out what she needs to hear now

“The day we decay in the casket we share ; we will stare so close nose to nose. No need to breath so faint and vigorously into my ear , Im here , my dear , forever through death. Let the worms feed on us both , when our story is told , in books or songs of romance envious audience will dance. Hold onto my flesh if you need some more , in the cupboard I stored , another layer for warmth. You smell of dandelions your hair like straw , I swore I saw your shattered kaleidoscope garnished glare elsewhere before. Your soul is sown onto my own how humbled I am to have you back home. Sleep now. H U S H . N O W. Wipe tears of joy off of your porcelain skin. You will wake to my eyes , every day , every night , I will hum you asleep sing you my eulogy again again again. My most precious flower , with such a solemn smile  , lips so cracked kiss so sweet , your flower will bloom with a blossom none have seen. Goodnight fare love greet me with glee inside your dream.”

the ambience of woods / the sirens of crickets
I close my eyelids on the floor beside my blossom
s i l e n c e
Inspired by squirrel stapler simulator
badtaste Jan 2022
words I struggle to announce - they crawl and edge on my tongue -

I swallow back down this raw emotional warmth.
hesitation boils in my stomach-
anticipation gnaws on the conscious that is ticking down...
to be lost

I whisper in the red blistered state of my mind

to act out-
act now ! yet I don't

patiently, you smile, continuing your hum.
, a spacious smile consulting with freckled dimples ,
a brilliant sheen - sunlight glitters off your mocha shaded skin.
your beautiful night covered eyes, fixated in an awe-aspired innocence
slyly I dance in a shifted stance - fake stretching to catch the glimmered glance exchanged
what a cosmic marvel it is for your windows to burnish -
- in such an intimate opaque opal wonder - an over expressive
blackened aperture :
just as your very soul is to an aching traveler
indescribable comfort  from a blanket of immense interpretations
galactic aesthetic given within every mere moment
****** intentions sloughed for this uninterrupted connection...

intense unintended ecstasy

blank stare I share
geekily breathing I halt
holding my breath
overthinking hastens as apparitions of her in my life take place

dumbfounded an understatement
I fall back ; imaginably my feet burrow down into my soles.
I blush a fresh coat of embarrassed excitement across my face.

the best part of this is we are not even strangers
we are lovers yet I find it so thrilling to have such over encumbered emotions  
none that are unfamiliar , just the rush of receiving
in turn makes it evermore welcoming  
just as dust floating in sunlight  
a pure force makes us too, levitate...

we enjoy this nervous bliss
until death do we part with our final kiss
Jan 2022 · 127
pen- is mightier than -cil
badtaste Jan 2022
finish the poem/
do you love her, or do you not?
they are all in anticipation with how you will prolong these unsettled emotions with interrupted punctuation…
ellipses are used as visual seeds on your paper to plant the exposition of the prologue to a metaphor illustrating a tree of all branching decisions that lead to this over exhausted tragedy
spilt the rain check or bark up new rearranged jigsaw  literature structures  
make this sentence not rhyme with any other jargon found above or below
sure…just reinsure you’re not the monster when you have so much self awareness to your problem,
don’t forget you’re an addict to self inflicted mistakes
back stabbing yourself hurts , but the rush is worth the risk your subconscious is the witness and victim but has no way to make you listen

finish the poem/
no more discussions
don’t overthink your worst mistakes
Sep 2021 · 377
badtaste Sep 2021
I don’t want to stay
I cannot sleep
I don’t want to leave
I cannot breathe

when I realize I’m falling in love with my best friend
overthinking tragedies of how it’ll end
Sep 2021 · 120
badtaste Sep 2021
simple beautiful ambience

alone, but only with you,

a red flush of burning flesh ; iron aftertaste on my tongue after the bass in my chest slows down

remarkably makes my heart panic as if in a crowded audience

deep breathe ; chapped lips ; sixth sense pushing me closer to your warmth

subconscious stranger to myself takes control when I know I must hold you ; but lack courage to confess the confidence I give you was a gift that you left

for me…

lust; a duet of polar opposite ambitions

secrets we kept and promises we wished on ; sacred touches and kisses we blushed upon

