Do you ever Google?
I heard they call you "USERS";
I mean, do you care?
Our lives are now viral,
a flush of the toilet,
a death-summoning spiral.
Funnels of sheer torment,
Kirsten Stewarts pretty hair,
...it's like noone's even really there.
All locked in a block of info,
only CIA's aware.
Some weird files to share, locked up in a cloud.
Do these clouds rain on men?
Do they make them run?
Summon a sea of umbrellas beneath?
It's a sea of despair,
and was meant to be fun, worthy of a stare, here and there.
Now all gone.
But to have lives abolished in shame...
Is it a game? A Facebook event?
Do we just pretend?
No way to explain,
Not even a gain.
Here, internet. My contribution. Play your part. It's a data war.
I had always imagined your heart to be tiny,
Small like a hummingbird's.
Not because you were incapable of love,
But because you had the capacity for so much of it.
It fluttered at the briefest of glances
And jumped at the slightest of touches.
So fast did your heart beat that I had often mistaken you for dead
When I would wrap my hands around your throat.
You ran and you called and you pleaded
But no one could hear your little heart.
Even as it stuttered frantically
Against your rib cage, brittle as paper.
No one wants to love a quiet heart.
And so I took it and strung it on a chain of gold
So it could sit silently atop my own heart.
This is my very first posted poem. Please be kind.
Permission to use with credit
not like that.
But unbutton the words and unravel threads of turmoil.
Zip open my tongue and pull out my chords.
Reach your hand down my pipe, impale me.
Once you draw out your fingers, look what you’ve caused.
Strip me down,
of thunders in my brain.
Pin me to every corner of your soul
and don’t release until I am swarming.
Feel me gush out,
from release of my soul into yours.
Then break through until I am rotting raw.
One night, January
There are many things in this world
Many things that have been chose
Many things came to sight
All things rose
Someone exploiting their position of power is viewed as insecure and ignorant, for thinking that's how you lead a successful team.
People don't respect a useless leader.
Good leaders are respected and followed out of trust and respect. If you force people to follow you, most of them will not perform to their best abilities.
That's just my opinion.
They say blood is thicker than water
And Friendships never last
Yet I see flaws in their words
Cracks in their statements
As I gaze upon mine.
Is it possible for a mother to not cherish her son?
Is it possible for siblings to exploit and milk one another
Of their riches and simultaneously not care for their hearts?
Is it possible for children who grew up together to cast away
Their eyes when their brother is bleeding broken on the floor?
Behind their embracive hugs and smothering kisses
To us, their brothers dearest
They spy in our eyes and our fathers smiles
Such riches that will carry them to their swollen graves
Alas however friends though not related turn out to be
The second family you are granted by choice
Your staunchest supporters; your gentle confidants
Will be the friends that stick by you no matter what
Isn't it surreal that friends would drop everything to come to your aid?
Isn't it surreal that friends will degrade themselves to console you?
Isn't it surreal for a best friend to know you fully and understand you
Completely more than family and then accept you with your flaws?*
Family is stuck with you; no choice given-tough luck!
Yet friends choose YOU; your Knights in shining armour
Spilling out my frustration with words and rhythm
A scarce smile
A heart forbidden to love
A soul in great famine
Parched and dry
No fertile ground
No seeds to plant
But what does a ***** man want?
Oh I know!
A woman with two ***** of fat on her chest
Hips as wide as the ocean
Lips that only aim to please
And hands that could put a mans pain at ease.
If only these ***** men could take a trip in to our minds.
They'd be running for their lives.
Then the thought of using us as mistresses of sexually explicit ceremonies won't ever cross their minds.
Something I wrote half asleep
I promise myself
if I keep pushing hard enough.
You are an angel of liberation
How could you ever love **** so hateful?
It must be a lie, it must be fake
But I can make it true if I break you
Heavenly creature, let this creature come to you
Smother you and shovel all his wretched love in you
The way a golden goddess glows, mortals always follow
And only through destruction could she love a fiend so hollow
At your weakest, I strike
A predator in love
I convince myself you'll feel the same
If I damage you enough
I will teach you to love me
So that you can teach me why
What a Demon's meaning is
In an Angel's Eyes
A metaphorical self portrait of the obsessive, destructive, vile lunatic I am.
I remember that day,
That day you walked with me.
I remember it felt like peace and harmony.
It was refreshing in all of its simplicity.
My friends, my family, they all neglected
What I had to say, the questions children ask every day.
It did not matter what kind of attention you gave.
Even if it was negative, it was a drug that I craved.
You may not have understood, but you knew it, didn't you?
You knew that I truly, desperately needed you.
Exploitation was your art.
I wish I had seen it; I wish I was smart.
— The End —