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Long live obsessed with kept secrets
I’ll find them in men of all kinds
Daisies wash away
One by one I call out the ones who
Double dealed, fake, and flaked.
I’m just looking for absolution
Mother Earth once my friend
At the twelfth strike
You trash my world
Speck of love
Yet your eyes double cross
My love has shown me first hand infidelity
Tell me about falseness
As you eat your words
Runaway, look away in hard times
There must be more?
Teach me, better yet model me, then cheat me
I’m wondering, who are you?
You share my DNA but I don’t know you
You think of me as cold
That’s only half the path
Feel the distance
Know it’s your result of mistrust
Those tears say and say
The body holds the source

I know your long lost kept secret
Only a child used so carelessly
All the years of loneliness and void
Blame **** them and forgive them
Please daisies castaway the deception
Clarity swimming in remission
Long before I drown in the many retributions.
will19008 Aug 1
Assertiveness: standing up
for your own rights;
Don't infringe upon or ignore
anyone else's rights, though

It is not aggressiveness

Start with an "I" statement;
It should be descriptive, not
evaluative or condemnatory
More notes from EDE 352, Self/Group Processes, Spring 1980; apparently it was at this point in time when "aggression" became "aggressiveness"...
When the skin
                             sheds
When the resent
                               comes
When the darkness
                                   arrives...

All three,
All of them,
Everything shall come forth

I shall metamorph
into something
very unlike me.

Hear
it in the way I speak.
Feel
it in the way I look.
Taste
it in the way I stare.
Touch
it in the way I shake your hand!

LOOK AT IT
                       IN THE
                                      WAY
                   ­                             I
                                  ­                 EMINATE
                                                         ­             THE

AURA.
Recently rather assertive lately out of resent.
Too much stress.
But I'll not regress or get aggression.
I am on my own progress.
I am owner of mine possession.
Chris Apr 25
Larry walked to the store,
To buy a pack of smokes,
He's had enough, he want's no more,
He's sick of everything; so he walked.

He entered through a stain'd glass door,
asked for his brand and waited a while.
He saw reflections on the floor,
He saw his **** crooked smile.

He paid and was ready to head home,
but suddenly, there was a sound.
The glass broke as a brick was thrown,
and blood splattered all around.

Larry got up, his head was red,
He dragged himself out of the store,
Laughing loudly as he bled,
He lit a smoke and laughed some more.

He saw the guy who threw the brick,
Was it him,... well nevermind,
He yelled : ' Oi stop there you *****!'
And started rushing from behind.

They ran a good mile and a half,
before the guy was too weak to run,
Larry smoked and let out a laugh,
And said to his victim:'now you're done!'

Now, Larry angry as he was,
didn't go straight for the ****.
He wanted to have some fun,
And he knew then that he will.

'Kneel' he screamed at the guy,
as he drew close step by step,
'Kneel or I swear you'll die!'
He shouted out this final threat.

The guy afraid beyond his mind,
kneeled and looked him in the eye,
The kick that followed made him blind,
And he only let out a sigh.

Again the blood shed on the floor,
As Larry struck the final stroke.
A man's life was here no more.
And Larry lit another smoke.
Pointless Catharsis
Tonight's the night
We fight or die
And you can bet
It will be violent
But the aggression
That we have to bring
Is the only chance we have
To make a change.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
I stalk success with greed
I think i'm high on ****.
An apparent aggression.
No room for depression.

No time to rest.
To success, i,m a pest..
i follow her everywhere..
I'm not a victim of fear.

Success is so proud;
a fact without a doubt.
still i pursue with pride.
my emotions, i cannot hide.

strength apparently spent.
still, i'll never relent.
i will chase your vagour..
adrenaline absolutely pours.

i'm a man with purpose;
a victim of an overdose.
i'm drowned in optimism..
i slay every subjective criticism.
We fall sometimes because the best version of us is yet to be discovered
giving up might not be the best option
what get you going?
Maybe you are too good to fail....
danna22081 Mar 1
It might be said:

My thoughts relentlessly glide,
Ever so freely,
With apathetic, liberal pride,
Which I could never ideally
Express in my common,
Communicative nature.

I pondered upon my inability to expressively-express,
To inevitably manifest
My tunes within the populous world.
As chirping birds whistle within the gentle wind
Of a pocketed, clustered nestling,
Guiding their unravelling tunes
To their loved ones.

I pondered upon my proficiency,
My renown, relative intricacy
To speak through the ink of a hole within a pen.
The miniature loop of tragedies,
Romantically- led fantasies,
Before I simply had time to count to ten.

The pen of life,
One which glides
Throughout all walks of life
I’ve simply travelled.
Extends my thoughts
Which could never bring themselves
To walk… unravel.
To mend the journeys which met only the eye.

Journeys like years,
Lessons as tears
Which silently withered within the softened sockets of a warm, swollen eye…
Consumed by the joys of silent expression,
Regurgitating stories
Better told than their primary processions,
Of loopy, treacherous tragedies,
Romantic, fantastic fantasies,
I have finally realised.

The journey of a lifetime
Is merely dependent upon my
Expression.
I am a chirping bird,
Guiding my tunes to my loved ones,
No longer nestling amongst the hysterical herd.
For I know,
I am finally walking,
And my pen silently glides within the wind
Far behind me.
I love the subtle chirping of birds.
danna22081 Feb 25
It might be said:

I momentarily, dutifully ponder
Upon the sensation of pure melancholy,
As the rain pours deep into the vast, wide Earth,
Shattering all it contains in crammed, picturesque wonder.

Rain drops,
As powerful; commanding as bullets.
Apathetically shooting the dreams
I have thought to their fullest.

For I, young, able, and ambitious,
Have been cracked, fractured,
Pounded, with much ammunition
Proudly supplied, and released within rain
Drops.

You see, it is to no surprise that I
Am merely unable to adapt amongst my surroundings.
It is much easier, and efficient to pick
The individual with least mistakes; the least edges to their rounding.

But I must learn to learn,
To love,
To live.
And I know I do not have much to give
To anybody apart, and other than myself…
To supply my personality with accumulating wealth;
Love, care, dignified-dignity;
To be most ambitious, despite my wounds.
You will get there. One day.
danna22081 Feb 17
It might be said:

I love the hate
Of haste,
Of viscous cruelty,
Of bitter-sweet taste.

I have lived on,
And cannot seem to recover
The judicious need to bother,
To despise,
Yet to interact,
With the person merely responsible for their horrendous act...

My devastation, depression, detention,
From the life I once considered my own, developing legion,
Of friends who hated,
Of enemies who loved...
As the retrieval of a memory you couldn’t remember with cohesion.
They’re all going. Every last one of them.
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