Insatiable flavor you bring ; familiar like a sound from a song I heard you sing

I don’t want to rush out of this Paradise; but I cant stand being a prisoner of this taunting device: I want to give us a chance, but do I need to put all my love up for good ? I hate gambling - I have a feeling - whenever the house plays with a loaded  dice
Aug 2021 · 135
Untitled: on purpose
badtaste Aug 2021
he could paint hearts helping any lost soul find love in any helpless moment
strangers say he resembled Euphrates in every picture frame he was captured in
a tortured artist who’s sly tongue could sell sand to a camel—a humble poet who’s ego was unprecedented
—or unappreciated?
undiscovered by strangers he sees as lovers
silent type typing lines as fast as his unconscious whispers the next word to the sequence
or madness?
no, just a hobby at best.
just a stress reliever while work demands attention;
more immediate than a brat’s confession of abandonment while the parent is scheduling plans for his 17th birthday the day the child turns three…
a long time ago he and I didn’t feel so different
now why don’t I feel the same as he does though?

confusion is a ramble that both the speaker and listener losses a sense of direction with…

no, it’s a vacation from overthinking…
just pour out this swarming storm of emotions
just pour out the bottle and let your new voice please answer
a drink doesn’t matter - a sip won’t make him panic
he’s calm like an ocean but can scream like a hammer
a psychotic unstable pacifist
more lost then bones in a wedge under the wreckage
on a salary as underpaid as an audiologist analyst
always here to listen never to speak;
someone always needs a shoulder he just shuffles his feet
crazy lazy weekends ends in reruns locked on repeat
Jul 2021 · 84
badtaste Jul 2021

Sorry for the way I stumbled into your life.
I swear to God-the floor was pulling at my ankles…
also! the celling top was giving me a backside high-five — the moment I finished the fifth and after the sun turned off the lights.

I embarrass myself each time I try to embrace this side,
cliche as falling in love like a rerun television show—
freaking out like a pubescent clown realizing he should have grown up to be a mime;
a silent touch of romantic irony, laughing at my own jokes,
until this awkward moment flies out the window…

stop me if you heard this one before;
why did time grow wings?
to fly by like a crow squalling-
that it is past time you should be married…


unreliable communication
incomprehensible interpretations

being an addict to tragic accidents-
known as flirtatious Failures fulling the fire
of the metaphorical dying flicker to the love life of our protagonist-
this is precisely what was prophesied
from a poet’s birthday candle wishes.

it’s funny how Lady Luck and cousin karma have this affair of misfortune;
capsizing all relationships—
that were set to sail—
hook-line-and-sinker stationary in an icy-burn isolation.

hopefully time can thaw out this doomed  autobiography (of a poetic confession trapped with 4 borders boring the audience awaiting the same confession)
he has been struggling to sense together,
since the first line that was typed…


