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Sad Boy Feb 10
Your friend wanted to beat my friend with a bat
What do you think about that?
Your friend wanted to hit my friend with a bat! ***** that’s ghetto, **** that!
What do you think about that?
What do you
What do you think about that?
Guys leave me a comment saying how you feel about that and make sure you follow me thanks love ya
Ella Alvarez Jun 2018
Hey, Siri. Take a note.

Take a note for every time I make a new document to write a paper for class, only for you to power down in 2 paragraphs, because I've observed your patterns and my studies show that I can't depend on you. You crest and trough in intervals so irregular that if someone were to trace your path, from 79 percent, to 58, to 31 and 79 all over again, they'd be able to outline the Sierra Madre.

Take a note for every time you black out like the lights in a house of a horror movie, as dread like waiting for a spirit beyond the door overcomes me, because you know what -- forget the jumpscare, your sudden death already caught me unawares.

Take a note for every time my heart stops over a powerbank left at home, because not even halfway through my Grab trip, you're full, half full, all gone.

Take a note for every time you register a full green bar one minute, only to drop to 15% in two, because I'll have you know, I'm through.

Take note - I'm disappointed in you.

You make my face light up one second, only to dim into a faint red glow the next.

You've proven yourself unreliable; how can I call you my friend?

You're my heart's ultimate puppeteer, second to none,

You get me charged up only to drain me of the color in my face like the green in the corner, full, half empty, all gone.
****, I could toss you aside, falling to my knees,

Watch your screen crack, shatter, cave in

As its glass shards fly and pierce my skin

Ripping my chest to shreds as my heart takes a piece, but that can't be,

because you tore it apart when you powered down on me!

You're the reason I think the glass is half empty, and I… am empty.

I stare into the void of my dead phone screen -- black. Low battery.

I see wrinkles creasing through my forehead, the bags beneath my eyes,

I see dilated orbs drained of any vigor, any life.

I see my reflection on this black mirror, devoid of any expression whatsoever.

No curves lifting the sides of my lips, no pink flushing both my cheeks, just me, soulless.

I'm empty. It's funny. Through you, I see a girl

who crests and troughs at intervals so irregular,

Who's traced the outline of the Sierra Madre on herself,

Who cracks quicker than glass once she's fallen to her lowest

Who realizes that maybe she's been too ******* you, that maybe she should take a look at herself before she opens her mouth,

before she cracks, shatters, caves in,

glass shards flying, spreading thin.

I stare down at your screen's shards across the floor,

I realize how I can't put you back together, not anymore.

I'm very sorry. I have no words.

I guess you can say… I'm full, half empty, all gone.
inspired by the time my phone's battery enjoyed crapping out whenever it felt like.

this one goes out to the inconsistent friends who fail to keep their promises.
luis Nov 2017
10:00 A.M.
Battery: 100%

12:00 P.M.
Battery: 80%

2:00 P.M.
Battery: 67%

4:00 P.M.
Battery: 45%

6:00 P.M.
Battery: 30%

8:00 P.M.
Battery: 10%

10:00 P.M.
Battery: 0%

10:03 P.M.
Notification: You have one unread message:
from Andrea

"i love you ♥"

10:03 P.M.
Battery: 100%
for all the boys and girls who still yearn for love in our digital age
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.
Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.

What could a little kid do
That merited a hard fist?
Go ahead, take your time
Write us out a long list.
Did it cry because hungry,
Lonely in it’s own crib?
Did it need frequent changing,
Spit up on it’s tiny bib?

Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.

Was there a rash hurting
Or maybe a sour belly.
Did you feed it liver pate
When it wanted cherry jelly?
Did it say no to your orders
When treated like a slave?
What was the crime you felt
Should send them to the grave?

Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.

Something went very wrong with you
That you feel right to hit children;
To starve and cut and burn them
With a kind of joyous abandon.
Is part of it that you get to do
Whatever outrage you want
As long as you keep it hidden,
As long as you don’t flaunt?

Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.
Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.
nmo Sep 2017
i'm a remote control
with batteries running low.
i still work
as long as you press
my keys hard.
Delta Swingline Sep 2017
Sept 24th, 2017

In the midnight hours, my neighbour is hosting a party. And I... was in my bedroom watching "The Walking Dead" on Netflix.

In the room next to mine, I hear shouting in the streets and out my window I see the flashing of lights.

2 cop cars on my block.

The night is not young, but look at all these young people in it.

I analyze the voices outside my window, as I watch 3 young boys gather in my driveway.

Wearing dark clothing, CHECK.
Group movement, CHECK.
Overuse of the word "****", CHECK.

And I am praying for them to leave my driveway and they do.

And I migrate to the next room, slightly open the window and listen for more of these people. It's too dark outside for me to see much but the colour of their hair, and the backpacks or purses the brought with them.

They are all gathering at one house, the cops are further down the street, so that all moved.

I used to hang out with the kid who lives at this house. My how things have changed.


Go back to your show. And I did.

Later into the night, I hear through my headphones the shouting of a girl and I stop.

She and her what I assumed was her boyfriend just turned the corner and I slowly open my window.

I begin to analyze the situation.

Fighting teenage couple, Check
Probably intoxicated Check

She starts talking about some other guy.
He starts accusing her of cheating.
She gets in his face.
He gets in her face.

She says "I wouldn't do that because I ******* love you!" "And you're gonna make me walk home in the dark?!"

She gets in his face, he gets in her face....


She's on the ground.

He had forcefully shoved her into the pavement and she just...

Sits there.

In disbelief.

He says, "Yeah? HOW BOUT THAT!"

I don't know why it took so long to act, but I did.

Bolting into my kitchen, with my father up playing backgammon I tell him I just watched a guy shoe his supposed girlfriend in the road and he doesn't miss a beat.

He is out there in the middle of the night and he gets to that boy and I just stand in my living room, watching.

The windows on the first floor were closed so I couldn't hear a thing. But I could only pray that this boy did not carry a blade, or a gun, or the wrong words to my father's throat.

I ran up to my bedroom, grabbed my old cap gun and heard the boy say, "Hey man I don't hit my ******* woman!"

And I went downstair thinking to myself I don't know if my dad is sure to return to this house alive.

I just watched a girl suffer battery, I did not need to see my father die today.

And nobody can tell cap guns are fake when you're buzzed at 2 in the morning so yeah, I was scared.

But wait....

I see my father shake the boy's hand, give him a bro hug...

And send him off.

And when he came back into the house I hugged him and I wasn't exactly keen on letting go.

He told me that he had sent the boy in the opposite direction of his girlfriend.

It turns out she had already walked down the block by the time he had gotten outside.

It is 2:25 AM

After a talk about what happened, I went back to watching "The Walking Dead on Netflix".

And I can only hope that girl was not also walking dead.

My father is a good man.
Even after all that.

He still went back to play more backgammon.
My old man.
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