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Arcassin B  May 2014
"HURT"
Arcassin B May 2014
BY ARCASSIN BURNHAM




i CAN not stand your face,
your number ill erase,
cause i cant take it nomore,
cause i cant take it nomore,

you cheated on me twice,
and now you wanna be nice,
can not be with you nomore,
can not be with you nomore,

cant believed i loved you,
more than what i wanted too,
can not deal with it nomore,
can not deal with it nomore,

i have a habit to love,
and you have a habit of being a scrub,
you hurt me babe
you hurt me babe,

she says i cant believe i loved you
and having habit to love,
but she wasnt there for me,
like you were,
your the only thing ive ever known,
since we were kids,
and i love you,
for as long as i live.
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2013/12/hurt.html
So, Mr Nimoy,
Your time has finally come,
Your long and prosperous life is done,
And now your being typecast in a better place.
Nomore will you voyage through space,
Or sing those silly songs on youtube.
It was always your tube, Nimoy,
When you paced the bridge of the Enterprise.  
Now you've been beamed up for good,
And your first officer's log is closed.
Obituary poem for Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015).
Anshita Mehrotra Sep 2015
every ******* thing you said to me is hidden in the syllables of your name;
and every time i call out for you it all comes back rushing over me
like a storm;
it feels like electricity snipping onto every inch of my skin
seconds of pleasure;
a thousand minutes of pain
-but its worth it when you look back at me and i can see you feel the same.
natalie  Feb 2018
#nomore
natalie Feb 2018
"i'd rather die," i say, with your fist pressed to my cheek
               "i need you here," you say, as you cry...
                                  my face is bleak.
PEARL SMOKE  Sep 2014
nomore
PEARL SMOKE Sep 2014
Even Though IDont Want
the Drug.
it Still Roams
still Comes Along
makes Me Feind
without me Even Thinking About iT
iHate it
How This Cycle Just Makes iTs Way
it Makes Me Sad
believe me, iDo Try Hard
to Not think about it
let it come to my mind.
but it just makes its way to my brain.
im tired of this.
jennifer ann  Sep 2014
dope
jennifer ann Sep 2014
i just want to close my tired eyes,
and fly away.
dazed, amazed, i peacefuly gaze into space.
getting lost in purple haze,
i dream of better days.

floating on air,
nomore pain, or dispaire.
i dont care at all.
i just want to smile for a little while.
and blissfuly bounce off of these four walls.
taijarea darius  Oct 2013
eyes
taijarea darius Oct 2013
How beautiful .
Your eyes I mean.
they can see the real and right past the fake.
Your eyes dreamy.
yet looking in them all i can think of is thoughts of lust.
Must you look at me that way eyes that say come ****.
How seductive.
Are you from a island ?
can you tell me.
where?
so I can meet a girl that has eyes just like them.
Well boys and girls wonder nomore I'm from a place like heaven where the sun never stops shinning and the waters warm. Where woman are queens draped in jewelry.  
Animals run freely.
But don't be content .
I'm homeless when there's no one to look upon .
That's when days grow long and lonely.
See I'm a strong believer that eyes are the window to the soul.
So lets gaze into each other eyes until there is nomore secrets, read me like an open book but as you turn the pages make sure your gentle.
you might just see my Skeltons.
**** it we all have sinned.
But unlike you I don't care who sees them.
Maria Imran Aug 2015
people so passionate,
their hearts thrumming against their chests
as new ideas play their flutes
and the visions of their imagined golden outcomes
lift their feet to the skies.
dreams
gleam in their eyes
and words fall from their mouths so easily: the earth is their pillow.
they need not fear the world because the world fears them.
while i,
on the other end,
put my head on my knees and cry by the unknowing river
because the butterfly i had once sheltered in the cave of my stomach
has died of dark and doesn’t flutter.
Banita khanal Apr 2016
I don’t fight with Parkinson's
I live with it,
I have Parkinson's
and Parkinson's do have me,
I don’t hate Parkinson's
I want to fall in love with it,
We aren’t each other's enemy
We are the soul mates;

I born with each step of my leg
then I die
I born again with the another step
then I die
so my life is just about a foot step;

I don’t think about the distance I need to walk
I think about the step I take

I nomore struggle to get rid of parkinsons
rather I try to adjust

I have accepted it
I respect myself for it

I don’t hate parkinsons
I want to fall in love with it
I have Parkinsons disease
Jwala Kay  Jun 2014
Respected Sir
Jwala Kay Jun 2014
Am I just a flaunting fancy
specified set of alphabets?