so I stand up with a straight face—
swallow the frog and eat the butterflies for breakfast—
walk up to you with full intentions,
with a sly grin you echo the words I mummer; just as a mic in a crowed place,
I repeat in a shy broken throat-making me more of a fool from the words I chose-
latter to laugh
and just to write about
how embarrassing I made our very first date…
a collection of 3 small poems I’ve been saving trying to hopefully connect them together cohesively. :)
Jul 2021 · 166
badtaste Jul 2021
oh girl
time has its way
it says the truth that hurts
it’s easier to cover your ears -
bury your head in the
time slips away
just as grains in your hand
your palm breaks with time
oh girl
Jul 2021 · 187
happy parents day
badtaste Jul 2021
Ultimately I understand the ultimatum I’ve created
I’ve never been good at committing and only conflicted by ceasing to creating
middle ground of talking
communication with my family has been more of a sore since it’s just a constant debating situation
Stress among us has lead to constant jargon of ignorant acceptance of our differences
leading to years of silence simply puts delaying of you meeting your grandchildren
For him
Jun 2021 · 75
over it
badtaste Jun 2021
humanity vs insanity;
a joke vs the punchline;
art captured in a single sentence-
such an inspiration seeing the beauty in pain-
a story of how life is;
absence vs abuse ;
addiction and his muse;
just one more semicolon to the self aware audience that this  triumph continues;
despondency of a tragic backstory leaves complacent agony of a stereo-typical-dictionary-picture-perfect-literary-school-subject­-finger-snapping-cloaked-poet-eddy-outcast-finger-poking-laugh-st­ock-lesser-person-desperate-feeling-introspective-adolescent-prot­agonist-of-the-1sided-tragic-heroic-epic-anthology-of-a-dark-mind­ed-online-persona-posting-exposed-person-caught-lurking-only-want­ing-something-someone(?)-person-love(?)-showing-only-rejecting-cr­iticism-critiquing-only-meant-toBe-helping-overthinking-over-thin­king…

Jun 2021 · 123
вαԃ ፕዪጎየ
badtaste Jun 2021
tripping so hard licking dry cement
talking so wack losing all common-sense
dreams so dead what did any of it meant
babe’s flesh feels like plastic meat

eyes all wide LOOKING RIGHT AT ME
EYES ALL WIDE glares just like a creep
no one speaks RESPECT THE DEAD
NO ONE LEAVES this is the end

delirious hyperactive paranoia
delicious hypersensitive paraphernalia
spongebob episodes play out like a poem
sobbing like a hobo in my motorhome
perfectly describes my 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥
Jun 2021 · 80
isolation and her
badtaste Jun 2021
in a bleak  betraying  whimsical way
I want to lay in the desolate snow with you.
paraphrasing how poets say
I want to grow old with you- so I’ll try:

<𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 & 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦>
melancholy = mediocrely
medicinal = manipulative
promises = broken    

clichés and critics say my love is predictable and scripted
that I’m foreshadowing tragedies or my muse is figurative
I never did well in English - but you made me pick up the pen
I never thought I’d fall in love - but you make me want to do it again

I care less who sees this - except you
I’ll just take another hiatus - until you tell me how good did I do?
Idk I’ll be back eventually
Jun 2021 · 224
& so he overthinks
badtaste Jun 2021
the shine of her shrine brings fair smiles to some,
young lies fester and spread faster than flies hatching from larvae.

Days by days - weeks at a time - content is a constant crisis to our protagonist

summer is welting while winter is begging to stop the talk of death,
but change is soon - somethings are better not stopped; the same as letting the flame from the candle die with the room...
...yes he does
badtaste Feb 2021
It’s been 16 years and you still look the same-
Our hearts have been far apart but you still remember my name...
Your perfume sticks to your skin-
This room is filled from moments of fortune from when...
I show you the calluses to prove the age I am-
I hold your face with a rough touch from a hurting man...
My guitar hums a familiar tune-
I need to leave this place perhaps later maybe soon...
/Liquid IV tips and taps down a plastic glass\
Look into my broken brown eyes - look past the sadness of this moment - realize since everyone else has disappeared I won’t disappoint - I will always stay and still be here
Forever and now until your very last moment
Jan 2021 · 113
ol’men to new shores
badtaste Jan 2021
the currency is war - the debt is ***,
it’s time to repay the tax from the glory days.

conspiracy is free - among the men at sea,
they await to join Yankees that are drunken on the shore.

ad-ease! calm your sails - the wind startles lads, that jump at first sound of freedom.

she sounds like a fantasy - sung within our shanties , wearing silk and cotton undergarments.

liberty is precious - like a rose you must cherish, for our neighbors are caught with stone setting fire to our garden...
a poem for my great grandpa who died in WW1
Jan 2021 · 93
she can’t help me
badtaste Jan 2021
I want to do you - you nasty little creature

but I cannot stomach - you seeing another.

