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Ray  Oct 2014
Word Vomit
Ray Oct 2014
Friday night apartment visits dressed in bed sheets
with safety pins scraping against bare backs
center stage: the hookah, the piles of *****,
and always you
this is where it all began I think, pointing to a wall, a floor
I pour another drink, the floodgates fail
I can no longer stare and bite my tongue like before
the words spew out one by one

I love you
I'm going to get that ******* main floor apartment downtown and
it'd be so ******* rad if I woke up to you every morning
and I could write about how we ****** six times before class and
how your eyes were a new shade of green on October 14th and
how I think sometimes you aren't actually real or
how I think you made a huge mistake picking me
another shot

I love you
I just wish I was a dancer and yes I'm crying about it
because the way you make me feel can't even be put into words
let alone on paper
I just want to writhe around a room for half an hour
and show you how my mind feels on saturday afternoons in your arms
oh why can't my body do the talking for once
another shot

I love you
Lets just spend the rest of tomorrow in bed, **** what I said
maybe **** me too if you want
I'd be okay with anything really lets sleep, lets stare at a wall
lets talk about our dreams and how I didn't see you coming at all
just give me something good to write about
once I somehow manage to get away from you and back home

I love you
don't let me go back home
undesxred  Mar 2015
undesxred Mar 2015
That’s how I’ll start it.
A simple goodbye should suffice for all of the years I’ve been diminishing into the darkness.
Nobody seems to notice the way I carry myself anymore.
I think it’s funny because when I’m gone I know they will envision me as their best friend.
They will explain how I never showed any signs and I was such a nice girl.
They don’t know me.
Nobody does.
Only he who vowed to keep my secrets.
Only he who vowed to keep his promises.
He won’t find out until it’s much too late that I’m actually gone this time.
Not just figuratively anymore. This time I’m gone and there’s no going back.
No more am I a contradiction of dead but still alive.
I am now dead on the outside just as much as I am on the inside.
Let me apologize before I say goodbye.
Let me tell you I wish I could’ve made you proud.
Let me tell you how lousy I feel.
But don’t pity me.
I’ve spent too long taking pity on myself for you to do the same.
Know now that I love you.
I love you like a butterfly loves the sunlight.
And I say my apologies in regret to inform you of the terrible life I have led.
Please, I beg you, please.
Live your life.
Enjoy yourself.
Grab the bull by the horns and hang on.
It’ll be the time of your life.
Kathleen Mar 2011
I’m obsessed with drowning you out,
of pushing your head under water
of choking the life out of this,
for fun.
For kicks to the ground,
for rocks in the gutter,
for some desperate need I have to ruin you,
to ruin this,
to **** it before it kills me.
Ray Sep 2014

Fiddling thumbs
I didn't read that
I didn't hear that


it'll be okay right
crank the tunes and stare at a blank sky
no cloud in sight


I'll be okay right?
they like me right?
I'm not alone right?


it won't be the same
it can't be the same
no no no no no

Odi Feb 2013
Men who look like ferris wheels
every color representing different aspects of their personality

The first three words don't have to be beautiful
they just have to make sense
like connecting dots on paper

men who love with their fists
and hate with their mouths
who once were boys taking things apart
like remote controls their own fathers used to beat     Obedience into their small bodies.  Left them with a fury tattooed across their hearts
Just to give them the challenge of putting themselves back together

They buy their wive's flowers after
a four day bruise isn't so glaringly purple anymore
not so accusing-
kiss her broken ribs
and tell their children midnight stories

children trained as mood detectors
human robots
know when to shutup
speak when you are spoken to*

Men who speak like cutting boards
Every slice of the knives in their toungues leave
hollow aching missing parts
just to teach their children that not all
things can be put together once taken apart

whose daughter glues together the parts of old telephones
to spite the missing pieces
so every welt he beats into her bones
she sings herself unbroken
until she stands robust and imperfect
there are holes in her armour
but she holds it together

with her fathers fists.
Jackie McMahon Feb 2010
If I wrote a symphony, who would hear me?
If I wrote a book, would you take a look?
I don’t understand the constant novel of out lives,
the narration of our thoughts.
I don’t understand how you see life or how you see me.
The poetic discord that is our thoughts, the cymbals of our lives crashing together
do people think the way
I do? Surely, but who?

The fascination that comes
Could it ever be undone?
I’m confused on how I breathe, just being me,
I can’t escape the constant beating of my mind
my heart would skip a beat
if my pen did not teach me how to breathe.

And I’d like very much to..
Go through life as a paintbrush,
sending color to the darkness and the light,
to make a beautiful mess of this place.
To paint closed eyes open to a world that I can see,
to bring this vision out from inside of me.

