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Riot  Apr 2014
amanda
Riot Apr 2014
One two three four
Turn around and shut the door
Five six seven eight
You say you love me
But now it's too late…
amanda
my never ending story begins here.
when i was in 7th grade
i would go on webcam with my friends
so i could meet and and talk to new people
and the compliments did not end…
then…
someone said
“show me a little more of your beauty”
i was in seventh grade
nieve i didn’t care
then 1 year later
a facebook message told me
that picture is still there
amanda
the man who sent this message to me
new everything about me
how he got that information
i don’t know
but on christmas break
i didn’t think anything of it
it was too late
for him to do anything
my life was great
but a knock knock knock at 4 am
change the way i felt
my picture was sent to everyone
i felt like i was in hell
this lead to anxiety
all the time i tried to hide me
amanda
didn’t want to go out in summer
because i knew that mistake would find me
amanda
and it did
it found me in different substances and alcohol
my anxiety got worse than it ever was before  
a year past and the man sent me the list of my new school and friends
just when i thought the torcher would end
but it got worse
this time it was a facebook page
the picture of my “beauty” was his profile
i
amanda
cried every night
lost my friends and respect again
walked down the hall being called names
being judged
again
i would never get that photo back
it was out there forever
so i started to cut
and i promised myself never
i had no friends
sat at lunch alone
so i moved schools again
just to be alone
but it was better this time
a month later i started talking to an old friend
he was a guy
we texted back and forth
and it was kinda nice
but then it got better
and he said he liked me
but he had a girlfriend
but he still liked me
so one day he said
“come over, my gf is away”
so like the teenager i was
i
amanda
made a mistake
we
got together
i thought he liked me
but just like every other
that mistake found me
one week later he texted me
amanda
saying
“get out of your school amanda ”
his gf and fifteen others came to find me
amanda
her and to other just stood there and said nobody liked me
amanda
a guy said in the background
“just punch her already”
so she did
she threw me to the ground
and punched me
amanda
over and over again
but the worst part was it was taped
and i was left there
alone
amanda
a joke in this world
nobody deserved this
this hurt of the world
i lied and said it was my fault
that i told him to do it
i didn’t want him to get hurt
and it’s no different if they put me through it
because i thought he liked me
amanda
there was one person in the world
who like me
but he just wanted what i could give him
so i just layed in a ditch all day
feeling like nothing was right
until my dad found me
and brought me home that night
i wanted it to be over
i wanted to stop the pain
so when i got home i drank bleach
and thought the pain would go away
it killed me inside but not out
so the ambulance came
and saved me
but i was still dead without a doubt
because on facebook
they said
she deserved it
i hope AMANDA is dead
and i tried so hard but i couldn’t get those words out of my head
and i didn’t want to press charges so i changed schools instead
i
amanda
just wanted to move on
but i was being tagged with pictures of bleach on facebook
how could i
they wanted me gone
i
amanda
a person
made a mistake
and on my story video
the comments
i could not take
the last words i read were
darwin at it’s best
but i’m just amanda
no more perfect than the rest
solenn fresnay Nov 2012
A six heures trente- neuf ce matin le grand sourire et un peu trop de blush sur la joue gauche
J'ai senti qu'entre nous deux un léger décalage dans les pratiques professionnelles il y avait
Je n'ai pas su déterminer quel nombre exact de cuillères à café je devais mettre pour l'équivalent d'une cafetière pleine
J'en ai mis six
Il n'en fallait que deux
A midi moins deux minutes nous n'avions toujours pas fini nos toilettes
Il ne restait plus une goutte d'eau, juste des amas de mousse anti-cancer qui s'entassaient là à même le sol, noyés par des milliards de fourmis portant sur leurs dos trop courts des litres de caillots de sang
Le pire c'est le cancer de la vessie, on dirait de la porcelaine, j'osais à peine vous toucher, vous m'excusez?
En attendant le prochain voyage pour la planète cancer j'ai tartiné mon pain de confiture de groseilles, ou était-ce de la prune ?
Peu importe, je ne me sentais pas très bien et je voulais boire le sang de ma propre mère en prenant soin de m'étouffer avec ses quelques caillots restants, en hommage à ses quelques non-dits d'une vie plus que passée et depuis longtemps oubliée
Comme dans la cour d'école, vous ne m'avez pas choisi et j'ai senti que mes jambes me lâchaient
NE FAIRE QUE COMME VOUS ET ÉLIRE DOMICILE DANS VOTRE CAGE D'ESCALIER
J'ai dit "encombré", vous m'avez corrigée et ouvrez les guillemets, je cite: "Pas encombré, mais dyspnéique, cela s'appelle de la dyspnée"
CONN-ASSE
Je me suis appuyée contre le mur, vous ai simplement souri et tout n'allait pas trop bien avec mon blush en surdosage
Les mots étaient là coincés au travers de ma glotte, impossibles à sortir, je ne vous trouvais plus, vous ai simplement servi un café dans une petite tasse en ayant au préalable pensé y cracher toute ma morve dedans
CONNASSE, ON DIT PEUT ETRE DYSPNEIQUE ET PAS ENCOMBRE MAIS QUI DIT QUE TEL PATIENT EST P-SSSY A TOUT BOUT DE CHAMP CA VEUT DIRE QUOI D'AILLEURS ETRE P-SSSY SURTOUT QUAND ON VA CREVER?
Putain, j'ai rien pu dire du tout jusqu'au yaourt aux fruits rouges
Mes seules paroles formulées ne furent pas prises au sérieux et mon salaire ne fut plus qu’une avalanche de vers de terre en pente descendante
Comme un tel visage dépoussiéré et quelques centimètres d'un seul poumon à la surface de vos quatre-vingt trois printemps
Mais que nous reste-t-il donc à vivre ?
La tumeur est là bien visible et vous empêche de parler, presque, de respirer
Vous perdez la tête
Nous perdons la tête
Mais qu'avez-vous donc fait pour mériter telle souffrance?
Chaque nuit le même rêve d'un père que je tue de mes propres mains bouffées par la vermine
De là je l'entends geindre et ses draps sont tachés de sang mais je continue de courir
Je cours encore
Je cours toujours
Je ne sais faire que ça, courir
Je vais m'évanouir
Bon Dieu que je déteste les gens.