The sacred touch of your skin -
is nothing like theirs - to hƎll with all them-
I only need yours.

Am I just a Vermin - riddled with diseases - or am I worth saving ? until you don’t need me

I’m so pathetic but I’m so obsessive- maybe this is what true love is called...
Dec 2020 · 109
badtaste Dec 2020
rotten teeth speak forgotten truth,
back when the days of sin were sung by shadowed youth,
through the dark-it sparked-so many ingenious risks,
Cyanide apple seeds swallowed by society’s rejects,
no one is sour-not even the insects dare to be bitter,
Year 1981 was the time to be alive / never have I ever wanted to relive those memories as much as I do now...
a poem about L S D
Oct 2020 · 58
An Emo’s Lullaby
badtaste Oct 2020
sitting in the dark; breathing mechanically-
looking down at the ground; tear drops fall cloaked in the shadows-
silently wheezing in pain; wishing for any change - to put this black heart back in its box -
meanwhile she shows him affection&attention
while I’m mourning over our wedding being ruined in a single morning walking in-on her-on top-of him...
..."𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦" I speak aloud in a shattered scream—repeatedly hitting my skull against the car door screen—never get married on Halloween
badtaste Oct 2020
"𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩."
ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ
                      T̶o̶ l̶e̶a̶v̶e̶ a̶ d̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ m̶e̶m̶o̶r̶y̶
ᖴOᖇᘜOTTᗴᑎ Iᑎ Tᕼᗴ ᗪᑌᔕT
They all say it at least once
Oct 2020 · 69
badtaste Oct 2020
I want to surround you
take all the harm away
hum to you softly-
watch you drift to sleep from the melody...

I want to understand love
I will stop the bleeding if you **** the pain
I will fall down and confess my sins
only if you promise staying here next to me...

I’m not afraid of the midnight storms
I’m petrified for being abandoned and torn-
apart where my insides sit in the open-
and my decaying heart is seen as art to inspire your next poem...

I want to surround you
I want to remember a time I could forget
even if you call my words out as a paradox
I’ll stop singing sad songs if you will complete my duet...
she knows who she is
I know who I’m not
badtaste Oct 2020
sell your guitar and forget your dreams.
tell your friends it was just make-believe.
𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 you were just a kid hitting a drum, in your uncles garage.
meanwhile your mom was drunk; and your dad was busy beating the dog.
people will always laugh at your tragedies...

so head to bed and try to get some sleep
I’m certain when you awaken things will still be the same; Father Time is always late to the first outing - that’s why destiny takes so long for things to change.

keep your spirits high - just like that time you waited on your parents for a ride.
remember in that parking lot? you talked to your shadow for nearly 3 hours while your mum & dad where still parked-in the driveway getting high off of  disappointment and “ HAᗺITƧ " ...

stay inside your head; it’s a safe space from all the craziness. Just remember your not alone because I too have dealt with this, I love you Lewis. Goodbye
it’s been awhile since I’ve posted
May 2020 · 262
Monsters in Modern Times
badtaste May 2020
for those that support the disorder of life,
understand the order of all peace kept - sleeps with one hand tight with a knife,

covered in sheets that reek from the odor of death - secrets creep over the  security that was sworn to be kept,
molded from laws as soft as  concrete constantly mocking the hungry  families who eat dinner with a papier-mâché fork wrapped in  barbed wire,

like a Christmas present expired to be opened on Halloween - the corporate begs for his try as he fears his life will be silenced  from the woman screaming inside the screen of a machine,

trails hide liars but it is unanimous  the innocence is such an inconvenience to those who share a chair in power - one more child is treated as a photo never receiving justice as  deserved,
dessert is served but sentencing was never heard - the Franklin family left without any sweet revenge,
it seems big business buys opinions and walks clean with red covered hands that dipped in the process

such a shame the court caught an inner most disgusting sickness and deserted dignity from the rights of 13-year old Rebecca Arnold Frank
true story
Apr 2020 · 69
the new age
badtaste Apr 2020
Find relief, underneath, the last swaying maple leaf.
In the soil, a helpless echo, spills from scared oak.
A naked fern, cold and worn, stays silent but has already spoke-
it’s chilling pleas, for sanctuary, meanwhile machine plants

