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Address a letter to noone ever
And send it on it's way
Into the gloom of another well packed bag
To be carried out and then whisked away

Let your focus not fall on the other
Let the falsehood, the penmanship
And all of the subtle friendlessness
Be mailed into the distant future
Far far away

Just address a letter to no one ever
And alone forever you'll ever stay
Just here laughing at myself. Me and my redundant ways. Lolz
the ball jingles
the cat runs
she plays
then she stops

glares up at me with that look
that says

you expect me to
all the way over there?!
just to get that stupid jingling ball?!

you humans are dumb

i'm gonna go lick myself
and take a nap

...idiot humans...
From where to draw
From which new well?
The night forever never tells

With no ear there
To hear the silence
But to speak another, break the spell

No mind to see what's in the night
Unless the dark is spoken till
The dawn it breaks another dream

With morning come a settled well

Deep to draw
Deep to dwell
A person's thoughts at night... A person's thoughts at night.
Chloe 6d
Hello my friend,
You have been gone for too long.
A hug that was once so warm and comforting has left me hollow and cold.
You have latched yourself back onto me.
Your grip is so strong.
I do not want you here.
So, please, please be gone.
I cannot hold onto you the way I once did.
You are so toxic to me.
It's getting hard to breathe.
I will not let you control my life,
not like you did before.
You do not own me.
Get out of my head.
This temple I have built.
I am stronger now.
I will not be filled with guilt.
You are a small part of my life,
you are not my world.
I refuse to let myself drown
in the darkness that you are.
I will come back on top  
and you can watch from afar.
One day I will be strong enough to not fall back into your arms.
I've hit another depressive episode, it's at it's peak but I am still fighting. Every single day I am getting better at pushing through my depression. I know you can too. Stay strong, everyone.
Yenson 6d

Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....

Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof

Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country

But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list,  highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to “fuck off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a “fucking disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the shit”
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .


Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa

But why, do call off the dogs. No that fucker has a big Knob, he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a bloody good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's fucking GREEDY, how much can a
fucking man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.


Congratula­tions People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless fucking people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you bloody have to work!
Chuka Umunna says Labour has become an institutionally racist organisation as evident from those MPs and members forced out of Labour under Jeremy Corbyn, and he urged the leader to “call off the dogs”.
James Khan Sep 11
enter the Dagon, the submerged Atlantean sepulchre:
Victoria bus station terminus,

Baroque architecture pissed upon by postmodernist plageurism,
formica fascias, garish greens,
a blind man's Guernica of shuddering abstraction,

coiled on the concourse, springs under tension supporting society sit,
biding, biting fingernails, ecclecticly sexting,

expressing opinions,
curdled milk from a misanthropic mammalian Al Jolson tit:
'Hey, Mammary!'

garrulous minstrel machinations motivate,
minds purged by 'arbeit macht (freaky) frei-day' gather like stormclouds,

suspended like disbelief, a cringeworthy copy of Georgian antiquity: a cock-makers clock,
heifer-shit horology horseshoe hangs,
chimes the hour and two hundred heads crane like Daniel - san,

bay (four), bay (six), bay (twelve B), baying
like greyhounds crammed into numbered pens
preparing to race for the hare,

torpedo tubes open and transport slides in,
wheezing like emphysema, diesel diatribe choking the air,
doors open (but not to admit) -

out vomits a blue-black engine part, animated by condescending disdain for humanity, dragging chains of bondage behind an ass full of haemmoroids-
wrathful grapes to solve Steinbeck's mouse problem.
The dangerously glamorous life of Chateau Marmont, where everybody is racing at an incredible speed. Velvet nights fraught with promise and mystery under large canyon moons. Skinny dipping in the heated saltwater pool, bodies dripping wet, in the privacy of palm trees, old Hollywood charm in swaying leaves fanned across the indigo sky, as we dangled over the city. Parties in the hidden bungalows, punctuated by pinot grigio and mescal mules, in and out of bedrooms and beds and clothes. Cocaine on hands, car keys forgotten, I tore your silk shirt as you threw it off the bed.
dream Aug 27
My eyes met yours,
And yours, mine.
For that split second,
Stagnant, was time.
I looked away first,
I then walked away,
But I felt your gaze on me,
And mine did not stray.
BJ Donovan Aug 25
Closing Time Opera

  When the bar lights blink off and on
  and last call was announced half hour ago
  we calculate the odds as drunken poker
  players. The bar is full of sirens calling.
  These beauties must've snuck in recently
  cause I never saw them earlier. We take
  our measure and like dancers we choose
  partners and meet near the door and waltz
  away together into the night. We find our
  way to beds holding on for dear life
  as desperate lovers often do. We sleep.

  We wake in morning light aghast. One  
  of us has to do the walk of shame.
  We'll both perform this Opera again.
  Maybe tonight we can go to their place.
Seanathon Aug 14
The wild sigh
How it wavers and whips
Through the freshly cut sky
No man to see
Or to follow it
As it flees
And it fly's
Like a harvest scythe
Beneath the gentle breeze
It cracks
And whips
Stiring the sleeping mouth beneath
With it's shadowy eyes
How the fisherman
Doth crave the catch
So also does escape
The fly
Whip whip. Roll roll.
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