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Nicole 4d
It is not that I don't want you
I think as you undress me and
Kiss my wrists.
It's that my soul is being chipped away
And I'd rather not die
A little in these satin sheets
Again.
Heart break.
Massive slits to breathe
After we brake off this date n.
I need *******
Patience. Everlasting love
And conceptual culmination.
Into unfathomable creation.

I need time and space from your ******* face.
And every day that goes by
Notice. **** it I
I've become. A soldier. Of lifes battle cry.
You ******* trapped me so ******* bad. That i
became a picto graph  a flash away from being held for ransom.
In your scrap book. Kinda factory line
Instead I'm seeing jealous glances.
From you and my bestfriend up on your camera slides.
So **** if I.
Evoke a bitter feeling.
Can't stand it right
Sorry for the lack of healing.
But see the me beneath.
The demons.
And the reasons
We both cheated.
Is were both fractured living  damaged lives
Need to
Find a sea of urgent trust.
And retrieve. What trust we must ensure. So maybe we can survive
A choral reef of deep sea meaning
Unexplored. Unless your letting random guys come and land inside...
Oh fuvk I'm getting jealous.
I know its cancerous.
And you deserve to get so mad when I....
******* dance with devils rhymes
**** the chance of metal lids
Now existing in these images
I did drugs.
We both did some ****
We made some kids.....
We got it on. Now were stuck as dad and mom. In the abyss...
With out a clue a ****** hope in hell. And not a ******* *** to ****...
So excuse me
If my mood is rotten.
Think I've gotten more maladaptive.
Habits. In the 5 years we've been rocking this.
Than in some 20 ******* years.
Of smoking ***.
Popping pills. And kamikaze.
Flipping quads. Until
I'm ******* knocked unconscious *****
Cherry pie. Sweet sweet sweet. Cherry pie. And jealousy. Don't forget jealousy
Jo Swan Jan 9
Animosity allergens,
dark as the Dracula’s dungeon,
insidiously infects the heart.
Vivacity begins to part.

In the realm of my subconscious,
I've confronted my madness.
There’s a monster in me that should die-
my morale withered and dry.

My spirit polluted with hate-
toxic as organophosphates.
The psyche is a perpetrator
who lusts for the power of ******.  

Drowning in the depths of darkness
of my wild imagination,
I’m shocked by this revelation!

The epiphany of my evil-
influenced by the vile devil,
my ego- sinful and gruesome.
Dear Lord, what have I become?
Avery Glows Jun 2018
Why o why, must you hate so endearingly?
Must you find reasons to hate, do you not find that futile?
Why is that that we must hate, when our time to love is finite.
Why mustn't we love, even when in hate
knowing, it is love amidst the loathing.
April 2018
Ron Gavalik Jun 2017
I loved you
every single day
especially those nights
you ******
other men
You’re better than me
but you kept coming
back for more
PittsburghWriter.net
Rachel Doty Feb 2017
Hate. All I see is hate.
Pure, unadulterated hate.
It's everywhere now.
In the ceiling, under the rickety floorboards,
Sleeping through the cracks of a once impenetrable foundation.
There are three sides to every story, but no one wants to see the third side, the truth.  I'm right, no I'm right, well you're a demon. You're not smart enough, not pretty ebough, too pretty, the wrong ethnicity, to give a valid argument. You're not valid. Only I, the holiest of beings, can tell you how to think, what to say, and what to never say. I-
SHUT UP!!!
...
God, silence is golden.

Then there's the rest of us. The children, huddled in a dark corner where their angry parents hurl glass plates and scream. We want everything to be well. Perhaps "well again" isn't the right phrase. Home was never perfect, and it never will be. But if we could be a happy family, even through the dark times, if we could hear what one another is saying, no. If we could LISTEN to what one another is saying, that would be enough.

There are those who are done fighting, the old man in his wicker chair, waiting his whole life to be noticed. When he finally gets his medal, his children throw it into the garbage disposal. What is there left to say when no one will listen?

There are those of us on the front lines, the virtual vigilantes.
So passionate, so intense, so disconnected.

There are the Orwellian sheep. Saying what they've been told by whomever chooses to educate them. Their minds so innocent, angry, closing every day. They see not the masses of wolves spinning lies with the help of their wool.  

The house is crumbling. Those who scream too loud are breaking the glass windows. The soft spoken are struggling to clean the splintery, split floorboards. Of course, they are all too busy to notice the house is leaning far off to one side. It starts to teeter on the side of a cliff. Creak. Creak. Creak.
World is full of vultures and hounds
Meanest go on groundless grounds
Vicious cross a place out of bounds
Human faces have snake like sounds

Women follow Satan to his ***** den
Vicious circles include when all men
******* intentions accompany then
Their fates are already written by pen

I can not forget that ***** and *****
Which proved to be like a real witch
Virtue is solace vice ,a ditch after ditch
Let me take her on to switch to enrich

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
World is full of vultures and hounds
Meanest go on groundless grounds
Vicious cross a place out of bounds
Human faces have snake like sounds

Women follow Satan to his ***** den
Vicious circles include when all men
******* intentions accompany then
Their fates are already written by pen

I can not forget that ***** and *****
Which proved to be like a real witch
Virtue is solace vice ,a ditch after ditch
Let me take her on to switch to enrich

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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