Apr 2020 · 76
brown eyes
badtaste Apr 2020
falling in love was not my fault,
it is an emotion one is helpless to.
it is out of your control-a complete surrender to the fantasy you want to become reality

hoping the other catches you-then security rises
it is the risk over reward-always loyal and faithful

love is blindfold;it hides hurt like mold breaking beams beneath your feet

falling in love can hurt...but it makes us feel most alive

love makes a sane man a maniac;
perhaps I’ve always been in love with the idea of being loved
instead of actually being loved
“...and in that single moment-they felt they knew each other their entire lives...”
Mar 2020 · 75
my final poem to her
badtaste Mar 2020
they said all I ever did
was to live by feeding off all your accomplishments,
that I was only a fiend-not your friend
but if they began from the beginning,
perhaps they'd understand...

I was just jealous-of your will and
to move on from the memories
and act as if they never did happen

8 months makes a memento
maybe that makes me pathetic-
to still be writing rhymes about you,
and lock you inside my head.

don't you worry,
I'm about to move on
mister nobody will finally write his final lines.

The depth of the darkness you claimed to feel inside my eyes-
lead you straight to my secrets
and helped break through the seduction-façade-every lie...

I bet these brown burrows brought a sense of home
each time you laid in my arms it gave a sensation of hope

But poets are petty for guilt tripping those we claim
“we hold close”

isn’t it unfair?
That I can’t fall asleep alone-
since my muse keeps holding my dreams for ransom-
every night infiltrates my subconscious
without an invitation...

I won’t put blame on you
it’s me who hates myself
for signing away happiness
trading it for selfish ***

I realized in the dusk of a darkening night,
when the rain enclosed a soggy emotion,
revelations of a cycle I have entrapped myself into-
came in spite of foggy-ill-ententions.

I had to leave and fill myself with hate
and pry you would feel the same before it’d be too late...

I hate how much I still love you, it honestly makes me sick.
apart of me wishes we could wipe the slate
and try another attempt.
but that’s the problem-it will never work

so sorry that I never learned and held onto the silence-I didn’t write all these lines to make you hurt
I know I must be a ****
giving you such simple things
like letters and gifts

keep something as a souvenir to remind you how it’s all meaningless stuff
for when the sun fades away - later today - there’s a chance {I will be considering} that you’ll actually be taking it all apart;
out of destruction-or embarrassment- the possibilities for you not to finish this note are endless...

but poetry is just words on dead trees
I speak in circles
for breakfast I’ll eat all my words
until I feel empty
then I’ll pour
every drop of this petty pain
into a symbolic rusted chalice
and drink until I get drunk-
off from my last soliloquy {that goes} ;

perhaps later in life - when we both reach our prime
we can sit down together and look each other in the eye
until then hate all the things I gave and took away from your life
longest piece don’t expect anyone to read it fully
Just needed to vent
Mar 2020 · 143
badtaste Mar 2020
In the last breaking hour
controlled under the iron-clutch of a dying kingdom
hear the laughter through the halls
as a new hysteria is swarming.
and the people call for a book to foretell the final chapter,
from the start to the end-to find a righteous answer.


Just as the eagle's feather falls
so do crowns from kings; caused of unseen catastrophes
this leaves the knowing left to uncover-
calamities hidden within ghostly visions-
sworn to loyalty of vengeance,
as fakers cry a false mourning.


A holocaust of happiness leaves the young prince with only questions
to live- to die- to love- to try, and seek his name a meaning
for those we lose we lose parts of ourselves
madness to some is just a gentler grieving.