Now listen, sir!
My brain has owned you
a long while back
like say, a hundred times.
But ya, my mouth
is zipped for the
Terms and Conditions
I signed to intern here.
My heart is a masked
Superhero that goes
for the needy and
the helpless, while
yours just desires
to sit in the next
luxurious sedan out.
My body serves
for the nation;
no, not in war
but in the agony of being
a good citizen when things
(like you) are nomore right.
I manned up instead of you.
I can prove my worth
to the world w/o you.

Again, I shall repeat, sir!
Am I just a flaunting fancy
specified set of alphabets?
I am more than my name.
I am definitely, more human than you.
SaeIt  Aug 2017
Scarred
SaeIt Aug 2017
Im short really short
The smallest of them all
I remember being higher
The tallest of the tall

I was too shy at first
To even be set up for the fall
Until they came along
And gave me somebody to call

Every single heartbreak
Cuts off a few inches
Wasnt enough left for a full repair
All they could do was stitch me

Hurt too familiar
It became so persistent
Hoping that you would realize your wrong
And start to miss me

You're not around nomore
So now i hurt from a distance
You don't love me today
I wish you would be more consistent

I hate I took all the drugs
Of your hugs and your kisses
Cause now I'm all messed up
Have to get a doctor to fix me

So That's enough for me
I don't want nomore please
Numb to all the pain now
So they cut me off at the knees

Body messed up
Heart turned to stone
It don't make it no better
That I can't walk on my own
Fizza Abbas Apr 2015
My musings always pun me through a wide range of vividly exulted grimaces. I think like an ***, act like an ***, assassan-ing a conjugal of my mind and soul. 'Why', my only friendly foe stares at me, giving out a roar of laughter as if I'm his slave. He seeks pleasures by caging me in his castle where beauty meets an imperfection, heart rejoices with brain, and imagination treats a trick. When I peek through the orifice, the wreckage of my wrong decisions welcome me gleefully. My devilish side gets overwhelmed by such a warm welcome. It asks for more cutting out the pinions of my angelic side.

Ah! Clipped wings-------No wings!

Soon, devilish side overthrows my angelic side usurping a ******* over me. It collapses my self-esteem, laying entwined in the arms of my ego. Ahh! I combat, show the feats of courage but, a mistake became a lifetime regret. I put off my veil of courage for a second to pacify myself. Now, I'm all naked from head to toe. In the mean time, my opponent injure me by an arrow of self-pity. I, I AM destroyeDD. No shelter. No armor. No cloak. I'm NOMore. I try to find a lost-me but lose a remaining part of me. I try more, I lose a part again. The more I try, the more I lose. Now, I'm physically a non-existent but my soul still wanders. My soul still pursues the answers. My soul is in desolation. My soul tries to comfort himself but stops as someone whispers,


'Great things never come from comfort zones'
(An unconcerned-illusionary-truth fooled my soul, Badass soul!)

Now, my soul wants to re-surrect in a way that he get his body again. My soul imagines the days when his gestures were heard by the body terming as ****** gestures. My soul enlivens his morale, wears a smile but, still seems incomplete. Once, my soul finds a body but can't find a place in it. It is preoccupied by another soul. When my soul asks for a companionship, it denies. My soul is not even in a state where it can make sly innuendos. He still feels those oblique marks, disparaging comments, shadowing hîs path. Those feels still make him sweating out bullets. My soul finds a body whose soul is longing to depart. My soul rejoices thinking that this is something what he wants. Soon, my soul houses in a ****** paradigm of a lady. My soul gives a new life to the lady. Her spirits are high, and confidence is a multiple of her spirits. My soul elates, leaving an olive branch. My soul befriends her body. She is a merry-go-lucky lady but her melancholy changed her. Her bewitching beauty is a plus to her nature. My soul remembers my ugly face and but still send positive vibes my way. After sometime, my soul gets busy with the lady and forgets me. I try to send him signals but he doesn't respond. I try more, still nudges from his side. I forget my soul too. When I feel lonely in my grave, I wander here and there. I try to befriend the people resting in other graves, I fail. All graves are scented with the perfumes of love, which their beloved spray on them.They are brimmed with the gags of laughter, murmurs of joys, and clicks of wonders. My heart still throbs for my soul, and I. over and over again.

— The End —