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i Sep 2014
you stole my heart
and you locked it
in a cage, unable
to escape your
dangerous,
disasterous claws.
Annie McLaughlin Dec 2015
She attempted to burn her skin with the mere faucet
But no matter how warm the water became
the only marks on her skin were those previously left
by the hands of the rusty blade - hidden deep within her nightmares

She lay naked on the shower floor
****** legs and ****** arms spread out in front of her
and only she could make out the difference
between her tears and the running water

This child knew in that moment
that her every second on this earth had been a waste.
If only her mother, or the man that claimed to love her
knew just how empty she could feel
they would surely want no part in her disasterous real

So she lay down in the shower
as the water ran cold
and prayed for it drown her
with the small hope that there was still a God to show
ashley Mar 2013
you know,
when you're younger,
you think boys are icky.
mean boys that push you
in the sand on the playground,
stupid boys that call
you names
and make fun of you for
being a '*****.'

when you're younger,
you think girls have cooties.
silly girls that play
on the swings
and talk about
the wind,
girls you try to avoid
at all costs.

but once you grow up
and stop being so small,
you come to realize that
boys are far from icky,
except for the fact
that they still pick their
noses and chew
with their mouths full;
and girls are far
from having cooties,
unless you consider
STD's as cooties, these days.

now,
girls and boys
are attracted to each other
by an unmistaken force,
one that's so strong
it feels like a magnet
is conjoining the both
of you.

or at least,
that's what they claim.

but really,
our generation is
obsessed with the
facination
of being rebellious,
of not caring about the rules,
or doing what they want
whenever they want.
we're obsessed with
the motto that
having *** at 16,
getting drunk at parties,
and doing drugs
is okay.

the problem?
we'll never know.
everyone will always
have different thoughts,
views, opinions
on how our generation
came to be as
disasterous as it is:
the media: music videos,
movies; the music,
what kinds of messages
rappers are conveying
in their songs;
but no matter
what we think
or what we say,
we'll never know.

we're the kids
your parents
warned you about --
or rather, didn't.

nowadays,
losing your virginity
is becoming something
of a contest to see
who can lose it first,
who can get this girl
laid, who can
sleep with the most
girls in their entire school.
today, girls are willing
to lose it, all because they're
under pressure, or being
influenced by the wrong
crowd.

nowadays,
going to ravid parties
and having
'a few drinks'
is something to celebrate.
"come on, have a drink,"
and even if they don't want one,
even if they don't want
to accept,
they somehow get convinced
otherwised.
then 'just a few drinks'
turns into a rollercoaster
that gets you spiraling
out of the earth's
gravitational control.
your mind goes haywire
and you might even do
something you never imagined
you'd do. all because of
'a few drinks.'

nowadays,
rolling a blunt
and smoking ****
is something
everyone does;
if you don't smoke,
if you aren't a stoner,
then you're considered
'abnormal,' or 'odd,'
or even 'weird.'
roll a blunt,
pass it around,
take a hit
or two
or three,
until it feels like your
soul is being detached
from your body,
floating into the
horizon,
being swallowed by
darkness,
vanishing into the
atmosphere.

nowadays,
everyone's
trying to **** themselves
from the harsh words
being thrown at them
like daggers to the heart.
everyone's
cutting themselves,
a temporary way
to solve a problem
that seems
incapable of living through.



nowadays,
no one has any respect
for themselves.
no one cares
if they don't get into
a decent college;
most don't even go.
no one cares
if alcohol is
causing them to become
addicts;
they disregard the signs
completely.
no one cares
if smoking ****
or doing drugs
is illegal;
now, they'll
expose it in the open.
no one cares
how their words
can affect people;
"fat," "ugly.'
they'll call people
***** that are still
virgins.

nowadays,
our generation
has turned into
something to be avoided,
an example of how bad
the world can become.


a.m.
Buzz  Jan 2014
The Polluted World
Buzz Jan 2014
Waking up seems like a futile effort to me.
To be in this realm, such a pity for all mortals.
As to one day, all of them will suffer the fate
of the unlucky ones.

Oh, how the world is polluted nowdays.
Mayhem, mayhem, and more mayhem.
Corruption, bloodbaths and destruction
for the race to see which is the alpha-male.
In the end, it is the survival of the most deceitful.

In the end, I am still on my bed.
My bones ache while my muscles creak.
Waking up is still a futile effort to me.
Sheilding from the disasterous world using my comfy blanket,
seems like a good idea.
But, if all of us were to slumber,
than who will straighten things out?

I arise and go,
to face the polluted world.
There, my legacy awaits
as another **** sapien.
That will uphold the truth
as all if us are responsible,
of how polluted the world is.
dear daddy,
you won't recognize that title for a
few more months still, but yet it is me.
this is "your baby"!
i can recognize your voice, though.
just this morning, i asked mommy, "where's my daddy?" mommy said, "i'm not even sure."
she then explained to me about you helping 'america'
put out a disasterous fire.