So plunge your pen into the sky
and write the years as they come by
to time tragedies are just one blink shy of a happy ending.

. . .
Feb 2020 · 92
badtaste Feb 2020
every time you cross my mind
fog fills my skull and clouds my thoughts
each time I say your  name
my tongue curls up and green travels through my lungs
any moment I see you close
turquoise trickles and travels onto my lips
such salty emotions I savor
you are the badtaste that lingers but I’m obsessed with the flavor
Feb 2020 · 161
she crumbled me
badtaste Feb 2020
you bloomed with colors others never knew could exist
you exhaust an ignorance to acknowledge your absolute accomplishments
a perfectionist artist who has no time for rough drafts
should have guessed this love was just cat scratch
thrown away in the basket case
with the rest of all your beautiful mistakes
I feel lesser than paper to her
Feb 2020 · 128
an open sore on my chest
badtaste Feb 2020
“why don’t you write me a poem?
You are a poet- it is your day of love.”

I held her but felt her hold her breath
She cried then laughed about life always being the same
She didn’t want to sleep so I stayed awake
I awoke in freezing pain
I’m just bleeding out in a bath
from a live heart surgery she gave me during Valentine’s Day
this is why I hate this holiday
Feb 2020 · 143
Karen took our kid
badtaste Feb 2020
why do memories gotta be this upsetting?
I don’t remember forgetting being this frustrating.
why is she telling me that I am overstepping?
I just need some sleep,
but the bells sing hymns of our wedding.
is that my daughter? or an impostor of his eyes and your nose,
oh my sweet little angel!
you unforgiving monster!
you’re her mother and he’s just a confession to the *******,
I don’t care if I’m drunk right now
You can’t take her away and give the credit to the liar!
I’m still her father
not a meme
badtaste Jan 2020
each time a poet confesses the same love in a new way,
it is a moment one can truly never recreate.
just as a beach collects ashes from another dying stone,
this miracle allows sand to grow.
and as my words gather-
fall from my lips and slip through your hands-
a soft bay is what we have made
to fall upon-to hold this warmth
from the light of a future filled full of love
and joyous laughter.
upon a quilt switched from memory and inspiration
I lay next to the woman I want to waste with-
until the age of reckoning.
and once we pass
my heaven would be to live past
the age of one-hundred,
lost in a future time
seeing your smile through a strangers eyes,
again and again for
longer than  eternity.
even at the cost of my memory
just knowing our souls
would seek to stay intertwined
falling in love as if it was the first time-
makes me smile the same way you make me smile to this day
and forever

a l w a y s
I had this dream she rembered me
Jan 2020 · 535
badtaste Jan 2020
behold such a pure spring smile
a gracious green witch is born-
to a family not kin of her own
sworn to protect and heal those-
close in heart and to her home.

a queen who wears a crown of purple
thoughts, wisdom burns power in her dreams
awake she feels not alone-
however over encumbered
from flurries of hearts upon her steps;
like luscious velvet rose pedals
she sees and treats
with delicately envied dances,
how light on her feet-
how she does not fight to seek
a story unfold
one from epics and elders foretold
of romances that burn into tragedies.
thus begins a seduction to another non verbal

her soul does not graze only to one
her will does not stay in an emerald-
her loyalty is not won with
sincerities of golden covered
her strength grows from those
she seeks
understands what worship and openness
truly means;
to live with oneself and love the teachings
her goddess brings and ushers
forgiveness to ignorance
so she can change in a better way.

