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 Nov 2018 quinn silverman
teni
youre the worst type of lover
to fall for.

you break hearts
before yours can be broken
because its less painful
to hurt others
than it is to be hurt.

you are saving yourself
from the torturous nights
and bone shattering mornings
going to sleep
and waking up alone.
A WOMAN IS CRYING

In the next room
a woman is crying

a moon
perches upon an hotel sign

unmoved

as a new millennium
dawns

as bright as neon

the woman
still crying

her unknown
despair

shifting silently
from one century to another

human grief
unchanged

from age
to age.

A woman is crying.
beauty is the beginning of beauty.  a man and a woman wait together for a stripper.  you know the man like an intimate thought.  like a toddler covered head-to-toe in blue body paint stepping in front of a blue door.  the woman is an unfinished stranger whose son comes home to be with war and whose husband rests until laziness subsides.  the man is aware he’s the devil and this makes him god.  the woman is unaware she’s the devil and this makes it easy.  the stripper is watching a horror film and it makes her want to have a child.  she decorates her home then tries to remember moving a muscle.  the blood you don’t see is fake.
Christina Quinn
has made Quality condoms
a focal point of her campaign.

That Anthony ******,
he of modest demeanor,
would be happy to model t'is plain.

As a Lesbian, Quinn
doesn't care for what's in
The condoms she touts on campaign.

If abstinence matters
put her face on the wrappers
and no one will be glad that they came.
Christina Quinn, Democratic candidate for Mayor of New York City and a lesbian, is campaigning on the issue of the quality of the condoms that NYC distributes free to school kids. She demands better quality condoms!
 Apr 2018 quinn silverman
aslan
My friend told me

When he was little

He wanted nothing more

Than to be a cigarette

When he grew up.

When I asked him why,

He told me

It was because his mother

Loved nothing more

Than cigarettes,

That she was always

Too busy for him

But never too busy

For her next drag.

When she was upset

She would turn to her cigarettes,

Tipping the ashes into

Her porcelain ashtray.

She never played with him

She only smoked.

And when her cancer

Took her away

And he went to live with his dad

I asked him again:

What do you want to be

When you grow up?

This time,

His answer was the bottles.

The bottles his dad

Always seemed to have

In his calloused hands.

His dad held a steady job

For a few years

Until he showed up to work

Hungover.

He lost his job that day

And became violent.

My friend showed up to school

The next day

Covered in bruises,

His eye swollen shut.

He wanted his father’s love

His attention

Even after then

When he was always drunk

And beating the **** out of him.

Even after all these years

With his father

Sharing the same fate as his mother,

He still wants to be

Those cigarettes

And that nasty *** ***.

Everything his parents

Ever loved.
you're worth much more than you think
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