"memo of love"

i am writing to tell you that i care...
let's get to know each other better.
this morning, i showered a brilliant sunrise
with all the colors of the rainbow into your eyes,
hoping to get your attention. but you hardly noticed!
that afternoon, as you sat with your friends, i warmed you in sunshine...
flowers still blooming with God's love. yet, you didn't notice me!
i wanted to speak with you so i shook the world
with my heart of wonder and made you a beautiful rainbow.
yet, you never noticed me!
tonight, i tried desperately to move you with a full moon
to lighten your sad face and a cool breeze to delight you.
you wouldn't believe your eyes, unless you heard it from me...
i even put you and mommy's star out,
hoping to see a warming smile upon your face
you never looked up!
in your sleep, i gave you
your dreams so lovely that a smile then appeared on your face.
i was amazed!
i'm here to watch over you, to guide you,
to reassure mommy, and to love you.
when you are ready for me,
please remember i'm waiting for you, in the care of mommy's love
for the both of us!!!
she loves you daddy-
and take care, i'll be watching you!!!

love, your little one,
"your baby"

1988

COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
MyThousandWords Jan 2011
We go through the cycle,
exhausting ourselves with apologies over
feelings we're not supposed to have.

We numbly pick up the sharp, jagged
pieces of our broken hearts
and mindlessly wipe up the blood.

We inhale and take in the aroma
of one another, a haunting scent
reminding us how to feel.

And we share all the torn, tattered pieces
of our disasterous days, because facing
them together reminds us it's real.

We push the boundary,
we cross the line.
We take a punch to the gut and a stab to the heart
one more time.

This masochistic charade,
a constant temptation
to get high on sensation,
forever plaguing our fragile hearts and feeble minds.
jeffrey conyers Apr 2013
Loving you.
I apologize not.
For I'm sincere about doing it to you.

You've been everything I requested in my life.
So I apologize not for loving you.

If we should ever depart.
No negative words with come from my heart.
For at one time in my eyes.
You was a great example of a shining star.

Belive me.
No disasterous poems.
No get back at you book.

Cause I hold you highly after all the harm.
But we still together.
So I apologize not for loving you.

You're the dream.
That jumped from my imagination.
A total joy to know.
And of course to love.

So I apologize not.
No way.
No how.
Martin Narrod May 2016
We're weathering this unbecoming world of words. In the womby vortex of disgusting speech. We're not the movement in which your mouth commoves in disgusting misuse and hellacious abuse. Shame on you! We're already sickened by your pageantry and similar symbolism, simile, and pedantic matters of the hand. Someone should have stopped you. Your shoes don't fit and are rather unflattering. We're well rested Reader's of the greater digest and your context is unsuitably off. We've noted this recipe of disasterous dactyls and abhorrent lines that masquerade limerick like a proverb when it ought not be an idiom. We're weary to walk in your idiot-dom, your startlingly stark choice of anti-matter, and material of unsettling misuse so indigestibally obtuse. She says you've manufactured passages with verbose tapestries of word laxatives. We're unimpressed by how many fuxks you've given. Lessons like these are earned not given, not learned but lived. We're not meant to cure your ails, only forward your adjectives, and collect your mail.
sycokitten  Nov 2011
Blue
sycokitten Nov 2011
weak willed, i listen to the collision of manic thoughts that resurface like a neverending disease whenever you are mentioned.*

blue..*

the whirl of memorys start, and in the mass hysteria of mental chaos i feel my fingers slip over the keys to write to you. of what is not important. simply a few meaningless words will set me up above the clouds in a serene distant state. the promise of that momentary bliss is enough to keep my reasonable side hidden away... she'll come out later, and when she comes so will the negative ideas. the "why did i say thats", and "what is he thinkings" all of which will riot through the clouds ripping them apart until i fall and smash back into newly cold reality.

of course by then the conversation will have ended and i wont know what you think of the crazed words i somehow managed to smash into thoughts that sounded like sentences at the time, but now look like the disasterous scribbled rought draft of a 5th grade report over an unknown topic.

so with the last of my resolve i hold down the backspace key until all of the mangled writing is gone. you of course have no knowledge of this inner turmoil because i never hit enter.. i tell myself thats for the best but im not sure if i believe that, then again if you lie to yourself long enough you can believe anything. so why not, it's only survival..
Madeline Oct 2011
let's hear it for
    these angsty
         weepy poems
from our broken hearts
  well
      maybe we should
pretty boys
      and pretty girls
we forget
   all of us
how fragile we are
     let's
         isolate ourselves
            in our feelings
(they hurt)
   when we forget ourselves
and love
    too hard
and miss
    too much
and want
    too suddenly
without knowing
   just how deep
we're digging ourselves
      when it hits, it hurts
our words
  are our
    defense
we mean them
i mean them
                   for you.
It's worth it, this
                       fragility
for our childish bliss
     in reckless, disasterous
                                                      abandon.
jeffrey conyers Oct 2012
Somethings, we can easily do.
But it also takes a strong will too.
If words you said.
Offended someone.
Then it might take times for them to forgive someone.

If an adulterous affair created strives.
Then you already know forgiveness won't happen over night.
Some apologies are too little, too late.
Similar to a disasterous date.

The one that requested it.
Or set it up.
Can over their apologies.
Still, with many things in life.
We know it too little, too late.

— The End —