just as a calf sheds new fur
her growth is unknown
until the pain stains blood red anger;
into the mark of the mistake-
which makes her mind fell less alive
each time she stays in solitude
the sadness feeds darkening madness
which storms fresh seeds to another
growing self-massacre.
when love is lost she mediates
and waits...
patience pays.
when change arrives,
parties of the new black moon
bring smiles from close friends
together, hopefully sooner than later
these conversations
cause no more hibernations
to her inner most
beautiful creativity.
her passion
spills upon affection
to this second family
a faithful array-such colorful company-
a genuine celebration!
at least a fest deserves food for such festivities
moments pass as evergreen memories
which become hummed
as angelic melodies-
fulfill her every emotion sung through
the reflective windows of her soul
a glow from her eyes
shows happiness is still alive
which makes poets woe and lovers know
she is free

~ taurus
happy birthday
Jan 2020 · 63
in the season of the snow
badtaste Jan 2020
do you remember
just after December,
two Scorpios
heading down an ol dusty road?
there they go
into the snow,
never to come to your front door.
how different would it be
if all I became was just a dormant memory?
would you have ever made that promise to your soul;
to pursue the purpose-when-in-mist
of a blizzard blow
to find the words of a birds songs
and hold that sound-
despite with every shiver felt-
when you heard the dying words in
each ever-eerie echo.
cover your ears
shut your eyes
for when you sleep
and wake tonight
the darkened sky will not cry
and shed those silent tears you call snow.
hide you pain in plain site
everyone walks over your flurry (I see their footprints)  
you love the cold even though
you never noticed you were the sun never meant to die alone
so shin with a smile-your's brings them new life.
don't rush-breathe slow,
for when the white burns a brighter-greener-ground
realize change will come soon.
just as the melting snow eventually fades-
through this cold will come a new age
and those memories of two simple Scorpios
will just be an opposite-day feeling
from when you achieve love and see yourself
as the glorious goddess you are
no longer will your heart be bleeding
in the season of the snow
i overthink and think this will confuse so many, as i am lost myself
badtaste Dec 2019
two brats holding hands in burlap sack-
father time watching while running laps-
everyone must have been too scared to speak up
they must have had razor burn on their tongue
panic and plastic is thrown to the ground
like snow in Panama-
foreign to all around-
it screams in ecstasy
I shake and clench this venomous syringe
it has no sting unlike the stinge of the wasp
disguised as a bee
in an unfamiliar nylon scene
a trip from a rave cloaked in confusing lingo
Dec 2019 · 220
this sand in my soul
badtaste Dec 2019
this is
we're falling in love
taking our time.
this is
we're caught making love
we're out of line.

this is, the happily-ever-after that was meant to be.
this is, your dream of growing old
but not with me.

this is the hot regret in your stomach
this is the cold prison you've never wanted
this is a daydream gone grey
this is the cycle of pain you just can't escape
this palace built on pleasant patience-
aged well with genuine grace-
underneath these wallpapers
a smell of rot-
an infiltrating sour scent of danger-  

this is the crushed rock wall in my soul
this is myself never to know why-
since ignorance makes the best slaves-
I will resist  to change
this is ironic ig
Oct 2019 · 2.1k
Just Another Ashtray
badtaste Oct 2019
I don't want to be the cigarette in your coat pocket
Just so you can take me out and use me
And after the high put me out and end my light -sprawled naked across my bed-just to say
"I wish we didn't do that..."