Mes cheveux me démangeaient alors dès la sortie des classes je suis allée m'acheter de la compote à la cerise et sur le chemin du retour mes cheveux continuaient à me démanger je les ai donc déposés bien délicatement au fond du caniveau de la rue Edgar Quinet
Je suis nulle, je suis nouille et je travaille à Convention
Et à Convention, vous faites quoi?
Dans le théâtre, je travaille dans le théâtre
Il s'appelle Boris et en fait c'est pas ça du tout
Il n'y avait pas de chauffage chez moi et la femme n'était pas enceinte
Je n'ai jamais rien compris au fonctionnement propre d'un miroir et j'ai mes derniers textes qui attendent d'être classés ainsi que la syntaxe à rafraîchir
Appelez-moi comme vous voulez et arrachez moi toutes mes dents, peu m’importe
J'ai le poste de télévision qui dérive sur la droite
Laissez-moi finir mon chapitre et surtout ne dites à personne ce que je vous ai dit
Oubliez l’écrivaine qui écrit comme elle respire
Je ne fais que torcher des culs comme on emballe des endives, le monde tourne à l'envers, le bateau coule, c'est la crise, non l'escroquerie pardon, te souviens-tu du jour où tu as rêvé...
Prendre un paquebot à l'amiante et t'envoler pour la planète Néant
N'oubliez jamais que peut-être demain matin de votre lit vous ne pourrez plus parler car durant une nuit sans fin votre tête rongée par la culpabilité aura été tranchée
Je sens je pisse encore du sang et ma vie n'est plus qu'un cargo à la dérive
Baissez donc le rideau et laissez-moi, vous m'avez assez emmerdé pour aujourd'hui.

.../...

Je l'ai vraiment tué ?

.../...

Je ne sais plus
Alors j'ai avalé les derniers débris de glace
Il respirait encore quand je suis partie
J'ai chié dans mon jean troué aux deux genoux et j'ai simplement continué de courir.
Brandon Navarro  Aug 2014
Rainbow
Brandon Navarro Aug 2014
We are groups of people
made to hate
because of who we love
not what we stand for.
Did no one listen to
your parents?
You treat others how you want to be treated
not
throwing beer bottles
and whining when it misses their head
not
coming at them with a knife
because a man is holding a man's hand.
We are taught as kids
being gay isn't okay.
You could be a murderer
but you can't love another man.
Why?
Why
can't I love who I love.
People would rather
have a man dying alone
in the hospital
because his boyfriend of 35 years
isn't his husband
than letting love flourish.
People would rather **** us off
than understand.
People would have broken homes
where kids come home to beatings
their head shoved in an oven
*****
molested
beaten to a pulp
cigars burned out on their arms
and hit with beer bottles to
the point of being broken
than to let a happily loving couple of two men
to have that child.
They would rather see
a red sea of bodies
than to allow us
to live.
People would rather say
"******"
"fruitcake"
"***"
"fairy"
and watch their child slit his wrist
for every time he looks at a man
and feels a twinge of love
than to let him be happy.
They would rather torcher and torment children to the point
of mental breakdowns
rushing blood
soar throats
living alone
on the streets
no love
pretending.
Than to let them be them.
People love purple
that it means freedom
but I like the rainbow.
Rainbows have a million colours
and not one colour is quite the same hue.
No one hates rainbows
or the gorgeous colours it has.
Not many notice the differences
of them so,
why can't everyone
treat other people
like we're rainbows?
jeffrey conyers Jul 2018
Any slave that escape bring him back and torcher him.
Strange, but mostly true were slave masters mentality.