But I don’t
Want to scare you with how I think
The monster consumes the air I breathe is ink.
Exhaling words on to paper that surrounds me
the chaos that controls my hands and lifts my feet
and takes me on a ride,
never far enough away from this constant I create.
This wonderland of absence to the fake.
My dreams make more sense when I’m sleeping
it gets hard to tell when I’m awake, even then I can’t help but shake. Trembling monster inside me, can’t hide me.
I’m lost. But I’d rather not find me.
Out loud

I’ll write it all down,
trying to match the rhythm of my hand to the pulsating thoughts in my brain.
Does anyone feel this way?
I’d like to show you…
I’m bleeding. Dripping. Painting a scene.
Oh, I’m painting a scene.
Its SO LOUD I wish it would SHUTUP
Shutup and let me breathe, I am painting, painting a scene.

Step into my eyes, I dare you.
I wrote this, so please don't take it.
The Dedpoet Aug 2016
You, hands above your head,
Turn around, no sudden movements.

Black man:
Officer I......


Shutup, on your knees, hands behind,
Your head!

Blackman: Sir I....


   Shut the **** up! (Taser pointed)
-Handcuffs the black man -

Now, what did you want to say sir?
This is reality.
Why do we value love?
Why are we incomplete?
If there is a God I hate him.
I feel cheap.
One half of a puzzle,
With no ******* piece.
Waiting for the fit of key to lock,
In a day never to be.

When I was young I could smile and mean it.
Now I’m old and its all fake.
Now I’m deaf and I can’t take it.
Now I’ve lost brothers, friends, mothers,
Now I’m mature.
And its not fair.
Its life, simply put,
A mistake.

It would be different if I wasn’t so self aware.
My greatest critic myself.
My cursed brilliance always looking, always finding,
Something new to hate, something else not perfect,
Never right, never good enough,
But never intent enough to change.

Self Destruction in the most cruel of ways,
I don’t even believe in belief,
Or in vision or faith.
It only goes lower,
Setting up myself higher,
For even greater pains.

I know your thinking,
Be happy it could be worse.
You could be a kid in Africa,
Starving or hurt.
Your naïve shutup.
You know it all freak.
What is worse say I,
To be starved in the body,
Or in heart and soul.

For the whip of the universe,
To caress your body,
Or break what it can’t take.
I belong to no one,
I am only mine.
But this is not a gift,
It’s a curse,
Of a unique unremedy,
Wherein I shall lie for eternity.
- From Birds Flying Into The Eclipse Of Mars
Odi  Jan 2012
If only
Odi Jan 2012
If* only you were a little less bent
Like, a little less hollow

"If only you would just! stop! thinking!
For once
You must be tired
Its like you're wired!

And like, your're way too cynical
Sarcastic, witty sure, but that's just
Arrogance, you think your're better-
than- Oh wait look at that hot guy,
his name is Brent-
Wait, wait

Now, what was it I was saying-
Yeah your'e like way too
cold, puts people off
Your're disarming...
No wait-I meant alarming

I mean smile, for once
Laugh at a joke!
Talk to the guys,
Gosh, you don't even ****!
-All you do is mope,
I mean seriously c'mon
I'm trying to be nice
You have such potential!-"

-"shutup you dumb *****."
Jay Jimenez  Jan 2013
Jay Jimenez Jan 2013
girl you in danger
bad as a power ranger
understand i got a fever
phil collins
in the air tonight
your body goes back forward sideways
bout to send your *** back to college
for your major she says
oo you so sauve
i go you go both ways
more foreplay
have her hittin dolphin notes
no boat or a yacht
but im renting out this one place
and if your down id like to take your mans place
she says just shutup dont ruin the moment
matilda shaye Jan 2015
our palms and shins hit the floor, hard
the sound of our bones hitting the wood
echoes and your face shows the pain
you look at me, I look at you
a bandaid, yes, no, an ice pack
our spines and tailbones hit the grass, hard
the sound of our nervous whispers and
the lighter flickers through the night
your face shows your nerves
you look at me and unfold
I start to spiral out of control
but I attempt to keep my cool
I'm wearing 4 layers you'd think it
wouldn't be this hard but hey, it usually is
our lips hit eachother, hard
and then my lips hit your neck
and your lips hit my shoulder
and my shoulder hits your stomach
and your stomach touches mine
the sound of your breathing,
my breathing, sighs, sheets, skin on skin
you're whispering my name so quietly
my ear comes off and stretch out to your
mouth so they can hear more of you
our backs hit the bed, hard
and now you're on top of me
the sounds of the last time we fell fill
the air and you say something about
finally and I say something about don't
jinx this and we both shutup
and listen to the moment
the sound of the moment finds its way
through your bedroom door and sits on
the chair next to your queen size mattress
our heads and our hearts fall out of our
bodies and find their way to
each other on the cold tile floor
the sound of desperate crawling
fills the room and we look at each other
time will never, ever be on your side, you said
no amount of luck or stitches could save me now
my hand cups your cheek and you close your eyes
one day
everything's going to be okay
one day
it will be okay
I'm trying to find my way back to my skin.

— The End —