Filling me with such regret
We treat each other like an ashtray, dumping our problems onto one another making an ugly mess staining the sheets... Thank you Clever your poetry is always inspiring and I owe this work to you (just to clarify this isn't about me and clever lol the way I wrote it was based upon her voice)
Sep 2019 · 133
blank lullaby
badtaste Sep 2019
Ignorance and innocence were introduced with gleeful and gay intentions
Spring sprung with curious conversations
Summer was ever warmer with lovely everlasting memories
In fall they fell for one another
Slept through winter in each other’s arms
However when the red moon-gloomed of change
They parted paths and forgot each other’s names
Based on my breakup in a poets words...
Aug 2019 · 202
already out-the-door
badtaste Aug 2019
hello ***
you seemed to not have noticed
me dressed in your favorite clothes
slummed to the floor like a pile of wastefulness.
you seemed to loss your patience
when looking at a piece of plastic glass
with a half-guessed assumption
of me and her
loving life together.
is what I'll sing every-time to my new lover
when she won't be a nosy noisy
never ending story of the same heartbreak
broken on a loop of another thief who stole
and would take your "innocence".
don't forget this
this is what you wanted...
Aug 2019 · 115
blank city-life
badtaste Aug 2019
it's a hard rang to walk alone
under every underpass through seas of faces
tears of rain get your shoes wet
and waking up covered in city stress and rushed restless soggy
expressions. but here comes lady luck
and her Mr. Karma
they're too far away to tell
if those are smiles of joy
or smirks of finally finding payback
Aug 2019 · 12.3k
one little spider
badtaste Aug 2019
one little spider fell on my leg
I smacked him off then I said
"Did you nibble?
Did you bite?"
he said no
just kissed you goodnight
I made this poem for my little cousin
Aug 2019 · 927
Birth of Death
badtaste Aug 2019
I was born from the breathe of Satan-I was formed underneath a tree in Salem
I was sworn to **** the king with swords of Cain-I was torn in-between infamy and destiny from my name
I'm a nameless hatred created from the twisted creator seizing an unforgiving lust and hunger for another miserable maiden wasting her worth with words of wishes longing the chance to dance with the duke of death
but the bet begs black
and I'm dressed in red restless dripping decisions of every maiden's sins ever since Satan brought me back from the depths of *** and a forever reincarnation of Hell's retrieving-unforgiving-sanatorium
based on the 8th house
Aug 2019 · 120
EXtolled Intentions
badtaste Aug 2019
you were my practice
my only witness
to a kindling love that caught
a case of lovesickness
now six months has only felt like six days
if I could win your forgiveness
I'd change my ways
however you've heard it all before
a poet's words don't woe like they do anymore
I'd stop making poetry if you'd stop being so cold to me
but who am I to make demands (?)
I just wish we could be friends
yes I made a poem abt my ex...oof
Aug 2019 · 153
blank 2_6
badtaste Aug 2019
I believe books will bleed and through their pain truth we'll read-
between the lines inside my mind until I find the way to breathe-
I strain and choke on words I spoke and with the blood wrote a poet's
back in business baby
Jul 2019 · 353
Webster with her Webs
badtaste Jul 2019
give me a chance to take time
to take you away
from this place that you say
you need space to find
your own name
someone stole
your birthday
lovely it's ok...
(I know that feeling)
we get old
we die to early
time to live like
life ended yesterday
I got cobwebs covering my covers
stuck on a spooky new excitement
I can't sleep just have to speak
until my tongue falls
out my head
(not an understatement)
for Isobel Webster
Jul 2019 · 140
thisfeeelslikea WALL
badtaste Jul 2019
leg so hot it fry an egg"
made by a friend of mine
Jun 2019 · 497
spoiled sport learns love!
badtaste Jun 2019
my elders consider my punishment like prison
separated from my phone but linked to a chain in my home
for 7 days any kid my age wouldn't survive but suffer
what's for supper?
wait, last night double pound
McStuffer burger?!
but dad...
I'm trying a new diet tonight and am in immediate incapacity
of filling my bottomless pit's wildest delights
perhaps an offer...(?)
every night I must survive
we can all share a nice family supper
this just in extra extra!!!
Jun 2019 · 123
tin foil hat
badtaste Jun 2019
purpose proposes plenty of silly post apocalyptic  antidotes
such as a disease and grief seen as a remedy giving plenty
future weapons of mass destruction a new purpose
but the birth of this seed needs lots of hidden conspiracies
so if we blind our kind of any true sign from
our past we will surpass all the government securities
and illness of any kind can be seen with some perspective
in mind
Jun 2019 · 221
My vacation in Chicago...
badtaste Jun 2019
I've seen it all...
the deserted
become the damaged
burning themselves against
a graffiti sanctuary
heaven's wall.
never going back to that underpass...
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