So it's amazing, we still, have these slave matters today.
Oh, I forgot, we call them business owners of professional teams.

Who?
Have dictated to their slaves?
I'm sorry players.
What required of them?
When the national anthem is played?
Oh, yes it's America.
And we have the first amendment as freedom of speech.

You BETTER stand during the playing of the national theme.
No choice!
Yes, your master has spoken.
You better listen?

Wait!
Do the players realize the power they posse?
Unions, years ago brought manufactures of product to a halt to settle deals.

Players, especially the National Football League African Americans can HALT any season from being played?
Power in numbers.

Who?
Would be hurt?
The masters of the slaves.
They business owners.
Many locked into deals with a various organization to make a profit.

Cities, the economy will suffer.
All those tax breaks that cities cheaply gave to get the team.
All those soda, food businesses that make money during athletic seasons.

Sure, you lose some fans than many are like fair weather friends.
When winning, they there.
When suffering you can't begin to see them.

In modern time, the slaves have the power.
Oh, my fault, the players has the strength.
And forget about threats from THIS president.

Years, ago.
He played the owner of a franchise in a sub-par league.P
Probably, still holding a grudge cause we see many present owners gathering up to him.

And, what if?
The NBA players throw ALL their support to their fellow group.
Heck, imagine the thunderstorm of losses.

Only ones safe is the baseball owners.
The odds of these players supporting them is slim.
And that based mainly on the racial hue.

So just think of the power that players got in the NFL/NBA?
The steps to the museum were many ,
as you helped me up the  steps ,
views to every room every living ***** of me .

You bought a program,
you called it art !

one chair in the gallery ,
my heart behind the glass ,
no paintings of fine art on display .
My heart a Spector ,
lies a ghost behind the wall ,
to burn ,
torcher ,
leave on the rack !
only then

and so might it bleed ?

It’s blood flowed down from traitors gate ,
I ate bread, long had it gone stale ,
for you judgements axe hung above me ,
and for once was about to fall .
Deaths daughter her crimson lips  did I touch .

A traitor ? not I .
A herotic maybe ,
for her touch was like no other ,
her words so beautiful your truth I could not see ,
though angels surrounded me with locks and keys ,
their sorrows tell .

Give me a field of bluebells and butterflies ..... and all will be well .

We walked down the steps the doors bolted behind ,
as evening cought the suns light high on chimney tops as
my heart found capture in you’re smile .
All the power in one hand  
The hand not of God but of a man, a fellow man  
ultimate power is their aim    
Rootless they are , destroy all in the way  to get their went

Freedom of speech, freedom of press, freedom of assemble  
All right and freedom in smokes, there are bugs that are crashed under they feet    
the people have no say but to sit and suffer
                                                                                                                                        
They rule with an iron fist      
holding on to power with all they have  
whatever the cost, even of blood
  if raised up against, they **** they torcher  
                                                                                                                      
Fear and persecution is their ultimate instrument  
the populations dare not speak  
for fear of death and endless  pain  
"rat and cockroaches" are the people under their feet    
                                                                                                                                    
There is job is corruption, there are married to corruption  
Rat they are to them in blackness of knowledge  and hiding in holes
taking all their can and giving noting back .
                                                                                                                                                                                                          
Though the sun going up and down                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Revolutionary cloud hang in the sky ready to let down it rain  
the people shall rise to rebel to be suppressed no more.
Skai  Nov 2015
Untitled
Skai Nov 2015
It's amazing how
not leaving your bed
for 2 days can take a
toll on you.

I've cried more
times than I can
count.

I've imagined
killing myself.

I've remembered
memories.
Ones that I never
want to forget.
And those that I
torcher myself over.

I've made myself
physically sick,
and I haven't eaten.

I blame you.
I blame us.
I blame you for
what I've become.

I wouldn't have been
caught that night if it weren't for
you.

I was with a boy that
distraced myself from
you.

A boy that I dreamed of
hanging out with.

You.
You ruined it.
You ruined me.
You used me.
You took advantage of me.

You said that I shouldn't
distance myself because
it scares you that I might not
come back.

Be ******* afraid.
I'm not attached at your
hip anymore.
I'm free from your grip.

You gave my friend
a death glare because you
hate him.
You hate him because I'm
friends with him,
and I refuse to talk to you.

You're mad because I
smoked my lungs
out with Dylan.
You didn't even ask if
I was okay after I had
been caught.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

I hope you torcher yourself
to the very core
that you lost me.
I hope that it haunts you
that I might not come
back.
I hope that you're
terrified of me hurting
myself.

You live your life,
and I'll live mine.
Built up anger and hurt is not doing me any good right now. I'm too depressed to do anything. Everything hurts.
Eric Babsy  Oct 2018
Acting Liars
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
Acting like an accident waiting to happen.
They unprotected me and left me for dead while I was napping.
Torchered by their lies.
I can see through their hip disguise.

Again they act like the lying cheats they are.
It is to bad they have beaten up old car.
Trying to help them act to torcher.
In the heat another scorcher.

For ***, lies, and video tape.
They can go on “Gilbert’s” grape.
My neighbors lie and so they act self righteous.
Then they then act to destroy my life with no bias.

No one will help.
I am here alone with the enemy about to melt.
That is all I can say.
Maybe one day they will pay!
Mark Tilford Apr 2017
Thinking of you
The night to get through
Thoughts, they are confused
They have consumed
My mind
So many they are not defined
Torcher
So unkind
Why do they, have to remind
The day, of your decline
The day, you left mankind
The day, of leaving me behind
Ending my time
With my partner in crime
Midnight (awake)
At nighttime
In the light shine
Shadows
Not a figment of mind
A sign
That I find
You are here
Can still hear
When I whisper
" my dear "
Midnight (awake)
Laying here
Holding back the tears
Absences of you
Being near
Years
Of waiting
For you to
Magically reappear
Midnight (awake)
Hoping the door opening
To my death is
Near
!!
Midnight, awake
Jeremy Betts Oct 2022
With the flippant fear of a proudly clueless onlooker, another forgettable observer
I stare out over the breaking waves to see if I can't see a few things clearer
In a sense in search of innocents and the essence of this monstrous heckler I've been entrusted to not only tame but conquer
Maybe find bits and pieces of meaning here or there for this opaque character and it's seemingly insignificant blip on life's radar
They say all of our lives are important and as a whole they are, for sure, but A life, singular, doesn't even measure
On a timeline reaching back past the beginning of forever to the outer limits of what we know so far it can't possibly matter
Somewhere in there is an answer but I swear, don't let it be just another jump scare
I can bare no more, take me outta here becomes the newly revised prayer screamed into the ether
I'm not the star here, nor did I properly prepare for the cameo roll in my own B movie disaster picture.
I've done what was asked of me even when not fare, even as the nightmare went unchecked, haunting my every endeavor.
If this is expected to go on for the foreseeable future how much of my downfall am I going to be held accountable for?
Every battle the same as the one before, it can be torcher but y'all clap with the desire for an encore
Like your entertainment and the roar of the crowd is what I'm just barley holding on for
Then the face of an absent father figure puts a untimely hand on my shoulder, a whisper of congrats for making it though yet another war
That's every **** day sir, so excuse me for not going out of my way to carpe any of those diems mother fuucker
At the same time
I was so sure that I was finally able to procure the mindset to endure my own lour
But nobody seemed to eager to tell me that reality is a relentless attention *****
Making sure to hide the shore and provide only a broken ore to navigate a sea of insecure insecurities hell bent on devouring my core
Can't help but to take a little more than a fare share when there's so much dispair and dispair is their preferred flavor
And that's what I'm in store for, give or take some gore just to mitigate the bore
Remove all signs of the cancer and watch the stock soar, can't prosper dragging a dead weight anchor
Cut ties and wave goodbye to the failure, take out the pinch hitter cause that personality wasn't any better
A life changer for the better, now willing and wanting to keep score as a reminder of how bad it was before
Never again let the dark passenger take the wheel and steer, unless it's to steer clear
Forget looking backward, remove the rearview mirror and note the side mirror as truth, the atrocities are far closer than they appear
Tossin' small bits of anarchy out the driver side window, flipping the bird and quoting the Raven, "nevermore."
But I forgot why for

©2022
Matthew Sokolov Mar 2019
Do you wanna catch a macro?
Then observe them after that?

But no one does…
And make them all just go extinct…

They used to be just buggies…
But now they’re not…
They are a bigger deal!

Do you wanna catch a macro?
And make a google sheets?

It’ll become a viral tweet,
And end up dying by a week!!!

Then somebody named Michel Clapp liked it all…
He used them to torcher us all!

Now we’re watching the weeks go by,
Really Really Slowly…

“GO AWAY MACROS!!!”

— The End —